Authors: Luke Rhinehart
The voice over the shortwave radio was that of the ham radio operator from eastern Tennessee to whom Neil had last listened the evening the war started.
`Henry Tickney says his geiger counter shows it's up to three roetgens in his soybean fields which isn't healthy for either him or his beans, but supposedly it'll drop off each day unless we get more. Like most of us Henry says he only goes out for a half hour a day.
`Three new shelters. were started yesterday and one's already finished. Eight people moved in with enough food for two weeks. We put in Jesse and Marge Williams and their two kids, Gor and Hilda Lafson and their son Leo, and the Barletts' sick girl, Tina. The Williams run the Exxon station east of town and are sick and don't have anything they can do, and the Lafsons paid for all the material and labour on the shelter. Like I said, the Williams and Tina Barlett are pretty sick from the radiation and we figure they need the protection. 'Course I guess we all do.
`Martha Peterson died yesterday. After her sons went away we couldn't get her to stay in the cellar.
`The Linkletters and Potts moved south today, using the I inkletters' team of workhorses and a wagon Tim built out of an old truck flatbed. They're the sixth and seventh families to leave. Most all of the young people are gone, ofcourse. Most of the old people have chosen to stay. We don't know whether we'll make it or not, but most of us decided it'd be better to die here than live in those camps they've set up in northern Louisiana and Arkansas. I suppose if we had kids it might be different. That's why we help those who feel they have to go.
Ìt's kind of sad, though. You know you'll never see each other again. The people leaving feel kind of like traitors and the people staying feel kind of like fools . Still, we do what we got to do . .
After the channel went dead Neil turned off the set and continued to sit in the darkness of his aft cabin. He became aware of the faint glow of his wristwatch lying at the base of the radio. It was almost midnight. They were dying in east Tennessee, what? - perhaps six or seven hundred miles away. Not even that far.
Sighing, he turned the set back on, adjusted the earphones and began a slow sweep of the ham frequencies. The first voice he brought in reported increased radioactive fallout and radiation sickness in southern Mississippi, with thousands fleeing out into the Gulf of Mexico. Military authority had
ceased to exist; soldiers as well as civilians were fleeing, stealing boats, commandeering barges, using helicopters to get away. The voice speculated that west to New Orleans and Galveston there were few survivors. Those fleeing east across the Florida panhandle would probably be overtaken by the lethal fallout. He mentioned some towns whose names Neil didn't recognize, but when he checked his small atlas he concluded the broadcast was from somewhere less than a hundred miles east of Pensacola, Florida, on the Florida panhandle.
Neil moved the dial on, bringing in a ship, the Athena, three hundred miles out of Boston, asking for medical advice on the treatment of radiation sickness. He brought in a station in Bermuda warning of starvation facing the islanders there. Then his ear caught 'Raleigh, North Carolina' on a frequency filled with static, and he tried to bring it in more clearly. Raleigh was about two hundred miles west of Morehead City. The voice, clearer now, a woman's with a strong southern accent, was announcing that she was taking over for her husband, who was sick but who wanted her to keep up his daily reports. The radioactive fallout in the last day had increased tenfold, and now everyone was trying to stay below ground. Those who ventured out more than half an hour took sick quickly. Those who stayed in cellars or shelters did better. The ground was getting covered with ash, thick, black, ugly. They were drinking only stored water, but most had only a limited supply. Electric pumps could no longer be used. They couldn't figure why the fallout was so great, where it was coming from, and it was scary. They hoped it would stop raining soon.
When Neil switched off the radio this time he was trembling with a great, deep dread, almost a hopelessness. They were all doomed. Shelters, fleeing to sea, joining the Army, being in the Navy, all seemed equally futile.
No, that was a lie. He knew it was a lie, and knowing that
all people were not equally doomed frightened him, covered the heavy dread with a sharp layer of fear. Safety lay far to the south and out to sea. He knew that, could see that for a certainty now. Morehead City, bucolic, innocent, unimportant Morehead City, was doomed. In a few days it would be overtaken by the fallout. So too with the rest of the east coast. But the ocean and a run to the south represented hope for life, for him, for Jeanne, for Frank, for 01ly, for all of his remaining friends. Only out there, where the fallout was swallowed by the insatiable sea, was there hope for survival, and he knew it was up to him to get them all to act, and to act now. The Army was lying. There was no safety left on land.
