The first time I saw the sky I was 18 years old. The same as everyone else.

     “One of those, are you?” Commander Travers glared down at me. I realised what I must look like, on the ground both arms clinging to a steel beam like an anchor. Like it was going to stop me from falling upwards into that grey-green sky. You don’t fall up though, do you? Yet, when all you’ve known is a low ceiling overhead, something about that endless sky makes your brain go a bit haywire. 

     “I need a moment, please,” I said. 

     “You gotta speak up darling. Remember?” He pointed to his mask to remind me of my own. Like I could forget the monstrosity.

     “I said, give me a minute!” 

     “You’re going to need more than that, I can tell already.” Travers sighed and left me there to get the supplies ready. I knew he was right. I was not a moment away from releasing my hold. I looked at my naked wrist. It would be a hard habit to break. The watch that normally sat there told me exactly where I needed to be and what I needed to be doing. They told me to leave it in the bunker, that there was no need for it out here. 

     I watched Travers going about, loading the truck with surprising ease. I thought about the confines of the small cab we would soon be in and felt relief. I loosened my grip slightly, then a bit more, and then dropped my arms. To my illogical surprise, I stayed planted on the ground. I kept my eyes down and pretended. It’s just a big room. You are still underground. I got to my feet and moved away from the hatch on the ground that led home. I must have looked like a child learning to walk. 

   “Hey, not too bad!” Travers must have spotted me. As I looked up at him, I could see all the open space around him. Suddenly the world flipped on its head and then went black. 

 

     When I woke, I was on a small cot in some kind of enclosure made of green canvas. The space was hardly bigger than the cot. It was perfect. My face was still weighed down by the mask. Still outside. I stayed quiet and enjoyed the space, but it wasn’t long until he returned for me. 

     Traver’s hardened face appeared through a slit in the fabric. I knew he was around 40, but he looked older. The only person I’ve ever met that saw the sun regularly and it showed around his eyes. “Ah, you are awake. Well, let’s get going.” 

     “Wait. What happened?” I asked, trying to buy time.

     “Fainted of course. Happens a lot. That’s why this tent is here. Now come on, I can hardly fit in this thing.”

     I grudgingly got up and followed him. Once I got out of the tent, I watched the back of his heels. I bent my wide-brimmed hat downwards at the sides to make blinders so I could only see the ground in front of me. I climbed into the cab. With the door shut, I felt safe again. I could even look out around me through the heavily tinted glass. This wasn’t so bad. Even once he started the drive. It was like playing a simulation. 

     A light on the dash went green. “You can take your mask off now,” Travers said, removing his own. “We’ll be driving a long time so get comfortable.”

     “Sorry about before.”

     He shrugged. “It’s better than crying. The crying I can’t stand.”

     “Does that happen a lot?”

     “God yes. Most of the girls, no offence, but a lot of the boys too.”

     I know why they cry. They hate to leave their family and friends. It’s a small group of us, so everyone is real tight. Literally, packed in down there. I never really found my place in the community somehow. “Ever had someone that just couldn’t do it?”

     “There is no not doing it. Even if I have to drag them kicking and screaming.”

     “But they can’t be very useful to you, can they?” 

     Another shrug. “All I really need is someone on the monitors while I do the actual work. Trust me, I’d do it all myself if I could.”

     “Do you… I mean… Why do you…”

     “I can’t understand why you’d all want to be down in the bunker forever. You know, back in the day, that would be a lot of people’s worst nightmares.”

     “What, are you claustrophobic or something?”

     “Hardly. It’s all I’d known until I was your age.”

     “You must have liked your mandatory service year then.”

     “Eh.”

     “Well, you took the job right after.” 

     “Somebody had to. The previous commander died out on mission.”

     “But it didn’t have to be you, did it? I know he died during your year, but it didn’t mean you had to do it. I guess you had the most recent experience but they couldn’t make you do more than your year. I mean, lucky you took the job. No one else would have volunteered. What would they have done?”

     “You sure ask a lot of questions.”

     “Well, what else is there to do?”

     “Enjoy the scenery,” he said with a chuckle motioning to the wasteland outside. 

 

One year later

 

     At first, I couldn’t wait to retreat to the windowless steel chamber in the truck for the night. Not anymore. I liked the work once I was allowed to do more than watching the monitors. And I liked being out there. Our last day was completed and we sat on either side of the bottom bunk. Travers had pulled out a bottle of rum to celebrate the end of my year. 

     “Are you sure it’s still good?” I asked. 

     “Never goes bad, this.” He passed me a metal cup. 

     I took a gulp and immediately gagged. 

     “Easy! Don’t waste none.”

     “It’s off! I told you. It’s hundreds of years old, of course it’s gone off!”

     He took a drink and smiled. “It’s supposed to taste like that.”

     “How could you possibly know what it’s supposed to taste like? You’ve only ever had centuries-old alcohol. No way did anyone drink something that tastes like this when times were good.”

     He laughed. “It’s for the effect, not the taste.”

     I took another sip and grimaced. “Maybe they just had it so good they had to subject themselves to something so bad.”

     We talked for hours about what we thought people were like back before the collapse. As a good student, I threw out facts while Travers threw out some outlandish theories. I enjoyed his take on things. The rum did have a nice effect, I’ll give him that. 

     After a lull in the conversation, I changed the tone of things. “I get it now. Why you like this.”

     “The rum?”

     “No! The work. It’s the freedom of it. I never realised how little there was in the bunker. I’m surprised no one else enjoys it.”

     “It’s all they know. An animal that’s been caged its whole life doesn’t know what to do when the door is opened. I adapted. So did you. Most don’t.”

     “Do you think I could stay on working with you?”

     “What? How?”

     “No more mandatory year. Just us doing the aboveground scavenging.”

     “They wouldn’t go for that. Trust me, I would prefer it. But they think it’s an important experience.”

     I sighed. He was right. Changes never happened in the bunker. “Would you ever want to retire?”

     “Not a chance.”

     I wasn’t even sure if it was what I really wanted, but now that I didn’t have the option the thought of returning to the bunker for the rest of my life felt suffocating. 

 

     “Acclimatise the cab while I do the last checks on the exterior,” Travers said the next morning as we prepared for the long journey back to the bunker. He always did a thorough check before a long drive as it was better to not have to stop and get out once the cab was filled with clean air. 

     “Can I drive back?” I asked hopefully. 

     “Ugh, I don’t know if I want to chance it. We’re almost out of supplies. Can’t risk you crashing.”

     “Come on, this thing is like a tank!”

     “Fine. But never tell anyone I let you drive. I don’t want the new ones getting ideas.” Even with his mask on I could tell he was smiling by the crinkles around his eyes. 

     I hopped in the cab and started it up. I watched from the side mirror as he checked all the tires. As he walked behind the back, I put the truck in gear and sped off. I looked in the mirror to see him standing there, watching me drive away. He wasn’t waving his arms, or running after me. He knew. He knew because he did exactly the same thing when he was my age.