Dust (21 page)

“Your wife?”

“I’m not married. I divorced when ... ” Tanner chuckled. “Simon, my youngest was three. I never remarried.” Tanner turned slightly to face me. “Jo, it felt really good to see healthy kids. Those kids are doing great. You’ve done an awesome job through all this. In fact ... the condition of everyone in your shelter is remarkable.”

“Come on.” I shook my head sadly. “Tammy and Nicky. They ... they aren’t doing awesome.”

“From what Craig told me about Tammy. She hasn’t been here much, has she?” Tanner questioned, bringing his face a little closer to mine. “And Nicky, she wasn’t thinking.”

“Neither were we,” I said. “Why didn’t I stop her? I knew she was fooling around with the ash. I should have thought.”

“You’re not responsible for Nicky. You’re not. I don’t think you realize the extent of how far beyond everyone else you people are. Just to see you guys, says it all. I knew the day I saw you. The day I saw Burke. You weren’t like the others out here. You weren’t wandering around, looking for help, causing your death. You guys are smart. The fact that you still spend most of your time in the shelter, tells a lot.”

“Better safe than sorry.” I spoke soft. “I guess I always thought, staying below most of the time early on, would be a preventive medicine. Less exposure, no matter how minimal the radiation levels.”

“And the food. Water. You guys are staying clean. That in itself is preventive medicine. I’m impressed and ... ” Tanner shifted his eyes toward the door of the shelter, then returned to looking at me. He dropped his voice. “I overheard what Burke said about me.”

“Tanner ... ”

“No.” He shook his head with a partial smile. “I’d like to answer his question.” He hesitated, taking in a deep breath. “In this world, you can’t be alone anymore. You can ... but it isn’t wise. You have to think ahead. I wasn’t thinking ahead until I met you. You guys have it together. You, Jo, despite all that you’ve been through ... you have it together. I don’t have a gain, Jo. I just have no one, and no where else to go.”

Tanner spoke more though the look in his eyes than he did through his words. I saw that as I studied his face. Reaching out, I laid my hand over his and gently gripped his fingers.

Burke’s presence and announcing of, “Coffee’s done,” startled me and made me jerk my hand away as if I were doing something wrong.

“Thanks.” I accepted the coffee.

Burke handed a cup to Tanner, then he took a seat and joined us. “So, Tanner. You’re ... ”

What Burke started to ask at that second, I didn’t know. I was consumed with my coffee and how wonderful it tasted. I moaned out, sipped again, and ached out my pleasure even louder with an, ‘oh, my God.’

“Jo.” Burke snapped.

“Huh?” I peered over my brim to see them staring at me. “Sorry. It’s good.”

Tanner laughed.

Burke didn’t. “Anyway,” he continued. “What do you know about it?”

I was lost. I hoped Tanner would give some inkling of what was asked of him. He did.

“The barricades?” Tanner nodded. “I guess I know enough. What do you need to know?”

“Biggest question,” Burke said. “Why? Why are we locked down and stuck in the city.”

“Tanner?” I questioned. “Does that mean it’s only us, or only a few cities were hit?”

“No.” Tanner shook his head. “I wish. But, no. To answer your question, Burke. There are a lot of reasons for the barricade. Not just to keep you in here. Sure, the government is trying to get a grip. Trying to keep people from blast areas from going to areas unscathed. Prevent looting, squatting. You know. But, by keeping you here, keeps you safe in another way.”

“How so?” Burke asked.

“Disease,” Tanner answered. “People are dying in the blast areas. Yeah. Burns. Radiation sickness, and a lot of other things. But outside of the major blast areas, to be blunt, people are dying from stupidity. They didn’t see the damage, so they didn’t fear the damage. They went outside when they should have stayed in. They welcome the sunlight when they should have avoided it. They drank the water. If healthy people go to those areas, they put themselves at risk.”

“Well, how long do you think before they die?” Burke asked. “Because we have plans. We have a piece of land a good distance from here. Well water. A small lake. Good shelter. Supplies we took there. I want to move us out.”

“When?” Tanner asked.

“I’d like to move us now. But I promised Jo we’d give it six more days to see if Mona shows up.”

“She’s in Tulsa,” I said.

“She’s toast.” Burke commented.

“Tanner?” I asked. “What do you think?”

Tanner looked at me, his mouth opened as if he were going to say something, but he didn’t. Instead, he focused on Burke. “Can I tell you something, Burke?”

“By all means.” Burke replied.

“You can’t go. Don’t even try. Hang tight ten or twelve days. Then go. In my opinion the blockades won’t be there, because they won’t be going back up.”

“Whoa. Hold on.” Burke lifted his hand. “Going back up? You make it sound as if they are taking them down.”

“They are,” Tanner said. “For the exact same reason I’m telling you to stay put. And my other motive for coming to talk to Jo tonight.”

“Tanner?” I looked at him. “Is something going on?”

After nodding, Tanner sipped his coffee then began his story, “Today, they called us together. Doctors. Nurses. Military personnel who were in charge and told us that in a minimal of four days, no longer than six, the rescue station shuts down. Closes. We’re supposed to return to post after several days, but who knows if there will be a post to return to.”

“Wait a minute.” I was in desperate need of clarifications. It made absolutely no sense to me. Why give help only to take it away? Tanner held answers. “The rescue station is closing down. But not for good? What about the people already there?”