The decision made, he stood up, shut down the radio carefully, disconnected the batteries, and went up on deck. Captain Olly was sitting in the darkness of the wheelhouse talking in a lively monologue to the ever-quiet Conrad Macklin. Olly stopped talking when Neil appeared.
Ì'm taking Vagabond back out to sea,' he announced quietly after sitting down opposite the old man.
`Good,' Captain Olly replied. 'Been wonderin' how long it would take you.'
Neil turned to Macklin.
`To escape out the inlet we'll need another boat to act as decoy,' he said. 'A boat with just enough fuel to get to the inlet and create a diversion. I want you to locate one, devise a plan for stealing it, and, when the time comes, steal it.'
Macklin stared back at Neil. 'You want me to be on one boat while you and the rest are sailing out the inlet on this?' he asked, scowling.
Òne of us will be with you,' Neil answered. 'And, if possible, create a plan that doesn't necessitate your hitting or killing anyone.'
Ìf possible?' Macklin said with a sneer.
Òlly, about how many gallons of diesel fuel do you figure we'll need to get two boats out into the ocean?'
Ìt's three miles from here?' Olly asked.
`Yes,' Neil answered.
`Six or seven.'
`That's what I was afraid of,' Neil went on. 'Since they took all but five gallons of our fuel this afternoon we'll need more. Macklin, keep an eye open for another three gallons of fuel. Or more.'
`Like everyone else in the world,' Macklin commented. Neil, staring past Captain Olly with his eyes half-closed in concentration, ignored the comment.
`We leave tomorrow night at ten,' he finally said. `Who's coming with us?' Macklin asked.
`We'll see,' said Neil, and he rose to return to his aft cabin to sleep. 12
Neil arrived at the refugee centre and located Frank at one o'clock the next afternoon. As he moved through the halls he became distressingly aware that he was entering a little world that, no matter how dislocated, was permitting people to assume that they and this little world could continue to exist. This was a centre where people came to be safe and to be taken care of, and those in the halls had the look of men and women who saw danger as something they had survived in the past rather than something that might still be looming over them.
Neil himself was anxious and tense. He strode down the hall with the feeling that every moment they delayed might be fatal, that even now lethal clouds of radioactivity might be only hours away.
Frank was in the old principal's office supervising the location of some of the refugees. A harried-looking Army lieutenant was standing behind Frank looking alternately commanding and bewildered. As Neil paused in the doorway he watched people come up to Frank for instructions, saw him examine the chart on the desk before him and then send the person running off to perform some duty, Frank carefully putting a chalk mark on the chart.
Neil pushed his way through three or four people and stood in front of the desk. Frank looked up abstractedly as at an old college friend appearing out of place and unexpectedly.
`Fallout is approaching,' Neil said as quietly and unemotionally as he could. 'We've got to leave, sail - go south. You and Jeanne have got to come.'
Frank emerged from his abstracted state and looked at Neil with a tired frown. 'You're running?' he asked.
Neil flinched. 'Everyone in Morehead City will probably have to relocate,' he replied, aware of the half-dozen faces watching him attentively.
`Says who?' Frank asked.
`Frank, let's talk this over in private,' Neil appealed. `Look, mister,' the Army lieutenant cut in abruptly. 'If
there's danger to this area the Army will let people know.' Neil looked up at the man coldly. 'You'll be lucky if they let
you know,' he said.
`You think we should all evacuate Morehead City?' Frank asked. He seemed heavy, as if the thought of moving again depressed him.
`Yes. Everyone.'
The crowd around the desk began murmuring.
`No one goes nowhere,' the stubby lieutenant burst in a second time, 'unless the Army says so.'
want you to help me save Jeanne and her children,' Neil went on desperately, ignoring the lieutenant.
Ànother ocean voyage?' Frank asked. He gazed at Neil a moment more and then turned to look at the refugees around the desk who were looking at him as if for a verdict on their fate. Then he peered sullenly down at his chart. 'It's up to Jeanne,' he said in a low, husky voice.
`Frank, please.'
`No one's going anywhere,' the lieutenant said.
