The Serum

He shuddered as the thundering crash exploded above him. The bunker he was currently occupying shook with its force, dirt and debris falling haphazardly from the ceiling. After a few moments all was silent again. It was almost surreal amid the usual clatter of destruction he had been used to. Looking around his eyes met those of many other men hiding out, each showing the same expression; fear.

He was their leader, he was responsible for those other eleven men in that fallout shelter. He had had more under his command but many had fallen while they were up there, fighting their war. They had retreated underground two days ago when it became apparent that unless they did so, none of his troop would be left. He felt the shame that came with admitting they had been defeated, and guilt for not doing it quick enough and getting those other men killed.

He pushed these thoughts aside, they were in the past and irrelevant now. There would be a time to grieve. His main concern was his future, and the future of the men who looked to him for leadership.

He considered the situation. Here they were, twelve men in this shelter, probably locked in with the force of the bombs falling from above and the dirt that now covered them. There was enough food to last another few days if they were careful but they had already run out of water. That's what worried him most. Dehydration could do unspeakable things to a man. He had seen it himself. For the first time since he began his career with the Armed Forces, he felt unsure of himself.

The men were silent, unsure. Scared. He had served with many of them before, trusted friends and colleagues. War torn faces knowing as well as him what they faced, knowing they were trapped. There was a few younger men, barely out of their teens and here serving their country, stuck in this hole. He wondered if any of them had came to any conclusions about their situation but doubted it. Naivety was a blessing.

It seemed like a long time they sat there in the stuffy room, all quiet lost in thoughts. The occasional sound could be heard from above them, a bomb exploding in the distance, earth being displaced and forming new hills and vallies. Thundering heavy feet. Just above their location. He felt a shiver travel down his spine, jolting him. John was scared. He had come to the realisation that had haunted him while they cowered in the dark; they were covered. The trap door to the bunker had been covered with earth and it was no longer visible and the feet tramping across the dirt would serve only to compact it, making it near impossible for that door to be opened again. Still, they could try. And once the men above them had passed within what he gauged to be a safe distance, they would try.

Until then the men passed the hours in small talk. John heard snippets of conversations had about the room, muttered and disheartened. He heard one of the young fellows, Joseph, talking to the other about a girl he had met back home in Leicester.
"She's great, a real doll. I'm gunna marry 'er when I gets 'ome."

"What'she look like?" William asked, his eyes wide in the dim room.

"A real looker. She wears 'er hair up mostly, 'as a lovely shape to 'er. She lets me 'old 'er hand when I take 'er to the movies." His eyes glinted with youthful exuberance.

"She sounds swell buddy." He grinned at Joseph.

John gazed at the two young men with a mix of pity and amazement. Either they were blissfully ignorant of the whole situation or were aware and thought they would get home anyway. He wished he had that sort of optimism. His had died a long time ago when his career with the Army began.

The older experienced men were quieter. John wondered if they were doing the same as him; praying, saying their goodbyes.
Several hours passed and the thundering of feet had passed off into the distance. Now was the time to act. He stood from his seat, immediately rousing interest from the men. The bunker was about seven foot tall allowing enough room for the men to stand comfortably. It was bigger than it looked with several side rooms which were used as private sleeping quarters. Candles were spaced around the walls to give a little light in a dark place and there were spares kept in one of the rooms. They would last for a long time, days and days. But the food wouldn't, and it was this thought that spurred John to action. He walked to the left corner of the room where the trap door would let them out. He stood in darkness for several seconds before one of his faithful men hurried over with a lit candle without being asked. John could see the acceptance in the man's eyes as he stood beside him. Nothing could be seen between the beams of wood as he gazed above him, there was only darkness, a sure sign that they had truly been caved in. Perhaps with the strength of a few of the strongest men it could be moved, perhaps the dirt wasn't too thick.

