Percy's Mission

by Jerry D. Young

  Sara was smiling at him, standing a couple of feet away. “Not you, too?” Percy said, frowning.

  “No, of course not,” Sara said softly. “I won’t add to your embarrassment.”

  “Good,” Percy said. He turned to go help Jock and Sara followed. “Oh,” he said, absently, “I need you to figure the value of my property. I need to pay taxes to the town. Figure it in gold.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  Calvin couldn’t find anything else wrong with any of the electronics. It looked like only the one scanner and the weather radio in the living room had been damaged. And the big screen TV. The radio in the kitchen seemed to be working, and it had been connected to a small wire antenna. None of their receivers worked very well without external antennas due to the shielding effect of the earth-sheltered construction. At least they’d had EMP protection on everything, even though not all of it had worked adequately.

  Nan met him in the kitchen a few minutes later and said, “It’s like we planned. The kitchen, this bathroom, and the pantry are showing no radiation at all for the moment. There aren’t any places where there isn’t some reduction, based on the CD V-717 remote meter. But, like the area from the front door toward the hallway, there are a few places where the protection factor is only a hundred or so, rather than much higher.”

  “We’re in good shape then. What was the outside reading?” Calvin asked.

  “Only fifty Röentgens/hr, but I swear I could see the needle creeping up as I watched it.”

  “Probably is. Let’s get a few things and set up for an extended stay in here.” He hugged her and said into her hair, “We’re going to be okay. We just have to hunker down and deal with it.”

  “I know,” she replied, slipping from his embrace. She gave him a quick kiss, and then hurried off to the bedroom, Calvin following quickly behind. It took only a few minutes to bring down enough clothing and toiletries to last for several days.

  It was several days and more before they ventured outside. It was two days after things started before the radiation peaked. Calvin assumed it was the massive fallout from the Dakota missile sites. That was about the same time that he and Nan began to cough. Calvin suddenly looked at Nan and said, “I forgot to put the filters in line with the HVAC system!”

  He ran for the garage and quickly diverted the air intake through the filter pack and hurried back to the kitchen.

  An anxious look on her face, Nan asked, “Do you think it’s poison gas?” She coughed to clear the burning sensation in her nose, mouth, and throat. The smell was fading.

  “No. No. It’s obviously gas, but it had a sulfurous smell. I’m thinking its fumes from Yellowstone or some other volcano. But it could have been poison gas, or lethal fumes from the volcano. I should have switched in the filters immediately. Actually, several of the really bad volcanic fumes are odorless. I could have killed us both!”

  “It’s all right, Cal,” Nan reassured him. “It worked out okay.” She added, lightly, “Just don’t do it again,” to try to make him feel a little better.

  “You can count on that. I guess we should eat.”

  They pretty much ate, read, and slept, with some time spent listening to the shortwave radio from time to time. They heard enough to know that the situation was essentially worldwide. There had been a nuclear war. And Yellowstone had blown. But there were plenty of survivors in some locations. Survivors like themselves.

  After a week of being closed in, they began to lose power from the solar cells. It was often cloudy with volcanic ash, which continued to fall steadily. Calvin surmised that the panels were probably covered with the ash. They had several LED flashlights and lamps, with plenty of batteries for them, so they had plenty of light. The stove was propane and they also had plenty of that.

  They were getting anxious to get out after the first fourteen days, but the radiation level was still too high. But it did rain and Calvin checked the battery charger the next day. They were getting current again to the batteries. Nan suggested they wait for a couple of days to let the batteries recharge before they began to draw power from them. Calvin agreed.

  “I think I should come with you,” Nan insisted on the twentieth day after the attack. “It will be safer if we both go out.”

  “But I don’t want you to get any more exposure than you absolutely have to.”

  “Well, is this trip absolutely necessary?”

  “I can’t say its life and death, no. But we… I need to check on some things for my own peace of mind.”

  “I have that same need, Calvin.”

  Calvin knew better than to press it any longer. Nan had a mind of her own, and when she was right, he had to admit it. They both put on Tyvek footed and hooded coveralls, put on respirators, gloves and boots. They taped the joints for each other, and then ventured outside. Everything had come through with flying colors. They took a little time to wash off the U500, after looking around the place. After that they opened the garage and brought out the A300 and the Toolcat. Both had buckets on them and were used to good effect to clear the parking area of its accumulation of ash.

  “That’s enough for today,” Calvin said. “Let’s go in the garage and decontaminate and wash the residue back under the garage door.”

  Nan had had enough. The sight of the new accumulation of ash, even after the rain had knocked much of it off the trees and down the ravines rather got to her. It was a drab, gray-brown day, even with the sun shining.

  But it rained again that night. When they checked the next morning the sky was still hazy, but without falling ash and the trees had been washed clean. They checked the survey meter. Down just a little from the day before. They could risk a quick trip to town. “We turn back at any sign of trouble,” Calvin said. “We can’t afford to be out of the shelter for more than four hours.

