The First Kick
Amber leaned back against the plush velvet armchair that she had watched Dan drag into the nursery corner – after he forbade her from helping. Above her, the Vantablack ceiling seemed to disappear into infinity, leaving only the soft, shifting glow of the fiber-optic constellations they had spent hours wiring.
"It really does feel like we're outside," she whispered, her voice reflecting the peace she hadn't felt in weeks.
Dan sat on the floor at her feet, his head resting against her knee. For the first time since they had entered the bunker, the lines of tension around his eyes had smoothed out. He looked like the man she had married, not the frantic husband and father working to protect his family.
"I told you I'd give you the stars, didn't I?" he teased, though his hand remained protectively near her stomach.
They sat in quiet silence for a long moment. Each lost in their own thoughts. Her drifting between her responsibilities, her baby, and the old key she kept with her at all times. Him wholly focused on her.
"Dan, I want to talk to you."
He set up with a frown, turning toward her in one smooth motion. "What is it? Are you okay?"
She nodded. "Yes, I am fine. It's just that Jessica was a bit worried that you wouldn't keep us safe."
His frown deepened. As he looked at Amber closely. Was she wanting to leave again? What had Jessica said? Amber sighed sad pulled the old skeleton key out of her pocket.
"I don't know why it is so hard for me to tell you this. She gave me a key to one of the older cabins. The family doesn't use it much because it is completely off grid." Dan quietly looked at the key on her palm. "But we don't need a plan B, because you have planned all of this so well." Her hand waved about indicating the complex.
Dan sat in silence for a long moment. "Jessica really has changed. She is right Amber. It is better to have as many backup plans as possible. Keep the key." He shrugged. "Who knows what will happen."
Amber looked at him for a long moment then a slow smile spread across her face. She leaned forward then kissed him. Suddenly she gasped, her hand flying to the side of her belly.
Dan practically lunged forward, as if to catch her mid fall. "Amber? What is it? Are you—"
"No," she laughed, a bright, genuine sound that echoed off the acoustic fabric of the forest walls. "He's just... he's awake. Give me your hand. Quick."
Dan reached out, his breath held, pressing his palm where she indicated. For a few seconds, there was only the steady thump of Amber's heart and the quiet hum of the bunker's ventilation. Then, a sharp, distinct thud pressed against his palm. Then another.
Dan's eyes widened. He looked up at Amber, his face filled with an expression that was half-awe, half-terror. "That... he's strong. "
"He's a Trace," Amber said softly, her fingers tangling in Dan's hair, her smile reflecting in his eyes. "Of course he's strong. He's already trying to build something in there." He kicked again and she giggled. "Or maybe he is playing football."
He looked to her round belly with a small smile then he leaned in. "Listen to me little one. You have to keep being strong. Mommy and I are waiting for you and when you get here.." He looked up to Amber with the same smile on his face. "When you get here the three of us will experience world together. I will give you and your mom everything and more."
For a long moment, they stayed like that—anchored to each other by the tiny, rhythmic life moving between them. In the soft light of leaves falling and shadows between trees dancing, the stalker seemed to be something of Grimm fairytales.
All that was true was their love for each other and their need to always be together. It seemed like something synchronized between them like their internal clocks had aligned and their hearts and souls had intertwined.
As they remained lost in each other's eyes a tiny blue light, on the small control panel near the door, flickered once, then twice. It wasn't a warning. It was a Synchronization Acknowledgment. The bunker's internal clock had just adjusted itself to match a secondary server.
Dan didn't see it. He was too busy leaning in to kiss Amber and then her belly, whispering promises to a son he hadn't met yet, while the "Ghost" quietly began to breathe through the vents.