The Haven

"It was a bright cold day in April, and the clocks were striking thirteen."

As the words echoed around our living room, followed by a brief statement from a government representative and the national anthem, the signal became static, and we were left in silence. "Remain calm." The air had a soft bite of freshness to it. A strong scent of newly blooming spring flowers carried with that freshness through the opened windows. "Stay vigilant." I had long warned that something big was on the horizon. I had felt the inevitability in the air over the last couple of years, which led me to act. I didn't know what form it would take, just that something would happen. Something seismic. Hilary, my wife, often questioned my concerns and thought I could be putting too much stock in conspiracy theories and crackpot commentators.

I knew, though, that I needed to protect us.

**

So, I transformed the basement of our large three-bedroom detached home into a fully contained safety zone. It took a lot of time, effort and money. A lot of money. Fortunately, I still had some sway in the local community and friends in high and low places, so I did what I had to. Took odd jobs here and there. Jobs other people would not have even dreamed of doing. But my appreciation for the eye of the storm of war or something worse we found ourselves in, as I repeatedly told Hilary and our young neighbours, Mark and Diane, led me to do whatever was required so that we were ready when the call went out.

Like Moses, I faced derision from Mark, Diane, and even Hilary, as well as many of our neighbours who would hold onto the false hopes and buttery smooth words of our politicians and analysts who said we were on the dawn of a peaceful time. I was sceptical, knew my work was essential, and couldn't get sidetracked. I shot down their suggestions that I was just being paranoid.

I understood Diane’s reservations, as she had been a member of a strange religious cult that controlled its people through fear and false promises. She had confided in me once.

I told them my work was necessary and asked for their trust. I took no chances and sourced only the best quality earth, concrete and lead to create a robust shelter that would keep all gamma-ray radiation to a safe minimum.

Meticulous in my approach to everything, I ensured we had enough food and sources of nutrients in the form of supplements and water to last us a long time. A rationing system was devised to ensure we made it last. Fortunately, the space was only designed for myself, my wife, Diane and Mark. There were spaces for small compact beds. This would mean both couples could be accommodated easily. I had joked with Hilary that we would have a near-palace if anything happened to Diane or Mark. She never saw the funny side of those kinds of comments. Gallows humour helped me get through the days full of intense foreboding, I argued.

Diane and Mark were grateful to be included. Mark was not a practical guy. So, he lucked out living next door to me. Diane was a peach. He was a little wary of me around Diane because she looked up to me. I'd made a name for myself as Ricky the Handyman Shaw. Sometimes, Mark would go out of his way to try and take care of the odd jobs, with disastrous results. Diane and I had spent many an afternoon laughing about the mistakes I had to correct. It was fun to tease Mark, and though Diane would protest my comments, she still laughed. She enjoyed having me round, she told me once, because I gave her a sense of stability that Mark, bless him, couldn’t.

I told her I would never do anything to make Mark feel less of a man, even if he was less.

Diane, though a peach, was not much of a reader. Mark much preferred football.

Hilary regularly questioned my motives and intentions, but I dismissed her concerns with a kiss and embrace and told her we would face trying times, but we'd get through it.

**

The night announcement was made; Diane and Mark had been round for dinner. As Diane let out tiny sobs for the people left behind, I gripped her hand and told her it was all going to be all right. She pulled away. The poor thing was worried. Mark chimed in with similar words of encouragement but less conviction as he pulled her closer to him. Before we made the final plans to head downstairs and lock ourselves away, we all said a few words to mark the occasion. Diane and Mark thanked me again for my generosity. I said it was the least I could do, and there was no one I'd rather ride out the end of normality with other than those two. Once the initial sadness had passed, Diane would be a great little light-bringer for the shelter and seemed excited. Though I had kitted it out with enough lighting for the most spectacular Christmas display, it was still a renovated basement-cum-prison. Mark was a little like Hilary in that he seemed suspicious of the threat and his wife's bond with me.

Diane was younger than Hilary. Something that had been a cause of disagreement. Hilary was often snappy over my friendship with our young neighbours. She liked them but felt I was too wrapped up in their lives. I just told her she was being dramatic and that we can't exactly leave them above the surface to die if things go as quickly south as I expected. Mark was hardly the most confident man, a follower rather than a leader.

That was why, when I led them down to the basement and locked the door, I laid down some ground rules with Mark. I was in charge. He shrugged his shoulders and sighed. I winked at Diane, who blushed a little, clearly enamoured and glad to be here. Gripping Mark was a nice touch that helped alleviate his weak disposition. Hilary still questioned whether we were too hasty, but I had no time for her reservations now. We had to get into the bunker immediately before whatever happened next happened.

**

Hilary’s eyes darted between the curtained-off beds, her hands twisting in her lap. She hadn’t spoken since I locked the door. I told myself she was adjusting, but the look when I talked to her was the same she'd given me the night I finished the basement—part fear, part something else I couldn’t quite place. Palace may have been a stretch, but they should all be grateful we have somewhere warm, ventilated, and, most importantly, safe and secure. Mark and Diane disappeared behind the flimsy curtains that divided our space. I could hear them moving—too close, always too close. When Hilary suggested we could’ve done things differently, I snapped. Disrespectful, ungrateful. Who had done all the hard work?

**

I regularly checked the structural integrity of the supporting walls and the main door out of the bunker. I didn't doubt my handiwork but had to ensure it was secure while I reassured the others they were safe.

Despite many clocks being strategically placed around the bunker, it became increasingly difficult for the others to track how long we had been under. I was sure it was now day three, but Hilary would argue more time had passed. I dismissed her as having a slight cabin fever and suggested she take some of the anti-anxiety meds I had gathered for our haven.

