Fear. It pulses through my veins at the thought of The Bunker. Oh, sure, I've been invited to it, I have my rightful place there, but the sheer idea of it sends shivers up my spine.
You see, in imagining The Bunker, I have to confess to not being too creative. In my head, it's a small metal room full of other people deemed "worthy" of life. Other strangers who will look and judge, all trying to work out why a simple girl like me has warranted such a place. And the answer? Well, I just don't know.
Taking a deep breath and tightening my hold on my hang bag, I begin the walk down the dark, eery corridor towards the guard. He looks up and smiles, I guess my unease is apparent by the grey tinge to my skin.
His eyes scan down the clipboard in front of him, his face still turned up at me. Feeling suddenly nauseous, I looked around the corridor, wishing I didn't have to be here right now. Wishing none of this had ever happened.
"I'm sorry Miss Holmes, there must be some kind of mistake. You aren't on this list."
"That can't be! I have the very let-"
"Hey, officer, she's with me!" I turn at the voice which holds more authority then I could ever dream off and gasp. The honourable Lewis Johnson is running down the corridor, his glasses running steadily towards the end of his nose.
"Of course Mr Johnson, I'm sorry for my mistake." The guard says, ticking off Lewis' name on the sheet he has and directing us towards a door. I, however, stay glued to the spot, generations of Holme's stubbornness burning in my blood. I will not go anywhere with that man.
Naturally, though, Lewis knows me well enough to know this. He takes tight hold of my arm and pretty much throws me first into the room they call The Bunker....