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There was no way anyone could have survived a crash like that, you heard it for god’s sake. Every hour that passes you become infinitely more thankful that you’re down here and not up there.
But the main thing on your mind right. now isn’t the crash, or the death, it’s the fact that anyone remotely nearby is going to be coming to your doorstep. Whether they have a radio and wrote down your coordinates after listening to your conversation with the pilot, or they’ve come to salvage the wreckage of the plane. At least most of the plane is far enough from the bunker, hopefully they don’t linger around the area.
The only thing you’re truly certain of is the gunman, you don’t know exactly how close he was, but he had to be nearby if he managed to shoot down Michael as he was coming in low. That means you’ve got at least one armed man close by, a man that could have been listening in, a man that could be on his way at this moment. And that’s if he’s alone. You can’t tell if he intercepted your signal, maybe he saw the plane from his vantage and just got lucky. Either way it doesn’t matter. You’re not one to guess right now.
You either need to start preparing somehow now before nightfall or find some way to distract yourself. There’s still the faulty piping beneath the sink.
Your daughter is anxious.
Your son is confused.
And your wife cleans the storage room.
How do you use those last few hours before night falls.
Something tells you that you won’t be getting much sleep tonight.
