Heavy rains the next week delayed the construction, but proved out the fact that only minimal drainage and waterproofing efforts would be needed to keep the shelter dry. But two days after the rain stopped the construction began. Since only the shell was being built initially, it went quickly.
The ravine bottom where the shelter was going in was widened and the earth stockpiled. A monolithic pour for the foundations and floor was made in one long eighteen hour day. Construction stopped to allow the concrete to cure.
Despite worsening tensions in Europe, the Middle East, and the Far East, and the worry these caused to the residents, Juan insisted they wait the full time required for the concrete to be set to allow the installation of the reinforced block walls.
Even though several of the residents pitched in to help with the raising of the walls, as they had with the wing walls at the gate, Juan used his crews to speed things up significantly. Finally the four walls were completed, with entrances on each end of the building, and the reinforced block columns to support the roof were in place.
Sturdy forms were built for the concrete roof and rebar fashioned and put into place. Another monolithic pour and the main work was done. It would be another two weeks before the dirt from the ravine expansion could be moved and spread on the roof of the shelter, using half a dozen skidsteer loaders to avoid the much heavier weight of larger equipment on the roof.
During the wait time, people began moving supplies and equipment into the enclosure, and those with the skills began building their room to suit themselves. Most didn’t bother with any kind of kitchen in their room, but many added a closet sized cubby to hold a chemical toilet to supplement the chemical toilets in the common area bathrooms. A large trench had been dug for the future disposal of the chemical toilet waste.
Water was brought in for storage in fifteen-gallon drums and Reliance seven-gallon water totes. The Reliance totes had a spigot and would be used to draw water from as needed, and then would be refilled from the drums. The simple sinks would drain gray water into the drains that kept the ravine from flooding. The simple shower stalls used SunShower type bags, to be filled with warm water heated in the kitchen for bathing. That water drained into the ravine drains, too.
A moderate sized generator was purchased, along with a large diesel fuel tank, to supply the shelter with minimal electrical outlets. The main reason for the power unit was to provide electricity for the only sophisticated utility in the shelter. That was a series of CBRNE air filtration units to maintain adequate clean air circulation inside the shelter. Each had a back-up battery and could be pumped by hand, but it was very labor intensive. The generator was insisted upon by every person that tried the hand pump feature of the filters before installation.
Cooking would be done on camp stoves, as the air system provided adequate ventilation to do so, allowing a very low cost kitchen.
Two large refrigerators were installed, powered by the generator, that would be filled with the residents’ fresh foods when they came to the shelter, and then to keep things like milk chilled for safety. Two freezers were installed, too. Again, to take the frozen food that residents brought when they cleaned out their home freezers.
Though each family was responsible for constructing their own room, delineated by marks on the floor and ceiling, a construction crew formed early on in the process and just built the rooms one after the other, without regard for ownership. All the materials had been purchased together, and everyone found it just easier for those with the skills and tools to do one thing to do that, while the rest did whatever they could to help and perform other tasks.
The shelter was completed two weeks before Thanksgiving of that year. Just about the time the snows started. Snow wasn’t unknown that early in the year, but never had there been a blizzard that early in living memory.
There was much speculation that the several years without evidence of sunspots was an indication of reduced solar radiation, and the cooler than normal previous summer and the hard winter that was setting in.
It wasn’t really certain that the community would have celebrated Thanksgiving Day in the shelter, had the conditions not been so bad, or not. But the fact was that during the last meeting, which was now taking place in the shelter, the idea was brought up and seemed to develop on its own.
The families outside the cul-de-sac that were now a part of the community were contacted and invited. They all attended, as did the residents of the cul-de-sac, the first time some of the people had met the others.
The day acted as a basic test of the facilities, and they were found to be adequate, but definitely not luxurious. An immediate need was discovered. The babies and small children needed an area where they could be taken care of and kept entertained during active times, separate from the rest of those in the shelter.
But the day went well, and everyone headed home after the day’s activities, to catch the ends of the football games and other regular Thanksgiving Day activities. A couple of people stayed behind to help Hank clean up, but he quickly sent them packing to enjoy the benefits of American life during a holiday.
The work done, Hank shut down the generator and walked through the dark, silent shelter, using one of the dozens of wind up flashlights that had been acquired for use in the shelter when the LED lights wired to a battery bank were turned off to conserve power.
He was smiling when he went home a few minutes later.
The weather was the main topic of news through Christmas and New Years. But things returned to somewhat normal conditions after that, leading toward a late spring. Then, civilization, as the small community knew it, ended.
CHAPTER TWO
There was warning, of a sort, but it was all rhetoric by the leaders of half a dozen nations. Accusations, counter accusations, warnings and counter warnings. It was enough for Hank to move his stored sandbags to fill the basement windows and doorway, and cover the house floor over the shelter. Then, when it happened, it happened quickly.
