Dust (6 page)

Those were my thoughts.

And those were also my thoughts as I prepared to be my own rescue party and go after Matty.

Once again the thrift store donation bags served a big purpose. Rummaging through them, I sought clothing that I could layer upon me. An old pair of jeans, a little tight in the waist, were covered by two pairs of sweatpants. I wore three shirts as well. Sam’s old work boots were my footgear, and gardening gloves covered my hands. With the exception of my sunglasses and the scarf for my nose and mouth, I was ready to go.

Davy looked nervous. He really did. Holding Simon, I swore I could read his mind. He didn’t want me to go. For some reason my son felt he was the better one. Faster, as he put it. But my argument to that was my age. Resistance to radiation poisoning was stronger the older an individual was, and that was a medically proven fact.

I had befriended a doctor through my frequent visits to the coffee shop. A lovely woman named Toni. Often confused, always seeking someone to talk to, Toni enjoyed speaking about anything as long as it didn’t depend on her diagnosing some bizarre illness. She wasn’t much into the ‘apocalypse’ topic at first, but her attention piqued as time moved on. She transferred to Chicago about three months before the attack and we kept in continual contact. Before she left, she gave me a gift. Something she knew I had been looking for. Usually people exchange cards, pictures, anything personal. But Toni, she handed me life. Her words to me were, ‘I hope you never need to use this. But won’t it be neat to add to your survival collection?’

The gift—a potassium iodide equivalent. A medical agent used in combating the effects of radiation poisoning. One would have thought she handed me a million dollars when she gave me the twenty-four doses. To me, it was worth more. She instructed caution in taking too much, stating that a dose should be taken immediately after the attack--half a dose for children. Then another dose should be taken following exposure to radiation, or prior to. End of instructions.

All three of us had taken our dose with our first meal in the shelter and I had just taken my second dose in preparation to get Matty.

Sunglasses in hand, I had kissed the boys. I debated in my mind whether to give them the ‘If I don’t return’ speech, but opted against it. I was positive I would return and I would return in one hour. If I failed in getting Matty that try, I would venture out again.

Turning from the boys to the steps. I froze. We all heard it. A loud ‘bang’ rattled the ceiling as if something above us had fallen.

“Mom?” Davy whispered out.

My hand shot to Davy’s mouth covering it, and bodily I rushed into my son, gripping him and Simon then moving them away from the stairs and further into the basement.

Our eyes all looked to the ceiling and at the shuffling noise. I released Davy and edged my way silently to under the stairs where I kept the shovel. At that moment I wished I would have listened to Burke and had a better means of protection. I didn’t. The shovel was my defense, and with a rapidly beating heart, I grabbed it.

Someone was definitely upstairs. Was it a looter? A friend? Rescue workers?

Footsteps.

I swallowed.

“Jo!” he called out.

The shovel dropped from my hand and clunked hard on the ground. “Sam!” I shrieked and dove for the steps. “Down here! We’re down here!” No sooner did I reach the bottom of the stairs, the basement door opened.

“I’m not alone,” Sam said.

The awkward, slanted ceiling, inhibited me from seeing Sam entirely. But I did see his black shoes as he stepped through the door. I could barely speak through my excited breaths. “That’s OK, we’ve got room.”

Sam descended another step. His black work pants were filthy, and as his knees came into view, I could see a blanket or something was draped over him. “Jo, I don’t want to come all the way down. I’m covered. I wanna change. But I wanna give you something.”

“Sam? What are you talking ... ”

Sam emerged into view and I stopped speaking and moving. I also swore that I stopped all life functions. Sam was home, but he wasn’t home alone. In his arms tight, covered by a blanket was ... Matty.

***

Dan Leonard worked with Sam at the hotel. In my opinion, Dan was a sleazy, whining, sniveling, pompous princess who I wasn’t really fond of. So how in the world did he end up with Sam at my shelter? His being there broke my firm rule that I’d never let anyone in my shelter that I didn’t like. After all, a nuclear disaster would be tough enough without having to deal with the emotional distress of irritating people.

But there he was in my basement, devouring a can of potted meat, nibbling on a carrot. Clothes changed, hardly dirty, Dan appeared barely unscathed. That bothered me. However, he did tote with him two large cans of fruit cocktail as a contribution.

Sam was another story.

Like me, Sam’s primary focus was on Matty. He too knew she was in school, and made that his goal. He informed me that the school was—for the most part—still intact. The windows were busted, the entranceway, and part of the gymnasium had fallen, but the strong brick structure was stable. He found Matty with ease, but his mission did not stop there.

Mr. Shep, the principal was indeed alive and in charge of the surviving kids. Over two hundred Sam estimated. All of which huddled in the halls and around the basement of the school. Shep told Sam they received about an eight-minute warning, enough to get the kids below, but not enough for Mike the janitor to bring all the food to the basement. In short, they were on the last of supplies. Shep couldn’t send the kids away, and was disheartened but not surprised—according to Sam—that there weren’t any rescue stations. Still, the fact remained, the children needed fed. So Sam, Mr. Shep and about four other males ventured out to the grocer not far from the school. Then after that, Sam brought Matty home.

The problem was. From the time Sam left his work, until the time he arrived home, hours had passed. Hours of exposure.

I gave Sam a dose of potassium iodide. But an unsettling feeling swept over me when I looked at him. He looked worn. The dirt failed to wash from his face, and black marks streaked his skin. Was he lying when he told me he felt fine? I hoped not.