He called over a few, "Ernest, Ronald, Francis." His voice carried across the room, echoing against the rough stone walls. Each stood to attention and stood by his side momentarily, saluting him as one. "Give me a hand with this." He motioned to the door above him and stationed himself in the corner, allowing room so the other three men could get their hands against the rough boards. They stood there, hands pressed against the door above them, all ready and waiting for John's signal. Looking at each one of them he gave the nod and they heaved upwards. At first the door remained firm, rooted to the spot with the weight above it. But slowly it moved, jilting upwards little by little. John glanced at Ronald and saw his face was red, beads of sweat dripping down his nose and his stubbled cheeks as he strained all of his effort upwards. Shadows flicked across their faces from the candles behind as they pushed with all their might. The door kept giving, moving upwards. Soon the dirt that had covered the door began to cascade into the bunker, covering the men with dust. John choked as he swallowed a mouthful but never relinquished his grasp. After a few moments the door was free, the pressure was gone and day light flooded in. And with it, relief. The weight that had been crushing John was suddenly lifted as he was hit by a ray of sun. Perhaps those boys were right to be hopeful, he thought to himself. For a couple of minutes he stood with the other men, catching his breath. Then, with a nod of gratitude he mopped his brow with the back of his hand and began to pull himself up the ladders. He wanted to be run, to be free and out in the open, but caution stayed his senses and he was wary as he poked his head up from the ground. At first as his eyes adjusted to the light he could see nothing but a bright blue of grey sky and muddy brown earth. Then he could make out shapes, men standing not far from where he was. He was unsure whether he had been spotted yet but he saw the distinct navy colour of their uniform and knew it was the enemy. With a jolt he dropped himself back down the hole, falling into someone and slammed the door shut above him.

"What is it?" It was Francis who had caught him. He pushed John up and made sure he was stable before releasing his grip.
"They left a troop up there," John was panting. "I don't think they spotted me but they would have."

He heard one of the men curse, he recognised it as Frederick's voice.

"What now?" Francis asked,.

"Back to square one," John was honest with them. "Put on your thinking caps." One by one the men returned to their seats. It disheartened John to see them so miserable but he couldn’t think of anything that would help or what could get them out of their situation.

After around an hour of dull silence James piped up, "Can't we just run out there, railroad 'em, shoot 'em down?" He was animated, hanging on the edge of his seat. He was the only man on his team who was bald, and probably the only man who could get away with it. His head gleamed.

"There are too many of them." John sighed, shaking his head. He didn't want to tell them how many. He didn't want them to feel the way he felt at the moment.

"How much ammunition we got left?" Ernest asked.

"A couple of magazines, I think." John shrugged but immediately felt like he was letting his men down. "Let's check. Joseph," He shouted to the young lad.

"Yes Sir," The boy saluted him.

"I want you to stockpile all of the weapons, check the amount we have left. That includes grenades."
"Yes Sir." He answered dutifully.

"Boys," He commanded the attention of the men in the bunker. "Help the boy out, give him your weapons."

Without hesitation each began unloading his own a*senal of weapons and piling them for ease of access. William snatched a few fresh candles, lit them and brought them down to the floor to help out but kept them out of the way avoiding any unnecessary accidents.

That kept the youngest two busy. John pointed at another lad who looked like he was in his mid twenties, "Wilfred." He addressed him.

"Sir." Wilfred answered without standing. John let it slip. He often neglected the formalities that came with being a leader because his men were good, especially the older guys. He trusted them with his life, as they trusted him.
"I want you to check the other rooms for anything we may have missed, food or weapons. Give one of the lads a shout if you need help."

With a curt nod Wilfred stood, grabbed himself a candle and began his tour of the bunker. John watched as the candle gradually floated out of sight leaving a dim glow as he entered the first room.

The sudden movement and flurry of the search seemed to restore hope to his troop. He felt the mood in the bunker lift and it lifted him. He felt somewhat optimistic and began working his mind.

There had been a big troop up there, many more than the number of men down in the bunker. But his men were good. He'd worked with many of them and those he hadn't he had trained to his own standard after the joined. They were the best, they worked together and perhaps they could do it.
"Thomas." He called over his most trusted and longest known man. They had joined together back in ?? And always survived the battle around them. He began strolling away from the other guys to take Thomas into his confidence and soon he caught up.
"Sir?" Thomas asked, his voice quiet as he reached him knowing he was there for a purpose.

"Tom," John began to address him voice quiet. "I'm asking you because we've been through it, you and me. Up there there's at least quadruple our number of troops, maybe more. I gather they were left there because they know we're in here. They're waiting for us to emerge so they can slaughter us like lambs."

Thomas nodded thoughtfully, deep in thought. He was considering their options, weighing them up against his past experience, "John I don't know," He shook his head. John's heart sank. "I didn't realise there were so many up there. I don't think we have that much ammunition left, we could all die."

John nodded. He knew. "Do you have any ideas?" He asked the other man. "We're down to little food and no water, we won't survive in here much longer."

"I didn't realise it was that bad," Thomas admitted shaking his head as he spoke to his leader. He looked up, the glint in his eye bright in the dim light. He pushed his hair back and dropped his hand onto John's shoulder. "John, what about that stuff?" His voice was low, husky and shaking.

“The vaccine." John questioned as suddenly it all came back to him.

