“I was a beautician. I worked at a shop and then opened a shop in my home when my daughter was born. But I was a beautician.”
“See?” Tony nodded. “That’s good to know. A useful skill. If it was up to me, I’d use clippers on everyone.”
I thanked Nelly and Tony and I headed out. There was a noticeable temperature increase when we went to the walkway to Hive One.
It cooled some the lower we walked. We decided to start at the bottom and work our way up.
The generator room was loud. Unlike the sleeping floor, that lower level wasn’t sectioned off. It was one big circular room containing the guts of the bunker.
To my surprise, Duke was down there. He was a mechanic all his life, loved to fix things and took on the job of maintenance. Watching the machinery and making sure everything kept running was his new occupation.
“Fourteen thousand gallon tank,” Duke said about the fuel.
“What happens when it runs out?” I asked.
“Hopefully, it won’t. We plan on switching to wind power once the sun returns fully and most of the dust has settled. All of the blades are in storage. The tower is in place, it just needs to rise. Right now we’re burning about forty gallons a day, so we’re good for a while.”
Duke seemed like a no nonsense, straight forward and strong guy. I probably could have guessed every aspect of his life. But seeing how Tony wanted me to ask one question, I did. I asked him what his favorite music was. When he said country, I was thrilled. Jackson loved country and I was certain he had several of his songs that he wrote on his tablet.
I made a mental note that once I was brave enough to fire up his tablet I would let Duke hear them.
Heading to the next floor, Tony told me that the only two people I wouldn’t see were the two guards, Abe and Ben. Somehow I didn’t think those were really their names since at first Tony referred to them as A and B.
Abe and Ben took the night watch, making sure things ran smoothly and there were no problems while we slept. Also, Spencer, our police officer, had come down with a bug similar to mine.
Floor four was agriculture and it was divided into three sections. Growth, research and animals.
We had chickens. Despite the fact that we weren’t near them when we entered the floor, I could hear them.
“Only ten.” Melissa said. “And I know it’s warm, but we have the ultra violet lights running in the interior farm. It looks good. Skyler is with them.”
I asked Melissa why we had an entire floor for agriculture.
She replied. “Because I need to make sure we find a way, either topside or below, to be self sufficient long before our supplies run out. We don’t want to rely on storage. We want to count on growth.”
“Tell me something about yourself,” I said. “That I would be surprised to know.”
“I sew.” Melissa answered without hesitation. “I make my own clothes.”
“You farm and sew?” I asked.
“Yeah, you can say I was preparing for the end of the world long before I knew it.”
We walked to the chicken area, which had fake grass, fake sun and a coop. Skyler was there and I spoke with him for a while. I learned that he spoke three other languages and loved being in the Army. He even offered to help with security in the bunker. Monitoring and so forth.
Tony said he would take him up on that. Skyler would work all the time. He wanted to stay busy and joked that was why he was being the dedicated ‘Mother Hen’.
It made me smile.
We headed to the top floor. I had seen the medical room and Craig was in there taking inventory of what they had. He told us he hoped there was a never a need for it, but worried in regards to the future because anything we had would be useless in a few years.
Craig was one of those people who thought ahead. He was gentle and cared.
Peters’ office was tiny, and he had the least time to make for us. He was comparing statistics from previous impacts, trying to make predictions on the current one.
When I asked him about his life, he stated. “I don’t have time right now. I am trying to be focused. But if you want, I would love to make time for you. I’ll tell you all that you need to know.”
We left Peter’s office, and of course Tony had a sarcastic comment. He stated, “You opened yourself up to the first post apocalypse world stalker. He’s not going to leave you alone.”
Peter had a brilliant mind and a part of me didn’t mind at all spending time with him and listening to him. If I had anything, it was time to learn.
The switch room was last.
“And here’s the man of the hour,” Tony said. “And decade. Because he will keep us running into the next phase.”
Tom sat in a swivel chair and turned to me. “Glad to see you up. How are you feeling?”
“Better, thanks,” I said. “What is all this?”
“All this … is the hub,” Tom replied. “It controls the generators and the meters on the tanks. I watch to make sure everything is running and that nothing is overheating.”
“Speaking of which,” Tony said. “What’s the surface temperature now?”
“Last reading was one ninety-Fahrenheit. It’s bad.”
“People can’t possibly survive that,” I said. “Can they?”
“Yeah, if you think about it. The earth is one big sauna. It’s dry heat like a sauna. They can’t live in it but can travel in brief intervals. It won’t last. Once temperatures take a nose dive, they’ll last a long time.”
“Right now,” Tony added. “We can only gauge by right here. Around us. Once the antenna is lifted, we’ll be able to try to reach out. But we can’t raise it yet. Not yet.”
“Not with the temperatures the way they are,” Tom said. “The antenna is a pretty big deal. It goes pretty high. If we channel enough power to it, we may be able to break through the cotton candy cloud. You know that swirly thing of dust that’s gonna happen. Once that falls, we’ll reach out for sure.”
