Harrington 3

Badlands

"Get down," Steve whispers, pulling me to the side along with the others as a small car passes us.

"You know what I say," I mutter, loud enough so everyone hears, "If the Russians find us? Soviet."

I snicker at my own joke as Robin shakes her head and the other three roll their eyes, obviously not happy with the timing of my humour.

"Okay, clear. Clear, come on, let's go," my brother whispers from where he peeks out into the open, where a hoard of Russians just passed in one of their little transport cars. We've finally made it to the end of the tunnel, and I have to say I enjoyed the safety of the journey much more than the blatant danger of the destination.

Peeking out from behind Steve, I can see just how technology ridden everything is. It's strangely futuristic, creeping behind this large steel box and squinting in the florescent lights, our main concern being caught by evil commies. Practically everything is made of metal, giving the illusion that we're in some sort of space ship, though it's quite the opposite.

"Okay, that was close," Robin mutters as we all follow my brother into a more open spot, though not so open as to put us at risk of being seen.

"Too close," Dustin adds.

"Relax." My brother puts a hand out at us, accidentally hitting me in the face and not even bothering to apologize, "All right? Relax. Nobody saw . . ."

He trails off, and soon I know why as we round a corner and come to a faltering stop.

Dozens of Russians mill about, practically all of them armed with guns or clipboards as they converse freely. If I thought it looked like a spaceship before, I'm starting to second guess my memory, because as far as I'm concerned we've travelled through time. Blinking lights and buttons are everywhere, voices coming over the intercom and the same small delivery cars passing by. There's a second floor visible from where we stand, and even more guards up in that region. Everyone is either dressed in an army looking uniform, a lab coat, or a hazmat suit.

I stand in awe for a moment before Steve tugs me to the side suddenly, catching me off balance and sending me colliding with the wall. I grunt, ready to swear at him when he clamps a hand over my mouth.

"Jesus!" He whispers, obviously referring to the abundance of communists as I give him an unimpressed look and tug his hand away.

"Red Dawn," Dustin mutters intensely.

"I saw it," Erica suddenly proclaims, and we all look to her, "First floor, northwest."

"Saw what?"

"I think the more important question is how on earth do you know which way is north?" I whisper loudly, "I mean, I'm not even sure which way we came from—"

Steve clamps his hand over my mouth again, cutting me off abruptly and nodding at Erica to continue.

"The comms room," she clarifies as I lick Steve's hand and cackle when he recoils.

"You saw the comms room?" Steve asks in disbelief, wiping his hand on his pants and glaring at me as he does so.

"Correct," Erica presses on, obviously done with my brother's lack of ability to process the simple idea of her immaculate vision.

"Are you sure?" Dustin asks, and Erica turns to him this time.

"Positive." She says, as if annoyed that he could be second guessing her statement, "The door was open for a second, and I saw a bunch of lights and machines and shit in there."