Bunker Story: Thanksgiving Special (Part 9)

You may be a bit confused if you haven't read the rest of the series, but here's the Thanksgiving Special specifically.

20 Years Later

The most common question Mark got was, “What do you think it’s like out there?”

Well, now he knew. He had been a High Elder for precisely three hours before he discovered the truth. The world above is safe. We’re trapped down here because the High Elders are too prideful to admit they were wrong.

Mark had quit immediately after learning about that, although Gail quietly told Mark that she was going to remain High Elder.

Every day since he found out, which was nearly seventeen years ago, he had hung out in the Crafts Room, even though he was bad at crafts.

And just like that, he accidentally snapped a stick he was using to build a miniature house.

“That’s the fifth snap in the last ten minutes,” reported a young girl working directly on the other side of the table. “Not to mention yesterday. And the day before that. Going back as far as who-knows-when.”

Mark grimaced. “Yeah, I’m not the best,” he admitted. “My strong suits are running, writing, and quitting jobs.”

“Quitting?” the girl inquired. “You must be Mark Swift.”

Mark’s eyebrows rose inquisitively. “How did you know?”

“Only one person has quit their job in the last five years,” the girl shrugged. “Mark Swift. I’m Gabby, by the way.”

“Nice to meet you,” Mark said with a smile. He turned his attention back to his miniature house and sighed. “Yeah, I’m not good at this crafting stuff.”

“How much practice have you had?”

“Well, nearly seventeen years, to be honest,” Mark laughed. “I guess I’m going to go. I don’t hang out here too long each day.”

“Have fun!” the girl told him, and went back to her craft.

The following day was the Thanksgiving Feast, and Mark eagerly awaited the food. He didn’t care for the stuffing, and he was disappointed that they had corn in their cornbread (which he had come to terms with, after constantly being pointed out that it was cornbread), but the mashed potatoes and turkey were amazing. His twin children, Jacob and Ashlynn, held expressions that reflected how Mark felt. He gave them a smile and glanced at their disproving mother.

“I don’t see why you guys are so impatient for dinner,” Helen mussed. “It’s only four-thirty.”

“Food is food,” Jacob shrugged.

“Besides, we’re teenagers, what do you expect?” added Ashlynn.

Mark grinned at Helen. “They’re right.”

Helen rolled her eyes. High Elder Gail got up on state. “Greetings, everyone! Thanks for gathering here-”

“Where’s the food?” someone shouted.

Gail began laughing at that comment, and Mark smirked at Helen. “Surprised it isn’t me this time?”

“You’ve started a movement,” Helen told him, a hint of a smile reaching her face.

Soon, they were all digging into their food. Ashlynn, who wasn’t a huge fan of meat, had heaps of cornbread and mashed potatoes stacked on her plate. Jacob had made sure to take plenty of turkey and stuffing.

Soon, Gail arrived and pulled up a chair. “Mind if I sit with you guys?” she asked, sitting down without waiting for what they all knew would be an inevitable “yes”. Mark and Helen stared at each other, waiting to see how long the twins would keep from talking this time.

“I learned how to swim, today!” Ashlynn blurted, after three minutes.

“And I learned how to cook spaghetti!” added Jacob immediately afterwards.

“Cool!” Gail told them with a grin.

“And Marysa showed me how to-” Ashlynn began, but got cut off as Mark stuffed a small forkfull of mashed potatoes into her mouth.

“Eat first, so you eat the food when it’s nice and warm,” Mark advised with a cocked grin.

Jacob stared into the distance with an awestruck expression. “Wisest words I’ve ever heard!” he exclaimed, and immediately dug into his food.

Mark mentally counted to ten, so he didn’t start disobeying himself so soon by talking before finishing his food. “So, how’s work been?” he asked Gail.

Ashlynn swallowed. “Eat first, Dad!” she complained.

Too short. I need to boost it to twenty seconds, or something.

“Work’s good,” Gail told Mark, despite Ashlynn’s protest. “Many complains, several people believe the radiation should be gone by now, and everyone wants out of the Bunker.”

Mark solemnly nodded. She knows the secret. She’s keeping us confined here.

“Ever thought about sending someone to investigate?” he asked her casually. He hoped she got the message that he still felt they should leave.

Gail froze, and slowly lowered her fork. “That is out of the question right now.” Her voice was icy.

“Why?” Mark pressed.

“Are they going to start fighting?” Jacob whispered to Helen, and Mark shook his head.

“No, sorry, this probably isn’t a dinner conversation, is it?” he sighed. He took another bite of turkey.

Gail was silent and unmoving for a few moments, before she said, “We already did send someone. He died.”