Survivors And The Resistance

A jerk awakened John, as the craft was descending. He gazed over and saw his girlfriend laying upon his shoulder, and his friends were sitting across from him, sleeping. As the aircraft started shaking a little more from turbulence, it woke everybody else. John veered out of his window port to discover nothing but clouds at first. But as they approached closer to the ground, he began to see what appeared as if to be a mountain. Afterward he noticed a massive base opening with tanks and troops, wearing those special suits, wandering and arranged throughout the terrain. 

They heard a man announce over the radio from the cockpit, stating that they were cleared to land. The nostalgic feeling of moving down in an elevator, set in on John as they approached lower and lower to the ground. Once landed, the hatch door flew open, with a guard waiting there. He ordered out for them to all get out of the ship and accompany him. 

The soldier escorted them through the immense opening into the ridge; the opening moved down into a slope. As they went deeper into the mountain, they reached a massive metal door that was vast enough to fit several semi sized vehicles through at once. The guard stepped up to the gate, waved his palm in front of a camera, in what appeared to be him signaling. 

Cshhhhhhh clurclunt rrrrrrr. 

The ring of air being discharged in pressure. The enormous door swung open inward. The soldier addressed them inside with hand signals, where they were greeted by several other soldiers carrying rifles and turrets, patrolling the entrance and another man-sized door behind them. They were then directed to the smaller door by the same fighter. Where another guard stepped over to everybody, with an odd gun looking object in his grip. He placed the piece to everybody's arms, pressurized air blowing something into their arms. Sean showed tenderness in his face as they did thi to him. 

"What a baby," John said. 

The soldier signaled to have the other door open, using hand gestures. The door swayed open, and the guard instructed for them all to follow behind him. They passed in through after him and walked down a long well-lit corridor, hearing as the gate sealed behind them and latched shut.

As they were wandering down the passageway, sounds of amusement and children screaming grew heavier and louder. After, they started noticing other people inside large chambers on either side of them. Each room appeared to be crowded with bed bunks and suitcases scattered throughout. They would see kids racing around and parents scolding their children for hoarse playing. 

Soon they arrived at a gate that the guard paused in presence of, side stepped, and directed for them to enter. They reluctantly went in as the escort remained outside waiting and closed the door behind them. They all stood there in front of a very tall beautifully designed wooden desk, in the center of what appeared to be a small arena. In front of them was a massive Burgundy colored podium and several stone benches surrounding. They each looked up, viewing around to determine where they were. A males voice escalated and began to talk from somewhere straight in front of them. 

"This is a haven for all refugees and is the main headquarters in the northeastern part of the United States. Please state your names and ages. We need these for our records."

Sean went first, "I am Sean McPatric, and I'm twenty-seven years old." 

Bryan started up, "I'm Bryan Dunlop I'm also twenty-seven years old." 

Greag hesitated and then spoke, with a slight stammer. "I'm Greag A-A-Arnold, I'm t-twenty-eight years old." 

Sam stepped up cheerfully and began to exclaim, "Well whoever you are, I'm Sam Kelly and I'm the baby. I'm only twenty-four." 

The voice then declared, "Nice to meet you Sam. Ok, now last, who are you, and what is your age?"

Sam shrugged her shoulders in a delightful fashion, while squinting her face in joy. John looked up, finally noticing the frail old man that had been talking to them from the platform. 

He then firmly answered, "Well there you are, sir. I am John Stewart, I am twenty-seven currently, and these are my friends and family."

Everybody faced up, taking notice of the guy who had been speaking was above them at the podium. The fellow looked as though he were in his late eighties', with lifeless white thinning hair and a silvery mustache. His face was marked with creases and liver spots, and It was natural to perceive that he had some travel miles on him. The elderly instructor glanced at them like any other old cranky person does, with a slight scowl. He then began to speak with that hoarse and angry sounding demeanor. 

"Calm down. Err John, we are all only friends here. We will harm no one. Now please exit the door and follow the soldier to your rooms." 

The guard that accompanied them previously, entered back inside the room, and barked off orders for them to follow. As they all turned and followed, he led them back down the hallway to a large den off to the right. 

Inside were several other families. They had bunk beds positioned in rows, and next to each bed was a desk for clothing, and their belongings. In the area's rear were lockers for additional belongings. 

They all scanned around and chose available beds situated desirable next to each other. 

"You three can have these, me and Sam will share this lower bunk." John said while he glanced at his beautiful girlfriend with a questioning expression. His right finger was pointing to two twin sized bunk beds that were covered with green wool blankets. She smiled at him and shook her head up and down, her blonde hair that swayed in the stagnant air, brought a smile to John's face. John stared over at the bed, walked over to its surface and plopped upon it. Within seconds his eyes sunk under their weight from exhaustion.