11 Chapter 10: The Mystery Man

At 6:00, an alarm sounded with Max's voice.

"Rise and shine. Come one down to the dining room for your rations for breakfast." 

Chris woke up and threw his blanket off of him. He saw the black-haired girl lying next to him. 

"I think I am having deja vu." Chris thought to himself. He remembered Saturday morning waking up to a similar scene, only that time it was a manikin. This time it was an actual girl. Chris put his hand on Heather's shoulder and shook her lightly.

"Wake up, sleepyhead, we have to go to work today," Chris said in a soothing voice. 

"Do I have to?" Heather sighed.

"Do you want us to live?"

"Maybe."

"Get up!" yelled Chris, shaking her violently now.

"OK, OK, I'm awake. I'll get up," Heather exclaimed.

The two of them got dressed and left for breakfast. On the way out the door, they ran into Francis.

"Holy crap. To think, I would have had to pay you to sleep with him now you're doing it voluntarily," said Francis, laughing. "Do you know how LONG I've been trying to get you two together."

"To be honest, I was expecting a punch to the face," replied Chris.

"And why would I do that?" asked Francis.

"Because you get jealous easily."

"WILL YOU TO HURRY UP I'M STARVING!" screamed Heather.

"If you keep yelling at me like that, I'm filing for divorce," joked Chris.

Heather did not find this amusing. She stood up tall and slapped Chris straight across the face.

"There it is, although from the wrong person for the wrong reason."

"WHAT!" exclaimed Heather.

"Nothing. Lets go eat some disgusting survival food."

The three walked into the dinning area. Maxwell and Carmella greeted them and gave them boxes that contained food. Chris stayed by to talk to Max.

"I'm glad to see you made it down the stairs alright," remarked Chris.

"Yeah. I won't be doing that again for some time," agreed Max.

"What is that boy talking about, dear?" Carmella asked curiously.

"It's nothing to get worried about. Hey Chris. How come you don't have your sword today?"

Chris looked to his back and tried to grab the handle of his sword. Nothing. He turned around and ran back to his room. He dug under the bed and grabbed his own sheath which contained the broadsword and flung it over his shoulder, fastening the belt in the front. And just as quick as he ran to his room, he ran back.

Now Max was by himself. Chris walked back up to him.

"Now, I've never seen you with that sword before."

"I think I left the other sword up in the suit room."

"Well, that's not very responsible now is it. Go up with Jackson and go get it."

Chris sighed. He didn't really want to go anywhere with Jackson. 

Chris sat down next to Francis and Heather, who were finishing their meals. 

"What to you so long slowpoke," joked Francis.

"Taking care of my responsibilities as a guard," Chris responded.

"Well, seeing that you didn't come back to your room with the new sword and now you have a different one. I think you either lost it, or you left it upstairs," mentioned Heather, "That's not very responsible now is it. Some guard you are."

"Whatever." 

When Francis and Heather finished eating, they left to begin their new jobs. Heather went to the gardening room and Francis went to the storage room. Max tasked Heather with growing and maintaining a food garden with Carmella. In the gardening room were thirty large twenty square foot raised beds. Along with that there were seeds of various fruits and vegetables. The room had a built in irrigation system along the ceiling that would water the plants twice a day. Heather met up with Carmella to begin their work.

"You know dear, today will be our hardest day of work until the harvest. But at least for the harvest it will be all hands on deck," said Carmella in a sweet voice.

There were three hoes in the closet. Both Carmella and Heather both took one and began working at different ends of the room. They pushed the soil away and made two rows in each bed. Then, they would fill those rows with seeds and cover the holes back up.

Max tasked Francis with taking inventory. He entered a large storage room full of boxes and crates. There were about 200 crates containing boxes of the survival food. Francis spent the day counting them and came to a total of 3,780 boxes of food. There was a significantly larger quantity of water crates. This was because water was used for more than just drinking. The bunker also had a water reclamation center that would store water in case of an emergency. 

Unfortunately, Chris was stuck in the thirty-minute walk with Jackson. He was uncomfortable, but he could feel Jackson's uneasiness as well. Chris did kind of felt bad for him. He just lost his fiance and his world, and to top it all off, he witnessed him and Heather kissing right after his fiance died.

"Hey, if you don't mind me asking. What was your fiance's name?" asked Chris, trying to start a conversation.

"Marissa. But what does it matter to you," Jackson replied sharply.

"Don't you think we should give her a proper funeral and burial."

"I guess that would be nice. She'd want to be the center of attention one last time," said Jackson with a sole tear running down his face. "Now let me ask you something. You and that girl, are you close?"

"I guess. I mean, we're excellent friends and all.'

"I'd say you two are a bit better than just friends. Friends don't kiss each other like that."

"Hey, I wasn't the one who started it."

"That doesn't matter. Do you love her?"

"Yeah, I guess."

"Well, all I can tell you is to make sure you let her know how you really feel. Listen, I know she asked you to be in a fake relationship because of me. Let me reassure you, I want nothing to do with that girl. Also make sure to hold her close and never let her go."

"Understood," responded Chris.

The two new friends finally made it to the top floor. Jackson quickly threw on his suit and began opening the door. Chris walked to the suit room and found his sword lying on the ground near the suit he wore last night. He grabbed it, flung it over his other sword and walked out.

"Oooof"

Chris looked over his shoulder to see Jackson being thrown backwards by a shadowy figure. The figure didn't stop; it ran straight for the stairs. Chris ran over to Jackson to help him up.

"Are you ok?" Chris questioned.

"Don't worry about me. Go catch that Jackass."