Russia launched tactical nuclear missiles against the newly installed anti-missile defenses that the US had installed in Poland. That seemed to be the trigger for all else that happened. The US retaliated in kind. India and Pakistan attacked each other with their nuclear arsenals, China moved on Taiwan and the US intervened.
Israel was hammered by everything the Arab and Muslim coalition in the Mid-East could throw against them, including the thought to be a few years away nuclear capability that Iran had developed. There were additional nuclear devices used against Israel including suicide bombers driving nondescript vehicles with tactical warheads in the trunks.
But Israel went down fighting. All four-hundred plus of her nuclear devices were delivered to the enemy, three-hundred eighty-seven of them successfully.
At first, it looked like China would back off from the Taiwanese invasion, but when Taiwan not only defended its shores, but launched their own conventional missile attack against the Chinese troop buildup on the mainland; China began dropping nukes on the island, and the two US Fleets in the area.
Everyone with nuclear capability was drawn into the conflict on one side or the other. It was what had been feared since the beginning of the Cold War. Global Thermonuclear War.
Hank’s first knowledge of the start of the war was when his NOAA All Hazards Alert radio squealed and instructions on how to build expedient fallout shelters was given. He didn’t hesitate. He got up from his desk at work, put his head in his boss’ office and said, “I’m out of here. I suggest you duck and cover. I’ll check in after this is all over.”
Sam Smith just looked at Hank blankly. Hank shook his head and ran for his Suburban. He had taken to carrying a lot of cash stashed on his person and in the Suburban, with the intent to pick up last minute items in case the worst happened.
Thinking about it for merely seconds, upon seeing the crowds rushing into the store he was stopping at, Hank turned around and headed home at the fastest speed that was safe. There were already pe
ople from the cul-de-sac heading for the shelter.
Thinking of the four families living in other areas of the development, Hank thought for another couple of seconds, ran down the steps into the basement and grabbed what he considered his combat gear, and went back upstairs.
He thought about taking the Suburban down to the gate, but quickly dismissed that idea. It was better off inside the garage. Hank broke into a shuffling run and made it to the gate in a couple of minutes. A resident was just pulling up. It was Elizabeth. Her eyes wide, she looked at the heavily armed Hank, then used her card key to open the gate. She drove through without a word to Hank.
There was a steady stream of residents returning to the cul-de-sac. Then the first non-member of the group pulled up to the gate. “Let me in! I know you have a big shelter!”
Hank didn’t have time to think about it. When the man thrust a pistol out of the driver’s window Hank automatically dropped the muzzle of his PTR-91 slightly and pulled the trigger. The round went through the window opening and struck the driver in the throat. The pistol dropped from his left hand as both hands went to his ruined throat.
Hank stood there in shock for over a minute. But then Juan drove up in his construction truck. Juan went pale despite his dark complexion when he got out of the truck and ran over to Hank, catching sight of the blood spattered inside of the windshield of the car blocking the way.
“Come on, Hank, my friend! Snap out of it! Help me push the car…”
Hank shook his head, as if shaking off a heavy load, and ran with Juan over to the dead man’s car. Hank reached through the window and shoved the man over on the seat. Fortunately the car was still in gear and Hank was able to shift it into neutral without having to get in and step on the brake.
He and Juan pushed and the car rolled away down the slight slope, to come to rest in the ditch that paralleled the entrance to the gate. Pete drove up and waited for Juan to get into his truck, open the gate and drive through before he followed suit. “I’ll be back to help!” he called through the open passenger window to Hank. Hank nodded, relieved.
There were no more interlopers for a while as resident after resident came home. Hank thought about just leaving the gate open, but after mentioning it to Pete, who was back, armed to the teeth, the decision was made to keep it closed and open it only when the person was identified.
William and Julie showed up a bit later, both armed. They waved at Hank and Pete, and then took up prone positions nearby to back the two men up. At ten minutes till noon, the sky went brilliant white in the direction of the city’s airport. Hank and Pete dove behind the block wing walls of the gate. William and Julie covered their heads and stayed where they were.
The pressure of the shock wave pressed the air from their lungs and the sound, beyond loud, hurt their ears. Then the shock wave reversal sucked the remaining air from them. All four gasped for breath and shook their heads, trying to get rid of the ringing noise.
Quick looks showed the ugly mushroom cloud beginning to grow in the distance. Pete had to wait a few moments to collect himself, but Hank got back up and went to the gate. He tried his key. The gate wouldn’t open. “EMP,” he called to the others and unlatched the manual gate release.
A convoy showed up a few minutes later, three vehicles with a total of five trailers being pulled. It was the residents from outside the cul-de-sac that had bought into the shelter. “We lost one vehicle to EMP,” yelled Stan Jenkins. “But we got everything transferred to the rest of the rigs.”