**

Mark had been whispering to Diane. He didn’t think there was enough food. Diane, such a peach, put him straight and asked what he had done to contribute to our safety. He went silent, then asked if she believed there was something to fear. Diane suggested he go to sleep to stop those paranoid delusions.

**

Hilary remained silent since our argument, but I caught her whispering with Diane, low voices barely audible behind the curtain. She didn’t think I could hear, but I heard everything. Hilary was planting seeds, trying to turn them against me. But Diane—Diane wouldn’t listen. She knew what was best for all of us. A small smile came across my face as Hilary walked by me, clearly concerned. It's okay, though, as it would not be much longer that she'd have to fear anything. I said under my breath. She asked what I said, but I told her I was singing.

**

Tensions rose over the next few days, though I had prepared for that. Things were going according to my plan. Hilary was giving in to her delusions of taking power away from me. She tried to forge a bond with Mark. I often found her talking to him in darkened corners, only to quieten as I came into earshot. That was fine.

Some clever words in Diane's ears and subtle suggestions helped weaponize her against Hilary. Diane was more possessive about Mark when Hilary was around and would make little veiled comments at Hilary. Comments that Hilary found hurtful, but I suggested Diane was trying to lighten the mood.

**

Mark was more of a considerable pain in the arse than I reckoned he would be, as he constantly would try to do things around the bunker. Still, I used this as an opportunity to exert my authority. When he decided we should have a larger ration of biscuits to keep our blood sugar, I grabbed the packets he had helped himself to and warned him to remember who was in charge.

Diane encouraged him to listen to me while Hilary argued that a few extra biscuits were no big deal. I asked her who made all the calculations and who saved them all from certain death as a civil war had undoubtedly erupted above ground. She stayed quiet momentarily and gulped nervously before whispering, "You, darling."

**

Mark continued to make snide remarks with Hilary, remarks that Diane, my secret little weapon, would shoot down. He questioned why there was only one announcement and its cryptic nature. I suggested that, if anything, that was more reason to be alarmed and not to take it lightly.

**

It would all have been fine if Mark had not found the tape... that recording of 1984 by George Orwell and realised something was off. He wouldn't have had to fall down the stairs from the door to the bunker, and he wouldn't have had to die. Diane was shocked, and Hilary was mortified.

I told the women to get to their beds and let me deal with it. Told them Mark must have had a manic episode - he had confided in me that was a potential. I even showed medical records that showed he had severe issues. Diane blamed herself, and Hilary blamed me. I spent much time behind the partition, comforting Diane and telling her it was not her fault but mine. I was responsible for their wellbeing... I was accountable for their well-being. I told her it was unfortunate Hilary had poisoned Mark's already heightened paranoia.

Diane wanted someone to take the reins and tell her what needed to happen. I told her we needed to dispose of the body in a humane way that made practical use of all... that flesh.

**

Hilary had grown wary of me, choosing to sleep out of our bed. I didn’t worry too much, as I removed the partition some nights and would chat with Diane, mainly about the good old days. She shared her reservations about Mark and how she felt terrible for effectively giving up on him mentally long before we were in our new home.

Although it didn’t bother me, I was concerned about Hilary and her drawing away. I knew I was losing her allegiance, fast. She sniped here and there at everything. She tried regularly to sow seeds of doubt in Diane’s ear. Diane was impressionable due to her past; I used that knowledge to keep Hilary in check. I reminded Diane that she needed to avoid those persuading her to ignore her better judgment. She agreed that she would only listen to me.

**

Later that night, I heard Hilary creeping around the storage units. I knew what she was looking for. I watched her in a quiet and subtle panic search through the miscellaneous storage units, where we kept all the non-food items.

“Looking for this, dear?” I asked her as I held the tape up. “I thought those words seemed too poetic to be a real broadcast… I… Can't believe this... It was your voice... You manipulated it somehow... We trusted you. What are you not telling us?” she shouted. Laughing, I told her that the threat was always genuine. Eventually, humanity would do as it always does and descend into war. My precautions may have been a little premature, but I was not the crazy one here. “Is that why you killed Mark?” she gasped and tried to grab me.

The problem is that the rations had done an excellent job of weakening even Hilary's firm resolve. She had always been a strong woman, but fewer calories, protein, and nutrients had left her less of a threat.

As Diane appeared behind me. Hilary asked again, “Is that why you killed Mark?” Her righteous look of defiance dropped to one of horror at Diane’s response. “He killed him because he had to. Don’t you understand, Hilary? Ricky has done all this to save us. Mark was a problem; Mark would have brought danger to our haven. Are you bringing danger to our haven?”

Hilary backed away from me as Diane stepped behind her and restrained her. "We don't want to hurt you, darling," I said, as my lips curled into a smile. "But we need to." continued Diane as she plunged a knife into Hilary's back. "We can't jeopardise our survival," she said with a coolness I hadn't seen before. The emotions she showed when we first heard the recording had been replaced with a dissociated blankness.

I told Diane to clean herself up and then dragged Hilary's lifeless body into the same corner where we had stored Mark's corpse. I told Diane it would be okay and we would get through it. She had to trust me. We needed to dispose of the bodies for hygiene reasons. I would handle the carving and freezing, then use the flesh for protein.

As I reached for my tool bag, Diane, like the peach she was, went to the washroom to clean off the blood.

*

Thanks for reading!

Author's Notes: So, here's the thing. I love unreliable narrators and even got a shout-out on the challenge page. So, expect some ideas (I have two already doing my head in because of their intricacy). So, back to this thing. I had this idea for Liam Storm's excellent 1984 Unofficial Challenge. I wanted to do it for the Unreliable Challenge, and then it steamrolled and grew. So, it's not eligible for Liam's challenge because of the word count, but as his challenge inspired the entry, I still want to give the man credit.

Here are some others.