Chapter Five: The Mountain Base

The drive to Mount San Antonio, the base took nearly three hours.

We left Los Angeles before sunrise, winding through mountain roads that grew narrower and steeper with each mile. Mr. Bennett sat in the passenger seat, a folder of ownership documents on his lap, while I drove in silence.

The city disappeared behind us, replaced by pine forests and rocky cliffs. The air grew thinner, cleaner. I rolled down the window and breathed deeply.

In my previous life, I had never made it this far. The roads had been blocked by then, choked with abandoned cars and desperate survivors.

"Mrs. Elliot," Mr. Bennett said, breaking the silence. "I've reviewed the documents thoroughly. Everything is in order. The transfer is complete."

"I know."

"Then why are we driving three hours to sign papers that could have been signed in your office?"

I glanced at him. "Because I need to see it." He nodded and said nothing more.

We turned onto an unmarked gravel road, climbing higher into the mountains. The trees thickened, blocking out the sun. A rusted iron gate appeared ahead, flanked by crumbling stone pillars.

I stopped the car as a man emerged from a small guardhouse, dressed in worn overalls. He was older, perhaps sixty, with gray stubble and sharp eyes.

"Mrs. Elliot? I'm Harold. I manage the property." He glanced at my car. "Didn't expect someone like you up here."

"I'm full of surprises. May we see the base?"

He nodded and opened the gate. The rusted hinges groaned like dying animals.

I followed him through, my eyes fixed on the iron bars as we passed. Rust coated every surface. The metal looked thin, brittle ready to crumble.

 I had watched creatures tear through steel doors with their bare hands. They had thrown cars aside like toys. They had ripped humans apart in seconds.

This gate wouldn't last five minutes.

We parked near the entrance to the base a massive concrete structure built directly into the mountainside. Harold led us inside, flicking on lights that buzzed weakly overhead.

"The main entrance," he said. "Reinforced concrete, six feet thick."

We walked through a narrow corridor that opened into a large central chamber. The ceiling arched high above us, supported by steel beams. Rooms branched off in every direction sleeping quarters, storage areas, a medical bay, a kitchen.

"This is remarkable," Mr. Bennett said.

"Built during the First World War," Harold explained. "The government constructed it as a bunker but the project was abandoned after the war ended. My grandfather bought it decades later."

I frowned. "Why would the government build something like this during World War One?" Harold hesitated.

"There are records," he said slowly. "Old ones. They mention something called the 'first apocalypse.' A sickness that spread across Europe. People changed into violent Monstrous." My blood ran cold.

"You're saying this was built to survive something like that?"

"That's what the records suggest. The bunker was designed to hold a hundred people for up to five years. Independent water supply. Ventilation systems. Food storage." I walked to the far wall and ran my hand along the concrete. It was cold, solid, ancient.

The first apocalypse.

I had always assumed the pandemic in my previous life was unprecedented but what if it wasn't? What if humanity had faced something similar before and the survivors had built places like this to hide?

"What happened to them?" I asked. "The people who used this bunker?"

Harold shrugged. "No one knows. The records end abruptly but the bunker survived, and that's what matters."

Harold showed us the water storage tanks, the ventilation shafts, the generator room. Everything was functional, if outdated.

Then we reached the outer perimeter.

A chain link fence surrounded the property, topped with rusted barbed wire. The gate we had driven through stood at the main entrance, its iron bars corroded and weak.

"I want the gates replaced. Solid steel, reinforced hinges, no gaps. I also want barbed wire around the outer fence and the inner perimeter electrified."

Harold blinked. "Electrified?" He stared at me for a long moment.

"You're expecting trouble."

"I'm expecting the worst." Mr. Bennett cleared his throat. "Mrs. Elliot, is this really necessary? The base is already secure."

"No, it isn't." I pointed at the rusted gate. "That wouldn't stop a determined group of people, let alone anything else."

"Harold, I'm sending a crew here tomorrow. They'll clean the interior, reinforce the ventilation, and upgrade the perimeter. I want the gates replaced within three days."

"That's... fast."

"Then hire more men. I'll pay double."

He nodded slowly. "You're serious about this."

"Dead serious." I walked to the edge of the property and looked out over the mountains. The sun was setting, painting the sky in shades of orange and red. Below us, Los Angeles glittered like a jewel, peaceful and unaware.

In eleven days, it would burn.

No.....Ten days now.

I turned back to Harold.

"The crew arrives tomorrow morning. Have the old gates removed by then."

"And the barbed wire?"

"Electrified. I want it operational within a week."

He scribbled notes on a small pad. "I'll make the calls tonight."

Mr. Bennett approached me. "Mrs. Elliot, may I speak with you privately?"

We walked a few paces away from Harold.

"What is it?"

"I've been your lawyer for years. I've never seen you like this."

"Like what?"

"Like a woman preparing for war."

I met his eyes. "Maybe I am." He studied me for a long moment. Then he nodded.

"Whatever you need, I'll make sure it gets done."

"Thank you, Mr. Bennett."

We returned to the car. Harold promised to have everything ready by morning. I handed him a check for the renovations and told him to contact me with any problems.

As we drove back down the mountain, I watched the city lights grow closer.

Ten days until the world changed forever.