Ten Men in a Doomsday Bunker

Then headlights.

A man named Dale finds me. Takes me to his place—a bunker, six miles from nowhere. Concrete walls. Woodstove. String lights. And nine other men, all rough hands and hungry eyes, looking at me like I'm something to eat.

I should be terrified. I've been kept in a box my whole life—church, modesty, purity, all of it. But I ran from that box three days ago, and I'm done being good.

I tell them what I want.

All of them.

Tonight.

They don't hesitate. They take turns showing me exactly what I've been missing—one after another after another, until I've lost count and lost my mind and found something I never knew I needed.

By morning, I'll never be the same.

And I don't want to be.

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