Hank nodded and opened the gate manually. He noted the shoulder holstered handgun that Stan wore as he drove through the gate. His wife appeared to be armed, too. It was the same in the other two fully loaded vehicles. Hank didn’t know what they were bringing, but was sure whatever the vehicles and trailers contained would be of use to the community. Definitely the firepower.
That was the last of the vehicles that showed up. More residents straggled in on foot, moving as quickly as they could. Non-residents showed up, too. But the presence of four armed people at the gate turned them away without any real confrontation.
Juan came trotting down the street toward the gate. “Elizabeth and a couple more took a headcount. All here but nine.”
“Thanks, Juan,” Hank said. “I’d totally lost track.” He looked up as dust began to rain down. “Into your shelters!” he yelled. “Wash off before you go in.”
Pete, William, Julie, and Juan all took off as fast as they could run. Hank looked toward the approach street and saw the Stevens family approaching. Sara was carrying the baby, Steven the next oldest, and holding the hand of their third child.
“Hurry!” Hank yelled, seeing a rather large group of people approaching from the other direction. He opened the gate and ran to meet the Stevens. He swept up Bradley and all three adults ran full tilt toward the gate. So did the approaching group.
Hank and the Stevens made it first, but not by much. As the family headed for the shelter, Bradley once again on his own feet, Hank turned and locked the gate just as the mob reached it. Hank turned and ran, hearing shots behind him. He began to zigzag, but took a round high in his back in his left shoulder. He went sprawling, hitting the ground hard.
But gunfire erupted from in front of him and he pushed to his feet, and continued toward his house as his neighbors covered his back. Elizabeth and Juan met him there and urged him to go to the community shelter. But he refused. “No. Mine. You all will need all the space you can get.”
“I’ll stay with him,” said a woman running up to the three as the rest of the neighbors headed for the shelter. “I’m a Paramedic.” She motioned with her thumb at the large pack on her back. “My medical kit.”
Between them, the three got Hank into his basement. Elizabeth and Juan headed back to the community shelter as the woman helped Hank get off his combat harness and shirt.
“This doesn’t look too bad,” said the woman and shrugged out of the pack straps.
Hank was silent, except for some grunts and groans as the woman worked on the wound. “Bullet went through. I think it probably chipped the collarbone. I’d X-ray it if I could, but it shouldn’t be a problem, anyway.” She taped bandages over the entrance and exit wounds.
“Who are you?” Hank finally asked as the woman turned and looked around until she found the basement bathroom in the shelter so she could wash up.
“Bernie Hawthorne. Bernie. Short for Bernice.”
“Oh. I thought Bernie was a guy.”
“Not in this lifetime. We both are contaminated and need to shower off before we go into the shelter. You have something I can wear? My other gear is in the other shelter.”
Moving slowly from the pain and the stiffness of the wound, Hank found a trunk in one corner of the basement. “I think this stuff should fit you. Might be a little storage smell on them.”
Bernie opened the trunk. It was filled with women’s clothing. She didn’t ask where they were from. She picked out something and went into the bathroom, closing the door behind her.
Hank picked up the PTR-91 and walked over to one of the basement windows facing the cul-de-sac entrance. He was none too soon. Though it hurt, he opened the window, lifted the PTR to his shoulder and fired off a round. One of the men trying to climb the gate fell back, screaming, though Hank couldn’t hear it.
Hank decided someone else was keeping an eye on the gate from where they were. Another person fell and the group at the gate broke and ran. Except for four. It was Bren, his wife, and two children. They walked up to the gate and waved.
Bernie came out of the bathroom wearing a jump suit and Hank turned to her. “I need to go let the last people in before I shower.”
“Oh, no you don’t!”
“Oh, yes, I do!” Hank said and headed for the basement stairs. Hank didn’t hear what Bernie said, but he suspected it wasn’t very nice.
There was suddenly a pistol in her hand, but she didn’t point it at Hank. Instead, she said, “Then let’s go a
nd get back.” She led the way up the stairs.
Hank fumbled a magazine out of one of the pouches on the battle vest and into a pocket. He knew he couldn’t get the vest on again for a while. But with a full magazine in the PTR and one in his pocket, he decided he was okay.
Hank followed Bernie all the way to the gate. He looked around once and saw Pete wave from one of his basement windows. He had a view of the gate, too, just not as good at the one from Hank’s basement.
“The keys… My left pocket…” Hank couldn’t get the key ring out of his pocket.
Bernie reached in and pulled out the key and used it in the lock on the gate. She’d barely swung it open enough for Bren and his family to slip through when they were charged by some of the group hiding out of sight in the plantings along the wing walls. Bren and family, unlike Sara’s family, were bundled up in raincoats and hats to keep the fallout off their skin.
Neighbors Page 4
