Bunker System Novels & Stories

It was the only place that we were going to be safe. I got everyone inside and I closed the door that was made of reinforced steel and I heard the lock click over and the keypad next to the door lit up. I went to the middle of the room and I turned a switch on for the ventilation and I showed the warriors that there was a storage room full of food in the back. It was pretty crowded with all the warriors in there. This bunker was only designed to fit the Alpha, Luna, Beta, Beta’s mate, Gamma and Gamma’s mate comfortably.

That’s what we called it. The Stone. It was not a safehouse, nor it was a clubhouse or warehouse. It was a bunker. A place to vanish a man so thoroughly even God would forget he ever existed. My great-grandfather had laid the first foundation when he was just a bootlegger with enemies and ambition. It had been upgraded since with steel, reinforced corridors, soundproof walls, blast-proof doors, motion-triggered hallways, a self-sufficient power grid, no WiFi and no cell reception.

The betrayal in my blood was more agonizing than the burns on my hand. "Why tell me this now?" I managed to ask. My fingers trembled around the titanium needle in my sleeve. "Because the bunker we’re entering was designed by my father to survive a nuclear winter," Damian said. "But it was modified by me to survive a Syndicate harvest. Once those doors seal, we are off the grid. The Argus system won't find us. The Director won't find us. Which means there is no one left to lie to." The elevator slowed. The industrial magnets whined as they engaged the sub-level brakes. A red light flickered on the ceiling, signaling the transition to auxiliary power.

The air that came up was cold and dry, which meant the seal had held. The bunker was not what Xander had imagined when his father said things built to last past the war. It was three rooms, not large, but fitted with the particular practicality of people who had known exactly what they were building for. Equipment crates, sealed. Shelving with medical supplies in vacuum containers that had kept the contents viable. A workbench with tools that had not aged because they'd been stored correctly. And in the back room, a terminal. Older than Sarah's equipment, built in a format that preceded the current Council tech generation, but running — a single amber light on the power display indicating st

"But the anti-tank guided missiles, the RPG-7s, and the C-4 reserves... those are kept in the subterranean Class-A bunkers beneath the tarmac. General Nyosi’s protocol dictates that those vaults require dual-biometric keys from senior officers to open. When the chain of command shattered, the officers fled. They couldn't get the doors open to load the heavy ordnance onto the trucks." "So the bunker is sealed," Eliana said, her brow furrowing. "A Class-A military vault is designed to withstand a direct bombing run. How do you propose we get inside?" "We don't bomb it," Baraka said, a cold, tactical certainty settling over him. "We crack it." Baraka turned to Daniel Maxwell, the baseline human

There was even a television mounted against one side of the wall, something Darren had not seen functioning properly in a very long time since the apocalypse began. Not far away stood a massive vault door built with thick steel strong enough to withstand an explosion. Surveillance monitors flickered nearby while a backup generator hummed softly in the distance, supplying electricity to the entire place. There were organized storage shelves filled with supplies, a visible defense control panel, and even what looked like a communication tower system connected to the bunker network. The entire place looked less like an ordinary shelter and more like a secure survival fortress. "How is this even

And now he had a reason, that was greater than revenge. “Silas,” I said and turned to the architect. “How far is this damned Bunker removed?” Silas typed hastily. “Almost seven thousand kilometers across the Eurasian Ödland, Jada. We need months on foot or with the scrap rovers of the consortium. Bye then Beta is just a crater.” “We don’t walk,” Kael grumbled. He turned to the main AI. ‘System. Status the hangars on level seven. Are the long-haul transporters intact?”

In the rearview mirror, the property shrinks, its lights going out one by one as my men erase the evidence of what happened here. "Where to, boss?" "The bunker." Viktor looks at me in the rearview mirror. He nods. He knows what that means. The bunker is the command center. That's where we plan wars. That's where we decide who lives and who dies. The car speeds through the deserted streets. Two in the morning. The city sleeps. It doesn't know. It doesn't know that in a few hours, it will wake up in hell. My phone rings. Unknown number.