“Reach out to who?” I asked.
Peter entered the switch room, answering as he did. “For starters, the government surely doesn’t expect us to believe that they don’t have at least one grand survivor shelter out there. I mean, look at this place. One of three. If a private citizen with the knowledge did this, imagine the federal government.” He looked at us. “I’m sorry, I was eavesdropping from my office and wanted to join the conversation.”
I held up my hand. “That’s fine. You are a brilliant and famous scientist.”
“Thank you for that.” Peter said. “And those are the survivors we’ll reach out to first because they’ll have the technology to respond. And the space station, we’ll try that. Maybe tap into the NASA satellites.”
“Satellites? Space station?”
“Oh, sure.” Peter replied. “Ten thousand satellites are above us. We should be able to reach something. I mean if a satellite phone can, so can we. Maybe we can bounce a signal and pick up someone who thought enough ahead to protect the radio from the EMP.”
“So you guys honestly believe there are others out there?” I questioned.
“Without a doubt,” Tony replied. “Now there are. For how long remains to be seen.”
Tom added. “Long term, it will make sense to network with other survivor stations. If they build communications, they are building some sort of community. That’s my opinion.”
“We just have to find them,” Tony said.
“Or have them find us,” Tom’s voice dropped and he turned his chair. “What have we here?”
We all looked at the monitor feed from the scope.
Clearly someone was climbing the fence. When we caught the image, they dropped a bag. It was a smaller person, possibly a woman.
“Turn the scope,” Tony said. “Check the entire perimeter fence.”
The camera scope rotated to a panoramic view.
“Only at the front,” Tom reported.
“There’s more than one,” I said. “
I can’t make out how many. They're rippling.”
“Heat waves,” Peter explained. “They probably jumped from basement to basement making their way here. This place was public knowledge. An old silo.”
“What do they want?” I asked.
“In.” Tony answered. “The gate, main doors and hatch are all manual. Just in case we lose power. Is the hatch secure?” he asked Tom with some urgency.
“I’m not sure.”
“I’ll radio Skyler …”
“No.” Tom opened the drawer next to him and pulled out a revolver, then a radio. “I can make it to the hatch faster than Sky. He’s below. Pete. Monitor this, keep us posted.”
“Will do.” Peter took over Tom’s chair.
Tony reached down and turned on his radio. “I’ll head to the blast doors. Keep me posted if they get close, because I know for a fact that’s not locked.”
Tony raced out as I called his name.
“How many are out there?” I asked Peter.
Peter moved his hand over the screen. “Ten, twelve. Hard to say. There may be children, or they could just be their bags. The fence climber is opening the gate. Must be hot.”
I watched the screen, the person reached for the lock and jumped back. Upon seeing that, I raced from the switch room.
I knew what my goal was. Going after Tony, I ran up the stairs as fast as I could. When I reached the top and emerged into the bay, I heard Tom’s radio call.
“Hatch is secure.”
Then Peter’s voice. “They’re through the gate.”
It took a moment for me to catch my breath. The air was hot in the bay, I couldn’t even imagine what it was like outside.
I approached Tony.
He turned from the doors and walked my way. “No worries. They’re on the property, but they won’t get in. Doors are locked.”
I walked right by him.
“What are you doing?” His voice squeaked.
There were three heavy bolt latches that ran across the door. I shifted the first one.
“Anna.”
I shifted the second one.
“Anna.” He grabbed my hand. “What are you doing?”
“Letting them in.” I struggled with the third latch.
“You can’t do that.”
“This place is big …” I grunted. “It’s big enough. We have more than enough resources. You know that.”
“What we have isn’t my concern. It’s what is beyond that door. They broke in.”
“What were they supposed to do, Tony? Knock? Ring a bell? If we don’t let them in, they will die out there.”
“Is that really our problem?”
“There may be children out there.’
“We don’t know that.”
“I won’t risk it. You said, my house, my rules.” The last latch was really stuck and in my frustration I blasted. “Now help me open this goddamn door!"
“Fine!” Tony yelled back. “You’re making a mistake.” He freed the lock.
Without thinking, I grabbed the door.
“Anna, don’t open it …”
I should have waited for what he was saying because when I slid open the door, a blast of heat hit me like none I have ever felt. Obviously, he was giving me a warning.
I literally could not breathe. It was impossible to inhale or exhale. Tony yanked me back from the door and covered his mouth and nose with his shirt and moved back.
“Hurry. Make it quick!” Tony yelled out.
Once I was far enough away from the heat, I was able to catch my breath. When I did, I saw the people filing in. They were as apprehensive about entering as Tony was about letting them inside.
There were eleven and three of them were children.
Tony shut the door.
“Thank you. Thank you so much.” a woman said.
They stood there silently. Scared, dirty and covered with black, their clothes were tattered and they had burns. Many had burns that were fresh.
I looked at Tony who was studying them as if looking for a reason not to trust them.
“Come with me, we’ll take you below,” I said.
Taking a step forward, Tony grabbed my arm and whispered. “This was a mistake.”