  After checking the U500 with the survey meter, they decided to wash it down again. There wasn’t much accumulation of fallout, but there were still fine particles of fallout coming down. It was low levels of radiation, but it was better to reduce the risk as much as possible.

  They didn’t get very far. And it wasn’t just the effort to clear the two foot accumulation of ash from the road with the loader bucked mounted on the Unimog. Only halfway down their drive and they came upon a truck they recognized. It was Herbert Anderson’s old truck. The truck was off the road. “Oh, no!” Nan said softly, seeing the two forms inside. The bed of the truck was piled high with cardboard boxes.

  It was obvious the two were dead, their bodies already decomposing. “What do we do, Calvin?” asked Nan. “We can’t just leave them here.”

  “No, we can’t. Let’s go back to the house and get something to wrap them in. Or wait. Let’s see what they might have in the truck. Every single manufactured item that exists is going to be precious from now until industry is back on its feet. We can’t afford to use anything we don’t have to, unless it’s for a very good reason.”

  “This is a pretty good reason,” Nan replied.

  “I know, honey. It is. But let’s just see what they have.” They went through the boxes in the truck. The rain had washed the fallout off the boxes. It had also ruined many of them. They contained mostly canned and packaged food, some of which was ruined from the exposure to the elements. It also looked like squirrels or birds had been into some of the packages. Most was salvageable.

  One large box contained sheets, blankets, and a folded up air bed. Nan stared at the contents. “They were coming out to stay with us,” she said.

  “From the looks of the ground under the truck they waited quite a while. Got caught in the worst of the fallout. I’m thinking Mr. Anderson had a heart attack on the way out and she just stayed with him until she died from the radiation.”

  “You’re probably right,” replied Nan. “I guess we can use the bedding to wrap them in, can’t we?”

  “Yes.” Calvin looked over at Nan. “I could use some help doing that, but I can bury them by myself.”


  Even through the faceplate of the respirator, Calvin could see Nan’s face go even paler than it already was. But she nodded and turned to get out the bedding.

  It was an ordeal, but they got the bodies out and wrapped up in the sheets and blankets. Nan stayed with Calvin as he took the truck back to the house and fired up the Toolcat. A few more minutes and they had the backhoe attached, and were on their way back to the Anderson’s truck. It was the work of only a few minutes to dig a large grave for the couple.

  Nan helped Calvin lower the bodies inside, but couldn’t watch when he refilled the hole. Silently they loaded the goods from the back of the pickup to the bed of the Toolcat. Nan climbed back into the passenger seat of the Toolcat and they went back home. The trip to town would have to wait a couple of days.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  Buddy wasn’t sure how long he held Charlene, but she finally quit crying. He held her for long moments more, and then gently disengaged himself. “We need to survey the place with the meter. Find out if we have any radiation leaks.”

  Charlene rubbed her face for a moment with both hands, and then nodded. “Thanks, Buddy. I’m sorry I lost it like that.”

  “Don’t worry about it. We were entitled, I think.”

  “What do you want me to do?” she asked.

  “Go ahead and get the things you brought up put away. I’m going to check the radiation.”

  Charlene took the few things she’d brought with her and put them away in the trailer’s second bedroom where she had stored the stuff she’d already brought up. She hesitated for a few moments, and then quickly began to move everything to the other bedroom. The one Buddy was planning on using. If he argued about it, she’d just have to convince him.

  With that thought, Charlene felt herself relaxing a little and she smiled. She stepped out of the rear door of the trailer and walked over to Buddy. “What’s it look like?”

  “Well, the berm and steel door are keeping most of the radiation out, but we need to avoid the area in front of the big door. Everywhere else is fine.”

  “What about the truck?” Charlene asked. “It’s parked right there, in front of the door.”

  Buddy shook his head. “The radiation won’t hurt it. But I think I’d better get everything out of it that we may need before the radiation level gets any higher.”

  He handed Charlene the survey meter and went to the truck to unload everything. When Charlene started to help he motioned her back to the safer area of the building. “I’ll take care of it. No need for you to increase your exposure any more than necessary.”

  As he worked, Buddy continued to talk. “I checked the power system. The EMP protection worked, or we wouldn’t have the lights. We could have dealt with it, but having power is going to make things so much easier. We won’t have to run the genset as long as the solar power and wind systems hold up.”

  Buddy frowned. “Maybe the fallout won’t build up too much. The solar panels are slanted pretty good.” Like her short crying jag had helped her, Buddy seemed to need to talk, at least for the moment.

  “We should be just fine, even if the photovoltaic panels can’t get enough sun. The battery bank is charged and we do still have the wind turbine and generator. We also have alternative sources of light and heat for cooking. Warmth shouldn’t be a problem. The temperature stabilized at fifty-five degrees after I closed the place up. Need a jacket or sweater, but it shouldn’t be too bad. We can turn the heat on for a bit when we take showers and all.”

