The Silo

The outside world was unknown to her, but she could see a glimpse of it through the window in his room. She touched the sealed reinforced glass doors and peered through. The Silo technician was sitting in an office chair at the control panel by the window. His semi-skeletonized head was tilted back over the headrest. A black pistol laid at his feet.

The girl had never been this high up in the Silo before. She knew that, as a child, she had lived on the outside before the attack but had no memory of it. At it’s height, the Silo contained almost twenty-five thousand people. They all lived, worked, and played amongst the massive sixty three floor underground bunker. She was the last of them.

Six months prior, a variant of the prion that wiped out the majority of the human race made its way into the water supply of the Silo. When she was a child, she overheard one of the technicians say it was just a matter of time before it found a way inside. This frightened her at the time but when she told her father about what she had heard, he comforted her.

“We are safe here. These walls keep us safe.”

He grabbed her small hand and placed it against the cold concrete wall. The touch reactive paint changed the color of the wall from gray to blue, emanating slowly from her hand. He placed his hand on top of hers.

“Safe.”

She removed her hand from the glass door and looked around for a button or switch to open it. She found nothing. She placed her fingers in the small seam and attempted to pry open the door. Nothing. There has to be a way in, she thought.

She turned away from the sealed door and looked around the antechamber for something heavy. It was dark and the only light shone through the small window in the control room.

The ceiling of the Silo was an extremely large photo magnetic light source that emulated sunlight so well that crops on the bottom floor could be grown. When the light dimmed for the final time, the door to her forty first floor apartment unlocked and she was able to exit for the first time since the outbreak. Over two days, she worked her way up the Silo’s coiled walkway through security doors, past dormant sentry bots, and over hastily piled obstacles in almost complete darkness. During her ascent, she found no one else. She attempted to call out once but the sound dampeners were off and her screams bounced around the Silo like a terrified animal dying in the darkness. She tried looking over the concrete railing to the bottom of the Silo. She looked into the purest black she had ever seen. It was as if she was staring into the vacuity of eminent death. As if the low whistle of the cold air current beckoned her over the edge. She contemplated her fall. A few seconds and her plight would be over. No more clamoring like a rat in a flooded hole. Or perhaps she would fall forever into the dark void of infinity.

She dropped to her hands and knees and felt around for something to toss over the edge. After a minute or two her hand landed on a what felt like the sole of a boot. She followed the boot laces up and paused then recoiled. It was attached to person, laying lifeless in front of her. She scooted back to the railing and realized she was silently sobbing. Then she stopped. She remembered that technicians wore boots and many of them wore utility belts. They could have a flashlight, she thought.

She crawled back over to the body and felt her way up until she found the belt. She ran her hand along the belt and found nothing but empty pouches. She rolled the body over and found one more closed pouch. She slowly pulled the Velcro apart and felt inside.

“Thank God,” she whispered.

She pulled the flashlight out of the pouch and felt around for the button. She turned it on and illuminated the dead man’s face. He was around her age. His eyes were half open and milky grey and his mouth was partially agape and his lips were drawn back as if he were going to speak. She shone the light out ahead of her then out toward the void. The beam did not reach the other side of the Silo. She stood up and continued her ascent.

She found nothing in the antechamber wieldy enough to bash or pry the door open. She walked back to the doors and looked back toward the window. The light was dwindling outside. She followed the wall to the left of the door and came to a panel. The panel door was attached by four flathead screws. She looked around for something to unscrew the door. She touched the zipper to her jumpsuit and unzipped it to the level of the bottom two screws and inserted the bottom of the zipper handle. She worked the screws loose enough to unscrew them the rest of the way with her fingers and tried to pull the panel up. But the top screws were still in place and it wouldn’t budge. She unzipped the jumpsuit to her waist and tried to rip off the zipper handle but it remained firmly attached. Frustrated, she removed her shoes and took off the jumpsuit completely and removed the top two screws. The panel slid off and she shone the flashlight inside.

There were no labels but she found a latch and pulled it. She heard a click in the wall. Let’s hope that did it, she thought.

She put her jumpsuit and shoes back on and walked to the door. This time she was able to pry it open but only wide enough to squeeze through sideways. She was hit with the humid, foul odor of the dead technician as she entered the control room. She covered her nose with her sleeve and approached the control panel. The tech’s eyes, lips, and nose had been eaten away by some kind of small animal. He left a note on the control panel. She picked it up.

A LOT OF GOOD THIS PLACE DID US… 16 YEARS SEALED OFF DOWN HERE FOR WHAT? TO DIE LIKE THE REST? ALL IS QUIET NOW. EVERYONE DOWN THERE IS DEAD. I SHUT DOWN THE POWER. I WILL NOT LOSE MY MIND TO THIS DISEASE. SCREW THE SILO. I’M GOING OUT ON MY OWN TERMS.

-DAVID

She placed the note back on the control panel and looked back at the dead man.

“Damn you,” she whispered. “Damn you and the rest.”

She looked for any switch that could open up the Silo. She found a red switch labeled ‘Emergency Power Override’ and turned it to the up position. Nothing happened. She randomly flipped several more switches in a vain attempt to make something happen. The panel remained cold and dark.

The light from the window was getting dimmer by the minute. After flipping every switch and pushing every button she could touch, she decided to give up on restoring power to the Silo. She looked at the window. It was above the control panel near the ceiling and long but narrow. I could fit through that, she thought.

She stepped onto a chair then up to the control panel then pushed herself onto the screen cabinet. The glass was solid and permanently fixed into the frame. She looked around again for something to break the window with and saw nothing. She climbed back down. The technician’s gun still laid on the ground nearby. She picked it up and pulled back the slide a bit to make sure it was loaded. She then aimed at the window and fired. The shot was startlingly loud to her but the glass had fractured. She fired again and then once more. The glass was broken enough for her to knock it out. She removed the utility belt from the dead tech. It had a holster, two additional clips for the pistol, a multi-tool, and another flashlight. She quickly strapped it around her waist and put the gun in it’s holster. She grabbed the tech’s jacket from the other chair and climbed back on top of the cabinet. Wrapping the jacket around her arm for protection, she made a fist and knocked out the broken glass. She then laid the jacket on the sill and slid out of the window on her stomach.

Overgrown plants and grass covered the concrete pad that she slid onto. She stood up. The sun was setting low and the redness in the western sky struck her hard. She knew nothing of this place beyond small talk and kids’ dreams and legend. She walked several steps away from the window and turned back. The concrete of the Silo roof was hardly noticeable in the dense foliage. Now it was just a deep concrete tomb. A relic of her past. A relic of her humanity.