“Then it was my mistake.” I started to walk and he stopped me again. “What?” I asked.
He looked at them, then at me. “I’m not giving up my room.”
With a shake of my head in disbelief, I walked from Tony and led the pack of survivors downstairs.
29 – Rethinking
Things had calmed down a lot by early evening. Not that there were a ton of people, but we had just doubled our population. Joie was ecstatic to see children to play with. But play time would have to wait. Our new comers weren’t well.
It was my decision to let them in. Tony was verbal about his dismay; a couple of the others gave me glances but didn’t say a word. I realized since I had made the choice then I had to be the one to show it could work and it was the best choice.
Nelly made a huge kettle of soup and it went far, feeding everyone.
I wasn’t really that hungry, but I ate because I needed to. I also needed to start organizing. For some reason people looked to me to run the bunker, because it was designed for me. I wanted to hand that task over to Tony, but seeing how I was never one to shirk my responsibilities, I would do the best I could.
That would start with getting a grip on the situation.
Setting rules was something I’d work on.
I asked Peter if by chance he had an extra laptop. He did not. I told him Jackson had brought his tablet, but I was fearful of losing all the music my son had created and recorded on there.
Peter borrowed the tablet and when he returned it, he told me it was safe. The music was wiped and stored.
I felt relieved. I had used Jackson’s tablet before and was familiar with it, but I had forgotten what his wallpaper was.
When I swiped the screen my heart skipped a beat. A smiling picture of my son greeted me and in it were Gil and I. It was just taken just a few weeks earlier at Jackson’s musical.
After dinner and after everyone had settled into their rooms, I sat at the back table in the dining area, turning off the windows so I wouldn’t get distracted.
I used only one light, that was all I needed. I sipped some brandy as I reviewed the manuscript that Melissa had given me.
“That was done by a dietician,” Melissa explained as she sat across from me. “It lists everything we have in storage below and on the floors. Everything. There’s a flash drive in that book. I don’t know if it was affected by the EMP because it was here in the bunker. But if you can get that information on that tablet, that will help.”
“I’ll have Peter take a look at it. If not, I’ll start keying in the info.” I looked up at her. “It will take my mind off of things.”
“I’ll help. One key thing is we have to really start keeping track. We can not have a realistic ration plan and outlook if we don’t keep track of what we use.”
“What do you suggest?”
“Inventory what is here in the kitchen and then mark off what we take to fill the kitchen. Usage in the kitchen doesn’t need to be documented, that is nickel and diming and will drive us all nuts.”
“Says here …” I flipped through the book. “Suggested Rations for three plus years for fifteen people.”
“Fifteen adults. Full size adults. Some of that is way more than we need. If we create a decent ration menu, we can make it last. Long enough at least until we start growing food. And none of that includes the eggs we get from the chickens.”
“It sounds complicated.”
“I can help. Really, I can. Some will need more than others. We have twenty-five people now, five are children. Two are over sixty. I don’t eat much and neither do you. Our best bet is to sit down with Craig, come up with a recommended daily intake per person and break it down from there.”
“Sounds like a plan, thank you.”
“Not a problem. Busy is good. It’ll be like a puzzle when we sit down to work it all out.” Melissa stood. “I would recommend not taking anything from the floor storage or below until we have completely exhausted what we have in the kitchen.”
“Then we’ll do that.”
As Melissa was leaving, I paused to close the spreadsheet program and steal a glimpse of Jackson. I heard her say something and when I looked up, Craig was in the room.
“Have a minute?” Craig asked.
“Absolutely.”
“I have an update.” He walked over and joined me at the back table.
“I’m sorry I haven’t been there to see them all, I know you had your hands full.”
“I did, but you were getting things moved. We got them all settled into second floor housing. I don’t have enough room in the medical office, so we doubled up in rooms where we could. It will be easier for us to keep track of their progress. All of them are severely dehydrated, and to no one's surprise, suffering from heat exposure. Six have severe burns, so we’re keeping them isolated. My father, Skyler and I will make rounds all night."
“The children?”
“Doing surprisingly well. One little girl has burns pretty bad on her feet. Her shoes were basically melted when she arrived. Four of them are feeling pretty good and want to leave the floor. I am cautious about that.”
“Can I ask why?”
“Many reasons. My main reason is health of all of us. They had to be drinking something. They could have picked up any kind of bacteria from bad water. I just want to make sure. There is good news though.”
The words ‘good news’ made me smile.
“We have,” Craig stated. “A nursing mother. The one child is not quite two and for some reason the mother was still nursing. Pumping her milk. So that helps. I believe we can ask her help in feeding Baby John and extract her milk.”
“Is her milk good?”
“I'm running tests now. But I believe so. We just have to make sure she gets top priority with nutrients and water.”
“She’ll get what is needed... not a problem.”
With a tired exhale, Craig stood up. “It’s gonna be a long night. Or rather a long couple of days. I’m gonna head back over there.”
Protocol One Page 12