“We stopped taking patients at six this evening. We’re holding people off. In all honesty, Jo, I don’t think the ones at the station will survive. The ones that can survive. We’re supposed to send them on their way, on their own with instructions.”

“To do what?” I asked.

Tanner paused. “Dig in.”

My eyes closed. ”Oh, my God.”

Burke’s heavy exhale conveyed his concern. “We’re getting hit again.”

“Yes,” Tanner answered. “But not in the way that you think. You see, there’s a cloud, a bad one, heading this way. Moving across the globe. Sometimes it is stalemate because of weather conditions, sometimes it moves with more speed. The good news is, it loses potency with distance. The bad news is, when it reaches here, it won’t have lost enough potency. You think you saw gray skies. You think you felt the temperature drop? What we experienced is nothing compared to what is coming.”

More than Tanner realized, I grasped what he said. “The theoretical nuclear winter.”

“Yep,” Tanner said. “It’s about to arrive and arrive with a vengeance.”

Burke slowly shook his head. “I’m lost. What is a nuclear winter?”

I explained, “I told you this before. It’s when the dust and debris blocks out the sun.”

Tanner added, “Only it holds everything in. Air tight. The cold. The radiation. It’s packed with radioactive material.”

“And this is coming our way?” Burke asked. “How do we know?”

“What’s left of the Army’s scientific community has been tracking it.” Tanner answered. “Watching, keeping track as it moves, the effects it has. I have a list they gave us that has the data of its speed, what it did where, and so forth. I can give it to you tomorrow if you’d like.”

I nodded. “Yes, I would. Very much so.”

Burke grunted. “Why?”

“Why?” I chuckled some. “So I can see what we can expect, that’s why.”

“She’s right,” Tanner said. “Knowing what it did helps to know what it will do.”

“What will it do?” Burke questioned. “And when?”

“When? Four, five days.” Tanner shrugged. He then proceeded to explain in a frightening ‘matter of fact’ manner. “For certain, we’ll have about a twelve hour window of a warning. It will push through a preliminary cold front. The temperature will drop suddenly. Ten, twenty degrees. Right now, our radiation readouts bounce between one rad per hour and four, depending on the winds. No more than four. When this warning hits, the levels will rise to about ten rads, and increase per hour. By the time the cloud is here full force, you will see the rad levels soar to about fifty per hour, and the temperature will pummel at least another thirty degrees.”

The crackling fire was the only sound in the immediate moments following Tanner’s explanation. Then at last, a little frightened, I spoke up.

“What about the people who don’t know?” I queried.

“If they aren’t prepared, or smart, more than likely, Jo ... ” Tanner hesitated. “If the radiation doesn’t kill them, the temperature will.”

Hearing that made it physically impossible to swallow. My lips puckered in my attempt. “What about us?”

My question seemed to amuse Tanner. He huffed a small laugh. “I haven’t a doubt, you guys will be just fine.” He winked.

I breathed out slowly, with a nod to my head. “OK. And you know what? We’ll have Craig do a radio call. If someone is listening, we can get the word out.”

Burke agreed, “That’s fair. But we wait until it’s close. OK? The last thing we want is people panicking, and going fuckin’ nuts over this.” He shifted some to face Tanner. “Why is this happening now? I can’t believe it’s taking—it’ll be—three weeks for this cloud to reach us. What? Is it starting from Europe and circling the globe?”

“No.” Tanner shook his head. “It’s starting from the pacific ... California. And it isn’t taking two weeks. The war didn’t end two weeks ago. It ended four days ago.”

My immediate response to his words came in the form of a quiet and airy laugh. Tanner had to be joking, or at the very least, misinformed. In the resultant silence he looked at me. I saw it in his eyes.

He was serious.

Tanner continued, “Without getting into who started what, I’ll just tell you, it began with a Mideast exchange that quickly escalated to Europe. I mean within hours. By the time word reached the states, pre-planted nuclear devices had exploded and others were airborne.”

“That would mean ICBMs.” I said in shock, shaking my head. “That can’t be. Intercontinental ballistic missiles? There are very few countries that have that technology, let alone the payload to hit each city with two or three bombs. None of our enemies. Was it accidental? Russia?”

“Nope.” Tanner shook his head. “Unbeknown to us, an unholy union had been formed between Israel and China. They hid behind a facade of peace treaties, trade laws, and brotherhood dedication to the United States. When all the while, for years it had been in the works. You can say it was a modern Blitzkrieg, with a devastating impact. They hit strategically across our country, singling out cities here and there on the west coast; bombarding the east coast pretty much into annihilation. Then ... four days after the initial strike.” He paused. “Four-hundred-thousand Chinamen stormed our beach. Straight up and down the west coast. They just ... ” He released a single chuckle. “Marched upon our soil. We hadn’t the manpower to stop them.” Tanner spoke almost as if in a sad shock. “Damn near made it across Nevada, until we said enough is enough. The US unleashed a ‘no holds barred’ full-scale nuclear attack, not only against China and Israel … but on our own soil as well. We had a choice. Lose it all, or lose twenty percent. So ... we blew them back home. The result of all that ... is on its way.” Lowering his head some, Tanner brought his hand to his mouth, closed his eyes, and breathed heavily into his palm.