Free The Luminosity Series (Book 1): Luminosity by J.M. Bambenek Page B

mother’s reputation isn’t something the
people here have forgotten,” she said.
    “Who
are you?” But before she answered, I caught her piercing glimmer of dread
again. Her hair resembled the color of hazelnut, a caramel brown with golden
tones that shined within the flashlights of an approaching soldier.
    “Turn
around,” she snapped in a hush whisper.
    “This
row, into the stairwell!” the guard ordered as the front of our line shuffled
forward.
    After
descending five flights of stairs, we worked our way through a narrow corridor
that led to a steel door resembling a bank vault. The cement walls housed a
series of battery-powered lights, keeping the room visible to our unadjusted
eyes. Between them, several slots opened into bunk beds, and beside the bunks
were an array of lockers filled with food, water, and blankets. The sight of it
made me panic as I contemplated how long we might be stuck down here.
    Near
the entrance, a red light was blinking, signifying there was an emergency.
Above it was a green bulb, dark and unlit. Only then did it make sense to me.
This was an underground evacuation bunker, built by our very own military to
serve as a temporary distress room during emergencies.
    “Alright,
listen up! You will stay here until we receive the safety command to release
you. There’s been a security breach at the border, most likely triggered from
the storm, but we must obey protocol. Many of our town’s back-up generators
have failed, so as a necessary precaution, we will remain in lockdown until the
wind dies down and we can secure the perimeter. In the meantime, keep calm and
get comfortable. You might be here for a while,” a soldier yelled, standing in
the murky shadows of the doorway. A series of groans came from the hospital
staff. I attempted a head count, but amidst the shadows, it was impossible. And
of all the people around me, I didn’t recognize a soul.
    I
let out a heavy breath as I dropped my shoulders, squeezing my way through
crowds of rattled workers. Most of them appeared calmer now, but were still
shaken by the sudden turn of events. Outraged, I recalled the infants left
upstairs. The hospital’s lack of concern repulsed me. And not even the
slightest bit of resentment showed on the other nurse’s faces, which made it
even worse.
    After
making it to an open corner, I leaned my back up against the cool, dark wall. I
stared into the emptiness past my feet. But just as I closed my eyes to the
commotion, a shadow of a girl came rushing toward me. And before I could
recognize her, her quavering voice spoke my name.
    “Aubrey!
Is that you?”
    Before
me stood Janelle, once my best friend. Her familiar hazel eyes were hidden in the
dim light, but her wavy auburn hair cascaded against her porcelain skin,
exposing her identity. Before the collapse, Janelle wasn’t like most girls. She
was rebellious in her own way, often using her own quirkiness as an excuse to
challenge the status quo. But she never let her oppositions bring her down.
Now, I wasn’t sure how much would be left of her.
    “Janelle?”
Relief rushed onto my face before she even had to answer.And when I stood up from the wall, I reached out and
gave her a hug, holding back tears.
    “I
heard the rumors about you being back, but I didn’t believe them. I’ve been
trying to find you ever since, but I rarely get assigned night duty. How are
you?” She wiped a tear as she smiled. After the relief passed, it took a few moments
to finally accept it was actually her. After the announcement, I assumed I’d
never see her again. I assumed she’d try to escape.
    “I’m—I’m
okay, I guess. How about you?” But I was shaken by the concerned chatter
surrounding me.
    “I’m
fine, but it sure is nice to know you’re still alive. Rumor has it things got
pretty wild in other cities. I wasn’t sure if you were okay. What happened to
you? How’s your mom?” she asked.
    “Nothing.
And I don’t want to talk about her. Not