  “What about nuclear winter?” Charlene quickly asked when Buddy fell silent.

  “I don’t think it will happen… Well… Not nuclear winter. But I’ve been seeing things about the Gulf Stream. If it fails, we’re going to have bad weather for sure. Not like it hasn’t been strange, anyway. I’m not sure whom to believe. The global warming people or the new ice age prophets. I just hope there weren’t too many nukes used. Like I said, I don’t think that would cause nuclear winter, but I’m worried about some of the nukes setting off volcanoes or something. A big volcano or two, on top of the stuff in the air from the nukes might just cause a cooling trend. I just don’t know.”

  “Well, we’ll weather whatever the weather does. You’ve got us pretty well set up here. How long could we stay in the shelter if we had to?”

  “Easily two months. But the stuff I’ve read, we should be able to go out after a couple of weeks after the last nukes go off in this area. We’ll just check with the meter every so often and when the radiation is down, we go out and take a look.

  “I wish now I’d put some kind of camera system in, but I was afraid the EMP would get it.” Finished with the unloading, Buddy walked over to the side of the structure, near where Charlene was standing. “We do have the periscope, such as it is.”

  Reaching down, Buddy grasped the handles of the hand-built device. It was made of heavy pipe and pipe fittings, quality mirrors, and throttle control cable. It was counterbalanced with lead weights suspended by steel cable. With a grunt he lifted it to viewing level and took a look around. Other than the particulates that were the fallout, everything looked normal. It was still bright and sunny.

  “Amazing,” he said, stepping away from the periscope so Charlene could take a look.

  She had the same take on it as Buddy. “But it looks normal, except for the fallout!”

  “That’s what I mean,” Buddy replied. “It just seems like it should be different, somehow.”

  Charlene took another look. “Yeah. It is weird. I don’t know what it should be, but a bright sunny day with dust in the air isn’t it.”

  “Exactly.” Buddy helped Charlene pull the periscope down and secure it. “Not much left to do, except maybe get a bite to eat, maybe read, and wait for the radiation to peak, then fall to a safe level.”

  Buddy didn’t say anything when they went into the trailer and he saw that Charlene had put her things in with his in the one bedroom.

  Their days were much as Buddy had said. Sleep, eat, read, watch DVDs. And check the survey meter several times every day.

  It was boring, but they got through the two weeks. Buddy checked the periscope, and everything looked the same. It was a clear, sunny day. There was no ash in the air. But when they began checking with the survey meter at the door, the level was just below one Röentgen per hour. The fallout had peaked at 988 Röentgens per hour.

  “We can go out for a few minutes,” Buddy said, looking at Charlene. “Just to check things. We’re going to need to stay sheltered most of the time for three months. But barring a renewed attack, we can at least get out and do some things.”

  “Three months! Oh, Buddy!” Charlene went into Buddy’s arms. He held her for a while, but she calmed herself. “I’m sorry, Buddy.” She managed a small smile. “It just I’ve never been through a nuclear war before and don’t quite know how to act.”

  “It’s all right,” Buddy said. “I’m not too thrilled with the situation, myself. But I plan to live to a ripe old age, and that means avoiding increasing the risk of cancer any more than I have to.”

  “I’ll cope. As long as you’re willing to hold me from time to time.”

  A soft look came over Buddy’s face. “You know I will.” He took her in his arms again and kissed her.

  Then, stepping back, he added, “Let’s at least go take a look around. And I want you armed, just in case.”

  Charlene nodded. One of the things they’d done to pass the time was firearms training for Charlene. Buddy was no great shot, but he knew the basics and taught them to Charlene over the two weeks. They were able to shoot the pellet pistol and rifle Buddy had, to familiarize her with shooting. One of the things they’d do once they were outside was get a bit of target practice, with the firearms, so Charlene would be comfortable with them.

  Buddy was by no means a serious gun collector, nor had he stocked up on “survival” weapons. He had an old M1 Garand his father had picked up, along with the Colt 1911A1 .45 ACP that had belonged to
his father as well.

  In addition, he owned a Marlin 336 .30/30 for deer hunting; Remington 870 12 gauge pump shotgun for upland birds and waterfowl; a Ruger 10/22 .22 rifle and a Ruger Mark II .22 pistol for small game and for fun; and a Beretta Tomcat pocket pistol in .32 ACP. And because he once thought about getting into Cowboy Action Shooting, he’d bought a cowboy model Marlin 1895 .45-70, the Stoeger 12 gauge Coach gun, a Marlin 1894 in .45 Long Colt, and two Ruger New Model Blackhawk convertibles chambered for .45 LC and .45 ACP, along with an ADC .45 LC double barreled derringer.

  His only real “survival” related firearms purchases were his “bug-out” rifle, a Savage 99A in .308 with Williams peep sight, a thoroughly modern Glock 21 in .45 ACP, and a ten round magazine extension for the 870 pump.