Dust (24 page)

In a way it was fascinating. Images bounced off of functioning satellites provided a view of the cloud as it moved across the country. From the photocopied images the cloud looked like a huge snowstorm that extended from the top of the world to the bottom. Occasional paragraphs of reports informed us that the military used some sort of land rover to survey populated areas. The rover would roll in just before the arrival of the cloud, then dig in and roll back out after it was clear.

In the beginning the nuclear cloud held tight over the west coast teetering in which direction it would move. My guess was, fingers were crossed that it would head west, hit the pacific and go directly to China where it belonged. It didn’t.

They started the reports in Utah. The scariest of all the data came from Salt Lake City. The army suggested that sixty percent of the area’s population survived the blast. Amazing. Sixty percent. Then came the cloud. For four days it loomed over the city. Radiation levels skyrocketed to near two hundred rads per hour and temperatures dove to minus sixty degrees. When the radiation dropped, temperatures rose, and the cloud moved on ... the army moved in. The city was dead. Rovers rolled out, calling over speakers for those who could hear to ‘come on out’.

Nineteen people responded.

Things were brighter in Dallas. Radiation levels peaked at one hundred forty and temperatures only made it to minus fifty. The last count, twenty-seven hundred people had checked into a rescue station. Population figures hadn’t arrived from Chicago, but they boasted better news. Their rads only hit one hundred. However Indianapolis was the winner in warmth, they dipped to a mere minus thirty-five.

Though there were numerous reported cities, the statistics stopped in Indiana.

It was doom situation, but the progression of the cloud brought a progression of hope.

Davy and I sat for hours over those papers, until the sun came up. It amazed me that with each passing hour, the more level headed he and I became. Plotting and planning, what needed done, and how we would implement those plans. Detail after detail. Miniscule to large.

We were our own scientific team. Deciphering what we read, putting together logical theories based on facts. We deducted our own conclusion of when the cloud would arrive and what level of vengeance it would bring.

We gave our best guesses.

Sitting with Davy, discussing the situation was a dose of medicine that I needed. We were focusing on survival, something we knew we were getting quite good at. There wasn’t time to panic, because our time and energy would best be used in getting things ready. All the worrying in the world wasn’t going to change things.

Fact:
 
It was coming.

We had to buckle down, prepare and brace ourselves. Everyone one of us had made it through a big hurdle, and there was no reason to believe we wouldn’t make it through another.

21. Digging In
 

We were ready. After taking an entire night to get informed about the impending situation, I told the others. They handled it well. For the most part, all but Tammy. She scoffed at the notion, argued that it was something from a sci-fi movie, and when I showed her the facts that were presented to me, she smacked away my hand sending the papers flying. I didn’t have to say anything, Burke said it all. When Tammy stated we were being ridiculous for getting ready, Burke merely told her, ‘unless you’re too sick, dying, or a small child, you will help us. If not, then anything that we do in preparation, will be benefits you will not reap when the time comes.’

Everybody helped out and pitched in. We didn’t expect Nicky to aid, she was too sick. But after a couple days on the antibiotics, though ill, her strength was getting better and she took over the task of inventory. Tammy did as little as possible. Simon and Matty played organizers of all the stuff. Davy joined the ranks of the men by being a laborer.

We spent days gathering items from other homes. Things that we felt weren’t contaminated, like: blankets, wood, furniture that could be burned in the fireplace. Everything from my basement was moved to Mark’s house so it wouldn’t freeze. Craig made radio call after radio call spreading word throughout the airwaves of the approaching nuclear cloud. We hoped that people heard. No one responded. Dan worked diligently for days creating a makeshift outhouse over the drainage pipe in the garage. Hating to say it, he did well.

We covered all angles ... literally. Even though the basement windows of Mark’s home were blocked out from the inside, Burke, Craig and Rod heaped dirt over the outside portion of the windows and all around the basement circumference of the house. Mattresses were brought in to cover the doorways when the time came. We were ready.

Then it grew cold.

Late night, thirteen days AB, the change occurred. Tanner had stopped by for a visit and when he was leaving, it hit. As if in a snap of a finger, the temperature began to drop. I hoped it was a fluke, but Burke did a readout and the radiation has move to six rads per hour. It was a matter of a half a day, and it would be upon us. Tanner assured me he would be back, that he had things to take care of. I didn’t want him to leave because I knew that come forty rads, Burke was locking us down tight. No one gets out. No one gets in.

I was almost afraid to face the morning. Although I remained relatively calm, I was in no way disillusioned over the magnitude of what we faced.

The daily alarm on Davy’s clock chimed at 10:15 precisely. It had been ten hours since the first symptom hit. The sun barely peeked through the overcast sky, and without a doubt it was getting darker. The little hanging thermometer outside the basement door had frosted over and bottomed out at minus ten degrees.

Davy created a chart, and he had started keeping track of the temperature and radiation changes. Every time Craig or Burke went out, Davy documented it. He told me how he was going to log—not just readings—but all that occurred in the shelter in the midst of the ‘dug in’ duration. That log would prove interesting when it was all said and done.