Before his mission started he had been called into the Chief's office. He'd only ever been in there once before, and that was for disobeying orders. He remembered feeling hot and sticky as he knocked on that door and was called in. The Chief was sat behind his mahogany desk, cigar in hand, customary John thought. He was his uniform, dark green and pressed. His pins lined up on the left breast. He had won those for valour and bravery when he fought in World War one. He was a legend among the ranks and everyone knew the name of Chief Ferry. Behind him to his right stood a tall weedy man in his forties. He wore a white lab coat. It was stained and John didn't want to ask what it was.

"John, this is Doctor Spiegal." The Chief spoke. John nodded in affirmation and waited.

"John," the doctor began. "We have developed a new serum, something to make our soldiers stronger." Spiegal's eyes sparkled and John thought he saw a hint of madness there. He wasn't sure how to react, or what this meant. "It increases stamina, speed and general strength."

"John," The Chief barked. John's attention shifted to his commander. "We want you to use this vaccine on your men."
"What? You can't expect me to-"

He was cut off mid sentence. "Do not speak out of line Colonel, you will speak when spoken to."

"Yes Sir." John was dutiful once more but on the inside he felt he rage seethe.

"This serum could be the uprising of our army, the end of the enemy, the rise of Britain!" Ferry's voice rose as excitement coursed through him; the thought of victory imminent to him.

"Sir." John's voice remained stable as his anger rose.

"Before this mission starts I want you to administer the injection to all members of your team. You are then to monitor it's effects closely with each individual, keeping a daily log which you will report back to me."
"But Sir-"

He was cut off once more. "Colonel! I would ask you not to interrupt again. This serum could be the end of all war against Britain. We cannot pass up this opportunity."

"So am I to understand that this serum has not yet been tested?" John questioned, struggling to retain his voice at a normal level.

"Yes." Ferry answered bluntly.

"Then you want my men to be the guinea pigs?"

"Not guinea pigs, pioneers." John then saw the same glint of madness within the Chief's eyes.

"And if I refuse?"

"If you refuse, Colonel, your life will not be worth living when you return from this war." Ferry's eyes burned into John with a fierce anger and sense of self importance. He would not back down.

"Very well." John said. He picked up the box that lay in front of Spiegal and walked from the room. He knew, even at that point that he did not want to use the vaccine. He didn't trust it. He had no idea what it would do to the men he administered it to.
Now as he stood in the bunker that could become his tomb, Thomas reminded him about the box that he had stored safely in his sleeping quarters. Without a second thought he rushed to retrieve it before Wilfred found it. He brought it back to where Thomas stood. Thomas glared at the box with wide eyes. He knew about the box, about the vaccine and Ferry's wishes. John had told him as soon as he left the Chief's office. Thomas had felt a mixture of pride in John trusting him enough to tell him and terror when he found out what it was. The terror came from the uncertainty of the substance they would be pumped with.
John placed the box on the floor and slid the lid off, let it drop onto the ground. Dust plumed from underneath it but was not seen. Both pairs of eyes were fixed on the contents of the box. There were over fifty needles in there, filled with something liquid that must have been the serum. John didn't want to but knew that if he dared to count he would find the exact number for the men in his team.

"What do you think?" Thomas' voice was barely a whisper. John knew he was scared.

"I still don't like it. I won't resort to it, don't want to. Not unless there's no other option. Let's see what the guys come up with first."

Thomas nodded with visible relief and slid the lid back onto the box. A last resort. He hoped they wouldn't have to use it.
The men regrouped and it became apparent that there wasn't much hope. Wilfred had found nothing extra in the smaller rooms, except a small jerry can of water. They couldn't be sure how long it had been there and whether it was drinkable. It would be at the last effort but not yet.

Joseph and William had counted up one grenade, four magazines between twelve of them and a few knives. They were great for close combat but they needed ammunition. John didn't realise how much hope he'd placed in finding a stockpile of weaponry or a feast that could stay them for weeks. He knew it was unrealistic, but there was always a hope. Now there was nothing.

John pulled Thomas aside, "Okay, so we have not very much ammunition, one jerry can of water between twelve of us that may not be fit for drinking, and not much food left. What do you think?" He wished more than anything he had a simple decision in front of him. But choosing to subject his troops to what could be a painful experience and all for nothing, was a difficult one to make.

"I hate to say it John, but you're the boss. You've gotta decide what to do here." Thomas patted him on the shoulder with a look of sorrow crossing his face.

John nodded. Thomas was right, he just didn't want the responsibility of hurting his troops.

