Shelter

by C A Bird

  “I’m not sure how he feels, but I really like him. He’s a little moody but he’s gorgeous and we have wonderful conversations. He’s been coming around the farm quite often and I don’t think it’s just the plants he’s attracted to.”

  Lori, who normally listened more than she talked, asked Chris, “What about Mark? I thought you guys were together.”

  “My Bro? I love Mark. He’s my buddy and we’ve been best of friends forever. That’s all. God, it would be like being with a brother. What made you ask that?”

  “Oh, I just knew you weren’t really siblings and since you’ve known each other for so long I guess I just assumed.”

  Chris laughed and the three kept on pedaling.

  But Lori wasn’t laughing, remembering how Mark had poured his heart out to her and thinking about how hurt he was going to be when he found out that Chris didn’t return his love in the same way he loved her.

  October 28, afternoon

  The usual group was clustered around the radio, heads cocked, hoping for a repeat of the faint sound that penetrated the static for a brief moment. Micah swore it sounded like a frantic human voice. He twiddled dials and, using the computer, tried to clean up the signal. After tense minutes of silence they acknowledged they weren’t going to get a repeat. Mark looked up and his eyes met Will’s. Will shook his head, “This is much worse than I ever expected. I thought we’d be able to contact others fairly soon after the war. The government shelter has the best equipment possible and it should have been sheltered from the EMP. They should be putting out a very strong signal.” He walked over to the monitor wall and examined each transmission looking for a change from the monotonous pictures they had become used to.

  “Could they have taken a direct hit that managed to destroy their shelter?” Mark asked.

  “Anything is possible. There are other shelters around the country as. . .”

  The intercom interrupted him, “Mr. Hargraves? This is Vernon Richenour. I’m with a group of concerned citizens at the door to your tower. We need to meet with you on some important matters.”

  “Certainly, hang on a minute.” Will answered. He hit the mute button by the door. “What the hell does he want?”

  Chris said, “I hear he’s been complaining ever since we got here. He goes around stirring up trouble.”

  “Is anyone listening to him?”

  Mark shrugged, “I think a few people have been taken in by him. I don’t think it’s serious.”

  “What do you know about him Jim?” Will hadn’t paid much attention to the social life of the shelter.

  “He’s annoyed me more than once. He thinks you should be a dictator and tell everyone what to do. He especially wants you to dictate that things should be done the way he wants.”

  “I’m going to invite him up here so he’ll be on my turf. You all can stay. Let’s find out what he wants.” He hit the mute button again and simultaneously pushed the button that unlocked the door in the hallway below. “Please come up Mr. Richenour.”

  The elevator door slid aside and Vernon, followed by a woman and three other men entered the elevator. When they arrived at the alcove Vernon was shocked to see the large cabinet labeled “weapons locker” built into the left side of the rock wall.

  “Oh my, this is a serious development. Did Hargraves tell any of you about these weapons?” They all shook their heads. “Well, its time he started telling us a lot of things,” he huffed. “And I wonder where this other door leads.”

  The group entered the control room and was disconcerted to find several others in attendance besides Hargraves. In fact, they were outnumbered. Mark liked most of the other residents of the shelter but he had no use for Richenour.

  “Come in Richenour.” Will acknowledged the others as they introduced themselves. Mark hadn’t had much contact with any of them and had never known the woman’s name, Rona Jenson.

  Will offered her a chair but the others remained standing. They seemed quite interested in the equipment, especially the video screens, and one of them started to ask a question about the pictures. Vernon cut him off, “We came here to discuss some other matters. Hargraves, all the residents of the shelter feel you have been withholding information.” He looked to the others for support and two of the men nodded.

  “Excuse me, Vernon.” Mark couldn’t let that go, “you don’t represent the residents and from what I’ve seen, very few of them feel as you do.”

  “That’s not true, I’ve spoken with many people who would like to know when we can leave.”

  Will folded his arms and stared directly at Richenour. “You are welcome to leave anytime you want. There’s a door in the alcove below here that leads through a series of positive pressure airlocks to the south side of the mountain so when you’re ready just let me know and I will personally usher you out.”

  “Well. . .” He stammered, “I . . . I didn’t mean I want to leave. I just want to know when we’ll be able to. But there are other concerns. We want to know why some people aren’t working, including your own son, and they hang around the bar all day but get as much food as everyone else, and some people are even hoarding food.”

  Will turned to Chris, “Is this true?”

  “The food is placed in the coolers and anyone can help themselves but I haven’t noticed anyone taking food they don’t eat in a day or two. At this time there’s still plenty of frozen and dehydrated foods. Kate has a rationing plan she will put into effect if she feels it’s necessary. Fresh foods are at a premium and I had the impression everyone was getting their fair share but perhaps we should invent some kind of coupon to ensure that they do.”

  “Discuss it with Kate and see what you can come up with.” Will told her. He turned back to Richenour. “Any other concerns?”