I watched Sam interact happily with Simon, Davy and Matty. Matty was quiet. A smart girl who knew exactly what was going on. I guessed she would eventually open up to me and talk. But at that moment, she was just quiet.

An abrasion graced the top of Sam’s head. It looked fresh; a glaze of fresh blood decorated it. But it wasn’t new, not at all. Sam received that injury when the bombs arrived. He was working in the west wing of the hotel. The grand ball room. Preparing it for some primary election party that was supposed to take place that evening. There was him and Brenda and a handful of other catering workers. They, like us, had all of thirty seconds to take cover. Not enough time to get out of that wing, let alone get below. Sam told of how they shot for the back hall, but the west wing, totally encased with windows, just erupted. No heat. No fire. Just a blast of air that smashed the windows like potato chips and left the wing a mound of matchstick rubble. In an instant, nothing was left of that wing.

Sam found himself outside, head bleeding. He had been tossed a bit of a distance and that made it hard to see what remained of the hotel, so Sam sought the best shelter he could.

He told of how he etched his way into a pocket no bigger than three feet, barricading himself in with pieces of a door and concrete. He had every intention of waiting only twenty-four hours, but he passed out. Sam said he had no idea how long he slept—an after effect of the head injury. He was conscious on and off, drifted with thoughts, and didn’t awake fully until he heard Ernie’s voice.

Ernie was another co-worker. A cook in the kitchen. It had taken Ernie and the others, days to dig out. But before Ernie headed home to his family, food in arms, he called out to see if anyone needed help.

Sam heard and snapped to. How he had survived, Sam really didn’t know. But by looking at Sam, knowing what all he went through, to me, his ‘surviving’ was still in a debatable state.

Now Dan was another story. He claimed he got locked in the freezer when the bombs fell. He claimed it took an entire day to hear Ernie’s voice, and when he did, he pounded for help. I think he locked himself in that freezer and pretended not to hear anyone just so he didn’t have to share his food.

“Ernie was unbelievable,” Dan told his story as we sat around in a circle. “Really. After he found me, he searched for others. Sam, did you know, before he helped you, he had dug out six people that had been trapped in the rubble outside?”

“No.” Sam shook his head. “I didn’t know that.”

“Did you help?” I asked, knowing full well the answer.

“Nope, wasn’t going to either. I know about radiation. By doing that, Ernie exposed himself quite a bit. He’ll be dead in a week.”

“Oh, my God.” I was offended at his callousness.

Dan shrugged. “Think about it. All for what? Those people were dying anyhow.”

I was going to argue, but in some way, Dan brought up a valid point.

“Was it bad out there, guys? Could you see the city?” I quizzed.

Sam shook his head. “No. Dust and smoke was too thick.”

“It’s bad.” Dan replied in a ‘know it all’ way. “There were three mushroom clouds.”

Cynically, I snapped at him, “Oh, how do you know? You were hiding in a freezer.”

“I was not hiding, I was trapped, and I know. I heard someone say.”

“You’re full of shit. Three mushrooms.” I shook my head in disbelief. “Such an idiot.”

Sam’s voice cracked as he intervened. “He’s right.” He slowly stood up and walked a few feet away.

“Sam?” I stood as well. “How do you know?"

“I saw.” Sam’s head was down, but his eyes lifted. “I saw. After the blast. I got up. I looked. God, Jo.” He closed his eyes briefly. “It was the scariest thing I ever saw in my life. Like the movies. Three of them. Still glowing. Still orange. Burning an image right there in the sky.”

“No. Sam. Maybe you made a mistake. Maybe you weren’t seeing right.”

Sam held up three fingers. “Three.”

In my shock, my hand covered my mouth and I stumbled back. It seemed unreal. The absurdity of three nuclear weapons pummeling the soil of my hometown stabbed me with fear, sadness and anger. Three? Wasn’t one enough to do the damage? The optimism that our attack was one of a few isolated incidents joined my hope in spiraling to despair. Singular bombs here and there could’ve been construed as strategic hits to cripple a nation. But three bombs on one city? Someone out there wasn’t just seeking to declare war on the United States. To cripple, disrupt and dishearten. Someone out there was seeking total ... annihilation.

***

Finally I had let go of the mind argument I had with myself over how the war ended up on American soil. I was the type of person that had to know everything. The war situation bugged me. A dozen different scenarios of how it happened went through my mind, but the problem was, I could guess forever, there was no one to confirm whether I was right or wrong. Not at least while we were in the shelter.

The night called to me in a different manner than it had done previously. I had positively no urge to sleep. None. I was fully aware of the reasons for wanting to play watchdog while everyone slept. Dan played a big part in that. Did I think he was going to awaken and slaughter us all while we slept? No. Dan didn’t have the guts. He was a schizophrenic personality. Nervous and cocky all in the same breath if that was possible. And he was a coward in the worst way. I feared more of him stealing our food than anything else. I didn’t figure on Dan staying with us too long. He showed no indication of getting ill. I wagered more on the fact that I would unnerve him to the point he left, or he’d unravel so much he’d kill himself.

I promised myself I wouldn’t dwell on Dan, or have him be the reason I lost my cool. My energy deserved to be elsewhere. Plus, I was giving far too much credit to Dan for my staying up. He wasn’t the main reason. Gratefulness was. Sam and Matty were back. We, as a family unit, were intact.