Quentin looked at him. The medicine Price had brought was making him feel like himself again. “You’re sure?” Quentin asked.

“Yes,” Dillon said.

Price had recounted his horror story with the tank in Timberline, so no one had any illusions about what would happen if they were captured. Price had confirmed everything Bell had warned them about.

“We don’t know if the bunker might be affected,” Poole said. They’d all seen the instructions from Phelps about a “Doomsday Trigger.” It had been Howard who had read through Phelps’ handbook, found the section on the Doomsday Trigger, and read it aloud to them, twice. He was holding Phelps’s red binder with pages of instructions on the bunker’s various weapons systems available to the “survivors.”

“It clearly says that the Doomsday Trigger will not affect the bunker,” Howard said.

“Well, I hope to fuck he didn’t miscalculate,” Dillon said.

The “Doomsday Trigger” was marked on the control panel. It had been marked with blue painter’s tape and labeled with a black Sharpie-style marker, as many of the controls and switches had been. The label was clear. It was a simple black toggle switch.

“What if we’re trapped in here?” Marvin said. He seemed to be losing his nerve. “I don’t like it. Why don’t we just crawl out the tunnel? The four of us could cover one another from the Howlers.”

“We got to kill these assholes. Go ahead if you want. I’ll stay,” Dillon said. “You heard what they did in town.”

Poole looked at him. He hadn’t cared about anything since his wife and children had been taken from him. Fear, a pressure in his chest, was the very first human feeling he’d had since he’d climbed into the Cadillac three days before.

“I’m scared,” Poole said, sounding relieved.

“So am I,” Quentin said. He stood up and put his arms around his friend. It was the first words he’d heard Poole say that seemed like they were coming from the man he’d known. For some reason they both burst out laughing, as if Poole had told a joke. All four of the men started laughing uncontrollably, the thought of death funny for some reason.

“Boom!” Howard said and slapped his knee.

“Boom up the ass!” Dillon said, laughing. “Hey, look these assholes are finally getting out.”

The men all stopped laughing and looked at one of the several black-and-white monitors in front of them. They could see one of the tank’s hatches had been thrown open. A helmet popped up and then the rest of the soldier’s body came up into view as he hoisted himself up and onto the tank’s turret. Another soldier appeared behind the first, and another behind him.

“The crew chief will be the last out,” Dillon said. “He’s in command.” They watched a fourth man scamper out of the tank.

Quentin hit a switch marked SOUND 1 - CABIN PORCH. They could hear the men around the tank talking. They watched the four jump to the ground in front of the porch. One of the men took out a sidearm and walked up the stairs to the cabin’s front door. They had left the door open on purpose. They watched the man kick the door and it fly open. As they had the bunker shut off from the cabin with the steel plate they could no longer hear what went on upstairs.

Quentin reached over and hit the switch marked: CABIN SOUND. They heard the men walking around above them, and the sound of shell casings, scattered all over the floor of the cabin, rolling as they were kicked.

“Go down the hall, make sure it’s clear,” a voice said. They heard the sound of footsteps. Quentin glanced at the monitor. The last of the four soldiers walked into the cabin.

“They’re gone. They ran the fuck away. Motherfuckers. I saw the drone feed and they were here,” one of the soldiers said.

“Anything to eat in here? I’m hungry,” a new voice piped up.

“Here’s something for you boys. We ready?” Dillon asked, reaching for the Doomsday- Trigger.

Poole’s hand beat Dillon’s to the switch. The others watched his long elegant black fingers caress the toggle switch. The doctor looked at all of them in turn.

“In the name of Allah, God, Martin Luther King, and Christ our Lord. May death be upon you,” Poole said. He thumbed the switch.

At first nothing happened. It was the monitors that went dark first. Then they heard and felt the massive explosion above as the cabin above them was vaporized by the plastic explosives secreted in its walls.

When it was over, a minute or two later, they heard music come from the control room’s speaker: Hawaiian ukulele music. And a recording left by Chuck began to play. They could hear the man’s voice come on over the music.

Dear Quentin,

   I was in love with your wife ever since I laid eyes on her. It must be very bad for you to have used the Doomsday Switch, so it doesn’t matter if I tell you now. I wanted you to know. I wanted you to hear it from me—man to man. If you hit the Doomsday Switch, things must be pretty bad. But remember, you got a lot to live for. And I know you ... You are a survivor. Take care, buddy, and good luck and God bless. Remember: He who dares, wins.