  One of the men tapped Vernon on the shoulder and whispered in his ear.“Oh yes, we also believe all the residents should be made to go to the doctor and be checked out for infectious diseases before he runs out of medicines or testing material. Oh, and another thing Hargraves, I just saw an arms locker down stairs. You never said you had guns here. That rather makes this a police state.”

  Will laughed, and Mark could tell he was genuinely amused. “In case you’ve failed to notice, Richenour, this shelter belongs to me and that puts me in charge. The weapons are mine and are intended for use only on the outside when we’re able to leave. I don’t anticipate having to use them before then but that’s my prerogative. If you had brought weapons to the shelter I wouldn’t confiscate them, they’re yours. On the one hand you accuse me of running a police state and then complain that I’m not forcing the residents to undergo mandatory medical testing. That’s contradictory.”

  Richenour was beginning to squirm as Will’s amusement was turning to anger. “I provided this shelter to give a small group of Human’s a chance for survival and I really don’t give a damn what anyone does now that we’re here. Every person in this facility is free to live their life as they see fit. Even though I own the shelter and I have suggested that people prepare for their future, I have no right to tell anyone what to do unless they hurt others, and if I choose to give away the supplies and provisions that’s up to me.

  “The only real freedom humans have is the right to property and your right to use the fruits of your own labor as you see fit. No one, especially not a government of other individuals should ever have the right to take your property by force. Individuals, however, have every right to form a body, call it what you will, to pay voluntarily to accomplish common goals. If the residents want to invent some form of exchange to place a value on their labor, that’s up to them but since they don’t have to buy provisions it may be fruitless. If they want to set up a quasi-government to handle other issues that’s fine too. Just don’t try to impose your will on others.”

  Will had advanced as he spoke, until he was directly in front of Richenour who took a step backward and cleared his throat before responding. “Well, we certainly will form a commi
ttee to address those issues but I… rather, we, must insist that you keep us better informed about your progress in contacting survivors on the outside.”

  “As soon as we manage to contact anyone,” Will said, “you all will be informed. Until then everyone should continue to prepare for life on the outside. Now get out of my control room,” He told them, placing the emphasis on “My.”

  October 29, evening

  Swigging down a shot of watered down whisky, Karl Dohner gazed with blood shot eyes at his disheveled image in the mirror behind the bar, an image that mocked him, reminding him he still lived… and she was dead. He’d spent several hours a day at the pub since its completion a month ago, drowning the memories that tormented him. Johnny Jay and the other men and women that alternated as bartenders grew tired of Karl’s incessant self-flagellation over past sins, real or imagined. Karl never confessed to anyone the real reason he drank himself into a stupor on a daily basis, visions of Kristen Douglas haunting him as he lived over and over again the view from his side-view mirror the day he panicked and drove off without delivering the last of the communication devices. She was young and very beautiful, her beauty increasing each time his tortured mind pictured her standing in her doorway looking at him with a puzzled expression as he drove off with her salvation.

  Mark stuck his head in the pub and looked around for Lori. He spotted Karl at the bar and it was immediately apparent he was drunk as his head bobbed low almost hitting his glass. Mark looked at Johnny who just shook his head, came over to Mark, and remarked in a low tone, “He’s been like this for weeks. I’ve even been missing booze and I’m sure he’s the one stealing it. Who else would it be?”

  Mark took Karl by the arm, “Come on Karl, you need a nap. I’m on my way to the daycare center and I’ll drop you off on my way.”

  Once he’d left Karl in his apartment he went back upstairs in search of Lori. “Hey sport, hold up there.” Mark reached out and swept Kevin off his feet as he ran by chasing his sister.

  “I’m gonna be a monster for Halloween. Then I’ll get her!” Kevin promised.

  “Well, she might be something even worse,” said Mark. “And she’s bigger than you. Maybe you better stick to Trick-or-Treating.”

  Kevin thought about it for a second. “Well, maybe.” He started to wriggle, “Put me down, I gotta get her!”

  Mark set him down and Kevin took off, emitting a shriek the instant his feet touched the floor. Mark smiled as Kevin disappeared into the other room of the daycare center in pursuit of his sister.

  He had come to know these children pretty well the last few weeks. He’d never been around kids much and didn’t know how he’d like it but these children were a complete delight. Of course, it was probably completely different when the total responsibility for their care was on you.

  He and Chris had never discussed children and he didn’t even know if she liked kids. He realized there were many things he didn’t know about her even after knowing her almost all his life. When they were together it seemed as if someone else was always there or, if they were alone, they just made small talk. Much of the time Chris was engrossed in her work with Sam or Aaron and he ended up spending his time with others. He suddenly realized how much time he was spending with Lori, that he talked more with her, and about more serious matters, than he ever did with Chris. He knew he was lucky to have as good a friend as Lori.

  Mark went over to the bench along the wall and plopped down beside Lori. “Does he ever run down?”

  “Not often.” She leaned back against the wall. “Sometimes it can be exhausting. I don’t know what I’d do without Faye Claret’s babysitting service.”

  “Why don’t you leave them here and we’ll get some dinner?”

  “Sure, I’m famished. I forgot to eat lunch.”