Not long after the alarm clock went off, Craig went out. He returned exasperating a vocal ‘burr’ and shut the door.

“That’s it.” Craig said, setting down the Geiger counter. “We’re maxing. Lock it down.”

Burke nodded once. “I have the upstairs door covered. Even though fuckin Tammy is making the stairs her home.”

“Garage or this door?” Craig asked.

“Um, you take this one, I’ll finish up the garage,” Burke said.

Craig followed Burke’s dictate and headed to the garage. Burke began to follow behind.

“Wait. No.” I reached out grabbing Burke’s arm. “Leave access for Tanner.”

“If Tanner ain’t here by the time I bolt us down, Tanner don’t get in.” Burke stated firm.

“You can’t do that. He’s coming. We know that.”
 
I argued. “He brought clothes, a sleeping bag ... ”

Burke walked away. “He’s not here.”

“Well you can’t lock him out.

“Yeah, Jo, I can.” Burke headed into the garage, just as Craig walked out carrying a mattress.

I spun in confusion on who to stop. Burke or Craig. Two mattress were already placed over the garage door, all Burke had to do was put up the other two and secure them with the old furniture we had gathered in there.

“Burke ... ”

“Jo. Sorry.”

“Asshole.” I stormed out and tried my other option. “Craig.” I called his name as I made it back to he door. “Please don’t secure that ... ”

A triple knock rang out.

“A ha!” I flew to the door. “Tanner?”

“Yeah.” Tanner called from the other side. “Jo, let me in the garage instead.”

Hollering, “I’ll meet you there.” I gave a pat to Craig’s back, instructed him to continue and raced to the garage. “Don’t secure it. Tanner’s here. Lift the garage door.”

The grumble was loud and Burke stopped sliding the dresser against the mattresses. “I’m killing him.” The four mattresses were already in place and Burke began to move them aside. I helped him the best I could. When the door was clear enough to open, Burke grabbed the handle and lifted the garage door.

It raised a little over two feet when Tanner yelled out, “OK, that’s enough. I’ll slide through. Grab these.”

“Grab what?” Burke asked.

“Does he sound strange to you?” I asked. “Mechanical.”

“Christ, Jo, I’m not paying attention.” Burke snapped and jumped back when a medium size box slid in. “What the hell is this?” A knapsack followed it. “I thought he brought what he needed.”

I shrugged and watched as Tanner slid in last. He wore a shiny silver radiation suit and resembled something from a movie. Once in, he stood and closed the garage door.

Though Burke immediately began to cover the garage door with the mattresses, it didn’t stop him from bitching. “What the fuck took you so long?”

The ceasing of an oxygen flow into his suit caused a ‘hiss’, and then Tanner unzipped his headgear and removed it. “Sorry.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “The rescue station was pandemonium.” He turned his back to me. “Jo, could you unzip me.”

“Sure.” I reached for his zipper and undid it.

“Thanks.” Tanner stepped from the suit. “Plus, I had to get some things. This outfit was one of them.”

Burke shook his head. “Did you stop to think that if you weren’t running so late, you wouldn’t need the suit?”

Tanner smiled. “Nah, I would have still brought the suit. One of will have to go out and do a reading in a day or two.”

It was a response, that’s all, a complimentary one to Tanner. But, no sooner did I say, “Oh, good thinking,” an echo developed in the room.

Nasal, mocking, and barely audible, Burke whispered, “Oh good thinking.”

My mouth dropped open. “Oh my God are you rude.”

“I’m tired, that’s what I am,” Burke said and started to walk out. “Wake me up in a few.”

Shaking my head, I looked up to Tanner and tried to make light of the Burke attitude. “And he wonders why he doesn’t have any friends.”

Burke was out of the garage, but he still managed to add a comment. “They’re all dead, that’s why I don’t have any friends.”

Tanner chuckled. “His mood will change, once he gets some rest. He stays up most of the time.”

“I know. Craig has offered to take watch. Rod. Even Dan. But Burke won’t have it.”

“Understandable.” Tanner bent down and picked up his knapsack. “Shall we leave the garage? It’s pretty cold in here.”

“Absolutely. Do you need help?”

“Um ... yeah. Carry this.” He handed me the knapsack. “I’ll get the box.”

“What did you bring?” I asked.

“Well, you’re holding medical supplies. And this ... ” Tanner attempted the box then lifted it. “A surprise to brighten the mood at times. But ... you can say it’s mainly for the kids.” Saying no more, carrying the box, Tanner walked out.

***

Being intrigued over the box made me stoop to devious measures to find out the contents. Tanner was reluctant to tell me what it was, so I had Simon ask.

Tanner opened the box at the request of the inquisitive three-year-old. At first we all were envious. Not a single one of us didn’t salivate with jealousy watching the kids enjoy their gift. Simon inadvertently gloated the most. Smiling from ear to ear, his little face was plastered with tomato sauce. He rolled his fingers over his plate, and brought the remnants he acquired to his mouth. We all watched.

“Like that, Simon?” Tanner asked.

“Oh, boy.” Simon nodded.