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my fingers trembled and I struggled to hold onto the ladder as I removed
the final barrier to the outside.
    This wasn’t right. I shouldn’t have been celebrating my
birthday like this. There would have been a big cake—Dad would have bought me
one from Costco—and all my friends would have been at my house, dancing,
playing games, and watching movies. Maybe Landon would have been there too, and
Toby would have stood in the kitchen doorway making kissy faces at me while
making a loser sign with his thumb and forefinger—the dork.
    There would have been balloons, streamers, and music. The
table would have been piled with presents too—probably a new iPod or concert
tickets to One Direction —but instead I stared at the square door over my
head, terrified of what waited for me outside.
    All of those things—the balloons, the presents, the
cake—seemed so dumb now.
    I wanted my friends, my dad, and even my stupid brother and
his idiotic ways. “Please let them be okay,” I prayed. “Let this be some
horrible mistake.”
    The last latch unlocked, I used all my strength to push the
heavy metal door all the way open.

 
     
    I lifted my hand to shield my eyes from the intense glare of
the sun. The darkness of the bunker plus living without natural light for so
long made my sight like a newborn’s emerging from the womb.
    Feeling vulnerable, I grabbed my knife from my pocket and
held it in front of me, waving it around in the air, though I doubt I would
have sliced anyone, even if they were stupid enough to walk into my flailing
knife. This was the perfect time for someone to shoot me, stab me, or even eat me
because I couldn’t see a damn thing!
    Callie screeched her high-pitched panicked meow, and since she
sat near my head, I couldn’t hear anything either. Blind and deaf, I had a
great urge to jump back inside the hole and forget the whole thing. Being brave
would have to wait for another day....
    But nothing grabbed me, no one shot me, and as Callie
settled down and my eyes got used to the mid-day sun, everything became a
little clearer.
    I didn’t know what to expect exactly, but the sheer silence
settling over me definitely wasn’t on the list. Except for the slight breeze rustling
the leaves overhead, profound quietness engulfed me, and nearly sent me to my
knees.
    Something wasn’t right, but I remained upright, trying to
figure it out. No cars, no sounds of vehicles rumbling in the distance. No
planes—which normally filled the sky since we lived only a handful of miles away
from the airport and a military base. Not even the sound of a bird broke the
extreme calm.
    I lowered the knife, but continued to hold it firmly in my
grip.
    The bunker door had taken quite a beating. Bullets left
large divots and pockmarks in the surface, and most of the paint had been either
blown off or scraped away. Someone had even attempted to dig around the door as
if trying to find a way to pry it open. Whoever it was had put a lot of effort
into trying to get inside before giving up—thank goodness.
    I dropped the door into place, but knew if I locked it,
there would be no way to get back inside if I needed to. Unlocked, others could
raid it, but locked would make it useless to everyone including myself. The
choice was an easy one.
    The snow that had covered the ground in a thick layer of
fluff only two months before had long since melted, and now tall grass, several
inches high, needed to be mowed. I had packed my duffle bag anticipating the
snow and cold, remembering everything the same way I’d last seen it, but flower
buds escaped their dirt beds and hinted at an early spring. Yellows and pinks
pushed upward—Mom’s flowers—tulips and crocuses she’d planted several years ago
right before she had started chemo. They kept returning year after year.
    Everything looked normal, except for the back of the house, which
crumbled in on itself, and the family car in the driveway covered in dust with
all of its windows