  “How come?”

  “There’s been a steady stream of instructors speaking with the kids lately. I do a lot of conventional teaching, of course, the kids still need to learn to read and write. But we’re spending more time teaching them skills.” They walked down the hallway to the cafeteria.

  “What kind of skills?”

  “Even the little ones are learning to make things, how to use tools, and are learning how things work. Dr. Whitehorse tells them how his people survived all these years, how they lived off the land, farmed, and raised animals. He’s also teaching them geology, so they know how we use the things that come from the earth.”

  They selected frozen dinners and popped them into the microwave. Occasionally the refrigerators had some fresh vegetables but there weren’t any today.

  “Steffie Childress is teaching them all, including the boys, to sew using natural materials. They’re all learning how to create clothes without the fabrics we take for granted every day. We’ve also had lessons in plumbing and carpentry.”

  “We?”

  “Yeah, it’s unbelievable how little I know about how things work or how to accomplish simple tasks. I’m learning as much as the kids.” They took their meals to a table and began to eat.

  “I know what you mean. In our modern world, we don’t need to know how things work. If something breaks we call a repairman, or we buy a new one, or hire someone when something needs to be done.”

  In her former life Lori had never used frozen dinners, it wasn’t allowed. She scowled at the barely recognizable food in front of her, poking it with her fork. “I wonder how much more food there is. Has Mr. Hargraves told you?” she asked.

  “We’re having some problems growing fresh food but I know there’s a huge store of frozen foods. There’s also nitrogen packed food if everything else runs out. I don’t know how long it will last. We should have some more fresh meat before long, too. Some of the pigs are almost big enough to slaughter. Mrs. Claret is planning a thanksgiving feast and we should have fresh vegetables and meat for that. I like that they’re supplementing the meals we’re eating with some of the dehydrated foods so the good stuff will last longer.”

  “It’s kind of scary, really. If we can’t increase our food stores we may have to leave before it’s safe. I don’t know what I would do.”

  He reached over and touched her arm. “I don’t think we need to worry about that and no matter what, I hope we’d all stick together.” He knew she was worried about the children. “Lori, Kevin asked me why his Daddy isn’t here. He said Daddy wasn’t home when you left. Now, I know it’s not polite to ask about former friends and family but do you want to tell me what happened?”

  She wasn’t quite finished with her meal but she dropped her fork. “No Mark, please, I don’t think I want to talk about it.” She abruptly stood and left the table.

  He didn’t try to follow her. He watched her go and was sorry he’d brought it up. Dropping the trash into the container by the door he dejectedly headed for home.

  SEVEN

  November 21

  Halloween had come and gone and Thanksgiving was fast approaching. The remnant, as they now referred to themselves, had settled into a routine of working, learning, playing and coping. Vernon Richenour continued to complain about almost everything, but no one listened seriously to his chronic bitching after Harry Jackson reported the gist of the conversation with Will Hargraves. There was some minor concern about the weapon’s locker, but the survivors trusted William Hargraves with their lives, indeed, had trusted him with their lives, and it was apparent to everyone they all would have perished, either from the nuclear blasts or the radiation, if not for him.

  Thanksgiving dinner was much anticipated by the residents. The menu had been planned by Rana Patel to include turkey, dressing, yams, mashed potatoes and gravy, and fresh greens. Chris had timed a harvest perfectly, and the turkeys had matured just in time for the holiday.

  The remnant was beginning to pull together into a cohesive unit after the first three months underground, but not as completely as Mark would have liked. The divisions, though, were along natural lines, with age, interests and functions dictating whom p
eople associated with. The younger residents hung out together, spending a lot of time in the multipurpose room listening to music and talking about the things teens have always talked about, and there was the cadre of leaders that Mark spent much of his time with.

  Unfortunately, a small minority of the residents didn’t participate in the educational efforts of the population and failed to contribute in any meaningful way to their welfare. Mark was chagrined to discover that one of these deadbeats was Clay. He knew Will was embarrassed by Clay’s behavior and he tried to suggest ways for Clay to become involved in the life of the shelter. He mentioned to Clay that he might conduct fitness classes or work in one of the machine shops but, as usual, Clay resented anything Mark suggested and refused to cooperate. He hung with his buddies at the pub or in the multipurpose room.

  Mark walked through the gym into the dojo and suited up for a workout. As usual, Lori was already there. She spent a great deal of time training, had already earned her blue belt and was becoming quite skilled. Their friendship had grown and Mark found himself spending much more time with Lori than he did with Chris. It surprised him, considering his love for Chris.

  He joined Lori in the workout line and they began with stretching. “Are the kids excited about Christmas?” he asked her.

  “They’re very excited. They’re making gifts in school and practicing for the Christmas pageant the teenaged girls are putting on. Candy’s organizing it.” She took hold of his ankles for sit-ups. “I’m more excited, though, about the upcoming wedding. Did you hear that Jean and Ron are getting married?”

  “You’re kidding!” He paused in his sit-ups. “They’re always arguing.”