"Men, gather round." He let his voice carry through the room. The men all moved, shuffled forward, came together as a group in the middle of the room. John strode forward towards them, his boots heavy on his feet, his uniform stifling in the dank heat. Each one of them looked at him expectantly, hoping for an instant cure.

"Men, I have a dilemma and I'm going to be honest with you. There are a lot of men up there waiting for us, they know we're here. We have a very small supply of ammo, and even less water and food. We have three choices. The first is to stay down here and probably die of dehydration." He glanced around the men as he said this. Many of them, particularly the older men seemed indifferent to this suggestion. "The second, would be to go out there, take down as many of those b*sterds as we can and go down in glory." As he glanced around this time many of the eyes he gazed into quivered, in fear. Joseph stared at the floor and refused to look at him.

"Which would you prefer?" He opened up the question to the men in the room. There came no answer. He watched as they looked at each other, confusion on their faces.

"If I have any say," Ronald piped up. "I want to go down in glory. I don't want to die down here, in hiding. I'm no coward." His voice and eyes were fierce.

John nodded. "Anyone else?"

"I don't want to die." A small voice spoke up. John thought he heard a sniffle. It was John. His head still hun towards the floor, ashamed.

"Me neither, Sir." William stood by his friend.

"Okay, all of those who do not want to die raise your hand." All eleven hands touched the rough ceiling.

"And all of those who would give something a chance if they may survive." A couple of hands dropped but most of them still remained.

"That's settled then. I've got something to explain. Everyone take a seat." The men did as they were ordered and John found himself stood in the centre of the room about to explain what was going to happen. The men all watched him, fear and trust in their eyes.

He hoped he wasn't letting them down.

“So we’re all in agreement that no matter what, we don’t want to die. I’m going to tell you something that will shock you. I was asked, at the briefing for this mission, to administer all of my men with this vaccine,” At this point John held up a needle, its point covered with a small protector. The men gazed at it without much emotion. “The vaccine, Spiegel claimed, would create a man capable of fighting longer and harder with less chance of death. He told me it was a wonder drug and Ferry told me I had to give it to all of you and monitor its reactions.”

“Monitor its reactions?” Frederick piped up.

“So they don’t know what it does?” Ronald added.

“They claim they know,” John held his hands up, bringing hush amongst his men. “But it hasn’t been tested. I said I wasn’t prepared to put anyone in danger and so up until now I haven’t deemed it necessary to tell anyone. However, present circumstances have dictated change and the vaccine is something we should consider.”

“You mean for us to take the vaccine?” Ronald spoke up, his voice high pitched.

“I mean for us to survive,” John looked Ronald in the eyes. “We have a choice here men,” He addressed his whole troop. “We can take our chances either down here or up there, the way I see it we’re out numbered and we’re sure to die.”

“Or, we can take the vaccine become stronger succeed?” Ronald again.

“In a word, yes.”

With that, the whole of the bunker rose in a roar of flurried and excited voices. Amidst the confusion John heard disbelief and fear, but also a lot of excited men. The thought of the vaccine was terrifying but also produced some hope. Some hope that they may rise from their situation and return home to their loved ones. This was the common theme between Joseph and William, two of the youngest. Joseph keen to return home to wed.

“Men!” John shouted over the din after several minutes. The group quietened and all eyes trained on their leader once more. “We need to decide, as a troop, what we’re going to do.”

Joseph immediately shouted out his opinion, he would take the vaccine and take out the men staking them out. William nodding in consent. John nodded, taking in their view then turned to look at the older men. His focus particularly on those he had trusted with his life many times.

“Ronald? Francis? What do you think?”

Both were quiet, almost silent. “I say, we’re in a pickle anyway. What’s the worst that could happen?” Ronald’s question was rhetorical.

“Me too. I ain’t got nothing to lose. I’ll give it a go.” Francis spoke to John.

“We all will,” Thomas spoke for everyone in the room. “You’ve led us this far and we’ve trusted you. We don’t doubt you.”
John felt touched by the words of his closest friend and college. He acknowledged him with a stiff nod.

“If anyone has objections to the serum, speak now,” John ordered. He waited for a few moments to give them all a chance, but nobody spoke up. “Okay, let’s do this.”

He pulled the box to himself and slid off the lid once more. The men began to mill forward towards him, standing almost in line as they had the nurse before the mission began. John pulled the protector from the needle in his hand and plunged it into his arm. He felt the sharp sting and the release and the needles serum entered his body. It was his team, his job to take the lead and he would refuse to do any less. One by one he gave the men the same treatment. After all twelve had received their shots the men sat once more in the bunker.

Silent and wary. Watching each other. Waiting for the effects to kick in.