Neil found Jeanne working alone in a small room with a dozen elderly women. She was serving them cups of water and giving them instructions on the routine of the camp, the location of the bathrooms and so on. She looked tired, her hair, tied back in a bun, was damp with perspiration. She had on jeans and a green sweatshirt. Surprised and smiling, she came out into the hall with him.
`What's the matter?' she asked, sensing his urgency.
`There's massive fallout coming,' he said in a low voice. `We're sailing out the inlet tonight. You, Lisa and Skip must come.'
As she looked up at him he could see the fear and uncertainty in her eyes. She slowly shook her head. Ì ... can't believe it,' she said.
Jeanne, it's a life or death decision. No one in this camp will be alive in another two weeks.'
`You . . . Isn't it illegal for you and Jim to leave?' Èverything is now illegal except staying here and dying.' `How are you going to get past the Coast Guard?'
Ì don't know,' he continued in a whisper as two women
passed by. l just know we have to do it.'
`But . . .' she began, gazing down the hall after the women as if for help. 'Why . . . tonight?'
`Because the sword may fall at any moment.'
Ìf fallout's coming, they'll warn us, won't they?' she asked him next, resisting the decision that would force her to run again. 'They'll bus us south, or train.'
Neil grabbed her fiercely.
`They won't,' he hissed at her. 'There are no buses or trains except for the Army.'
Òh, Neil,' she said, twisting in his grasp.
`Don't you trust me?' he said sharply, still holding her. 'Do you think I'm lying to you?'
She searched his face for certainty and saw with a shock that if she didn't leave she would die.
Òh, Neil, of course I trust you,' she said, suddenly trembling.
`Then come,' said Neil with relief, taking her arm. 'Let's get the others.'
Together they went to get Frank and then the three of them began walking back to Jeanne's room to get Lisa and Skip.
`What about Jim?' Jeanne asked Neil as they hurried along.
`We'll get him,' Neil answered.
-`Tony? Seth?' she asked.
Ìf they want to come.'
`How about Elaine?' Frank asked. 'She's here in the building.'
`No,' Neil said firmly. 'I'm exercising triage. Having her on the boat might mean that sooner or later someone else might have to die.'
`You don't know that,' Frank said.
`No, I don't. But she can't come.'
`There's another woman who wants to join us,' Jeanne interrupted as they began walking again.
`No. No one else,' Neil replied promptly, striding on. `But I promised her . .
`No,' Neil repeated as they entered the third grade classroom. Lisa and Skip looked up at their mother. 'Where's your suitcase?'
Ìt was stolen,' Jeanne replied as she went to Skip and gave him a hug. 'Get our stuff together, Lisa, we're going back to the boat.'
`What about Jim?' Lisa asked, not moving.
`We'll get him,' Neil said.
`Go!' Jeanne said sharply to Lisa, who hurried away to where she had been reading. '
Neil, you must speak to this woman,' Jeanne added.
`No more,' said Neil. 'Come on, let's get going.'
But as the five of them were leaving, Neil's path was blocked by the small, defiant figure of Katya.
Ì can sail, sew, cook, and I'm tough,' she said without introduction. 'I want to go with you.'
`We're overloaded,' Neil replied automatically, looking down at her, stopped by her almost comical fierceness. `But Neil . . .' Jeanne began from beside him. Ì weigh a hundred and six pounds,' Katya countered. `Pound for pound I'll be the best crew member you've ever had.'
Neil smiled in spite of himself, then shook his head. `Look ... we simply can't begin to take any stranger who
wants to join us,' he said. 'If you're tough you'll understand that.'
Ì understand that,' she replied. Tut you need another woman aboard. Jeanne can't handle everything expected of a woman.'
Neil hesitated, thinking of Jeanne's seasickness, of Elaine's not going with them. Ì can sail, I can sew, I can cook, and I can fuck,' Katya went on firmly, looking Neil in the eye.
À Renaissance woman,' he murmured, wishing she hadn't alluded to her sexuality, since he knew he'd already made up his mind when Katya had reminded him that Jeanne needed another woman's help.
Àll right,' he said firmly. 'Jeanne needs you; therefore, we need you.'
`Thank you,' she said, reaching up on tiptoe to kiss him quickly on the lips. Tut try to remember that it's your first three skills we're taking you for and not the fourth,