“Safety precaution,” he said. “If those antiquated ladder rungs give out, I want a backup. I wish I had climbing gear, but this will work for now.”
“I think it’s fairly sturdy.” She appreciated Bennett’s foresight and caution.
On the vacant lot, Ivy led Bennett to the spot they’d marked, and together they cleared away the camouflage of dirt and leaves they’d scattered over the hatch that morning.
Bennett knelt beside it, running his hands over the metal surface. “This is substantial. Heavy-duty construction.”He found the recessed handle and pulled. The hatch lifted with the same protesting groan, revealing the dark shaft below.
Bennett called out into the dim recesses. “Hey, Vanz. Are you down there? We’re here to help you. No one wants to hurt you.”
They squatted by the edge, waiting, but there was only silence.
“Let’s go down,” Bennett said.
Ivy illuminated the ladder rungs with her flashlight. “It’s solid. We tested it thoroughly.”
“Let me go first.” Bennett glanced around and secured the rope to a nearby palm tree, then lowered the other end into the shaft. “Just in case a metal rung breaks under my weight. I’m heavier than you are.”
He descended carefully, testing each rung before putting his full weight on it. Ivy followed, her flashlight beam dancing across the concrete walls. When they reached the bottom, Bennett stood for a moment, taking in the space.
“This is incredible,” he said.
The bunker looked exactly as they’d left it. Bunk beds, desk, supplies, the pin-up poster still curling on the wall. Bennett moved to the desk, picking up one of theLifemagazines with care.
“May of 1944,” he said, reading the cover. “The Allies were planning the invasion of Normandy when this was published. But it would be more than a year before the Pacific conflict ended.” He set it down reverently and examined the binoculars and the viewing apparatus. “Given the natural rise of the land, they would have had a clear view of the ocean. This was a real operation. Someone spent serious time here, scanning the ocean.Likely watching enemy ships on the horizon and then relaying that information.”
“Look at the logs.” Ivy showed him the notebooks, opening one to reveal the neat handwriting. “Whoever manned this post was meticulous.”
Bennett read a few entries, his expression growing more absorbed. “This is town history we never knew. The historical society doesn’t have any record of this bunker. Nothing in the official archives.”
“Maybe the Ericksons kept it secret.” Ivy moved to the shelves, examining the preserved supplies. “It might have also served as a private shelter in case of invasion or attack.”
“That makes sense given the era.” Bennett looked around the room with new appreciation. “The fear was real. Japanese submarines cruised the California coast, sinking an oil tanker near Cambria and shelling Ellwood oil field near Santa Barbara. A submarine also landed covertly at Point Loma in San Diego. People genuinely believed an invasion was possible.”
Bennett took photos with his phone, documenting everything. When he reached the tunnel entrance in the second room, he stopped.
“Where does this go?”
“We saw it but didn’t explore. We thought the timbers might be unstable.” Ivy joined him, aiming her flashlight into the passage. “Looks like it was dug after the main bunker was built. You can see where the concrete ends and the hand excavation begins.”
“Escape route, maybe. Or they were trying to extend the shelter.” Bennett crouched, examining the entrance. “We’d need a structural engineer to assess if it’s safe to explore.”
“That’s for another day. We need to find Vanz.” Ivy turned, sweeping her flashlight across the bunks. Her heart dropped. “Oh, no. Everything was right here earlier.”
The sleeping bag and backpack were gone. The bunk sat empty, the thin mattress bare except for a wrinkled wool blanket full of dust.
“He must have come back,” Bennett said. “Either heard you or saw signs someone had discovered his hiding place.”
Ivy’s stomach sank. “I hope we haven’t driven him away.”
“It’s possible.”
Ivy checked the rest of the space. Nothing else seemed disturbed, except on the concrete floor, she saw a roll of breath mints, the kind Shelly liked. “I’ll bet these fell out of Shelly’s pocket, and he saw them. He probably grabbed his stuff and took off.”
They climbed back up the ladder in silence. At the surface, they lowered the hatch and stood looking at the lot.
“It would be a shame to build on top of this,” Bennett said. “To cover it up again when we’ve just rediscovered a part of the community’s history.”
“I was thinking the same thing.” Ivy brushed dirt from her jeans. “Maybe Forrest could work with the architect to change the plans, or how the building is situated on the land. I thought we might incorporate the bunker into the existing design in some way.”
