“No,” she said, snuggling in close to him. His warm, hard body made her feel safe, like the world was a good place. “Can’t we pretend everything is all right just for a little while longer?”
“I’ve pretended far too long,” Red said. “If we don’t face what’s coming, who will?”
“Spoil-sport.” She sighed heavily. Reluctantly, she motioned for him to drop the contents of the envelope into her lap. Pages of hand-written instructions fell out, along with a map, blueprints and half a dozen atomic watches counting down to September 18th.
“A Doomsday watch,” Elizabeth said, displaying one over her wrist as if she was the host of QVC. “Every girl’s must-have accessory.”
Red laughed. She strapped it onto his wrist, then strapped another one onto her own. She let her finger glide over the general’s hand-written notes. “Says here that the cloaker can’t hide the energy caused by opening the bunker doors; the Celeruns will be able to detect that. Which means we shouldn’t open the doors until we’re ready to stay down there for…” she could barely choke out the words. “…for the rest of our lives.”
“That’s no good,” Red said. “I need to make sure Galatians Bunker is everything the general says it is before I bring the whole town there.”
For hours they stayed in bed pouring over the instructions, pointing out important stuff to one another as they read along.
“The main entrance is huge. It leads to a spiral truck ramp that goes all the way to the bottom floor of the bunker. We could drive a busload of people down it—no problem,” Red pointed out. “The secondary exit is two miles away. It’s basically just a ladder going down a metal tube.”
“The notes say the key will only turn once,” Elizabeth said. “Five bunkers, scattered, across the world must turn their keys at the same time, but there’s a three minute window to allow for slight time variances. Once the key is turned, the bunker doors seal. They cannot be opened again without following a whole slew of instructions and overrides.”
“This gets better and better.” Red rolled his eyes and shook his head. “How am I going to convince the town to prepare for Doomsday when everything seems to be going so well?”
Elizabeth knelt on the bed behind Red to massage his shoulders. She could feel the tension building in them like stretched rubber bands. As much as she struggled to read his thoughts, as of late they had become increasingly difficult to access. Strange, considering her telepathy had become increasingly sensitive to the thoughts of the other townsfolk.
“The town is going to think I’m a loon, Elizabeth. What if they turn on me? What if they try to run us out of town?”
“Worry about the things you can change and don’t sweat the rest,” she counseled “We’ll see if we can find the bunker doorways. If they exist, then we know the general wasn’t crazy after all, and that ought to alleviate some of your concerns.”
“I’m the mayor; it’s my job to be concerned.”
“Honey, when you address Hewego, you can’t express any doubt about the bunker. You must speak with utter certainty.”
“I’ll feel like an idiot.”
“That’s pride talking,” Elizabeth chastised. “They’ll hear you out. The community respects you.”
“I can’t believe that I’ve become the weird guy at the bar talking about alien abductions, while everyone laughs at him behind his back.”
“I’m not laughing, Red.”
He reached over his shoulder to grip her hand, pulled it forward and kissed her knuckles. “I love you.”
“I know, but it’s not the same—is it?”
“What isn’t the same? Same as what?”
“Every time you tell me you love me, you feel like you’re betraying your first wife.”
“That’s not true.”
“Whenever we make love, I see Kay’s face floating around inside of your head. I’m not angry, Red. Trust me, I understand. There’s no replacing what we had with our first families—is there?”
He shook his head, but didn’t say anything.
“I gave my first family the best part of me,” Elizabeth confessed. “But I love you and Michael with everything I have left to give. I’m so grateful to have both of you in my life.”
He squeezed her hand
“I love you with everything I have left to give, too. I just hope it’s enough.”
“It’s plenty.”
She squeezed his hand back and they made love again as if the world was scheduled to end that very night. Later, Red’s dog came in to lie between them, shoving Elizabeth out of the way. The faint smell of mushrooms wafted from her shaggy coat.
“Scat,” Elizabeth tried to shove Zena off the bed, but her furry butt wouldn’t budge. “Do something about your dog.” Elizabeth ordered, shaking Red awake to complain.
“Two good-looking ladies in bed with me at the same time—why would I?”
The dog laid her big muzzle on Red’s head, whipping Elizabeth’s legs with her wagging tail.
“Ow!” Elizabeth held her throbbing knee.
The dog let her sloppy pink tongue hang out unapologetically and rolled over for a belly rub, practically shoving Elizabeth off the edge of the bed, which was only a double. Her master obliged. Zena’s leg kicked furiously as she groaned with pleasure.
“Silly dog,” Red said, leaving Elizabeth feeling like she was in a competition with not one, but two other women. She could never win against the memories of Kay, but she’d be damned before losing out to Zena. Giving a heave, she rolled the dog out of bed. Zena protested with a frustrated bluster and trotted out of the room.
..............................
The next morning, Red knocked on Nate’s door. The young man lived alone. He answered the door, wearing only his underwear. In his hand was a 1963 Marvel comic, Strange Tales, July issue. Red was never much into comic books—as a kid he’d rather just see the movie—but his father had been a collector so he knew more than he cared to know about valuable comics.
“Whatsup, Bossman?” Nate asked, combing his disheveled hair with his fingers.
“Sorry to disrupt the heavy reading there, Nate.”
“Dr. Strangelove is introduced in this one,” Nate informed. “The guy who used to live here has a shitload of nerdware—Star Wars figurines, Star Trek uniforms, and comic books coming out the yin-yang. A lot of his stuff is mint, but not anymore. I’ve played with and read his entire collection. He’s going to shoot me in the next life, but hey, there’s no market for this stuff anymore.”
“You don’t have to justify yourself to me, kid. We’re all just doing what we gotta do to get along. I’m going on a trip to town and I was hoping you’d come along and lend me your unique skills.”
“Let me get dressed.”
One thing Red liked about Nate was that he didn’t ask a lot of questions. He was the poster child of happy-go-lucky. The two of them dragged a flatbed wagon from the shed at Red’s place, filled it with empty gas cans, and pulled it through town. Zena tagged along behind them until she saw Michael and two of his playmates having a swordfight with sticks. Red and Nate paused a moment to watch. By the clever footwork and deft moves, it was apparent that the kids played the game often. Upon seeing they had an audience, Michael held up his stick.
“Arise, fearless guardians,” he said, mimicking an English accent. “The lord of our demesne and his loyal knight have arrived.”
The boys and girls gathered around Red and Nate in a circle, holding their swords in front of them, straight and stiff, like knights paying tribute to their king. Red laughed, but felt a bit uncomfortable.
“The lord of the demesne says go to school,” he ordered his subjects.
“As it is said, so it shall be done,” the children said, bowing in unison.
“You are weird little dudes,” Nate said, turning up the corner of his lip and adding as an afterthought, “And dudettes.”
One of the girls whacked Michael across the back with a stick and ran awa
y giggling. Then they all ran off to resume their fake battle. Zena dashed off after them, barking with enthusiasm.
“Zena’s a fickle lady,” Nate commented.
Red grunted, watching her running circles around Michael.
As the men walked on, Red decided to let Nate in on the purpose of the trip.
“This is a gas run.”
“To the city?”
“Yep.”
“It’s a dry well out there, Red. It was slim pickings last year. This year it’s no pickings at all.”
“Maybe not,” Red drawled. “My guess is there were stations with gas in their reserve tanks when civilization shut down. If you can figure out how to power the pumps with your ability, we may be up and running.”
“I think you’re being too optimistic, Red. That’s how my father died. He got in a fight at a gas station. He was killed for a gallon of gas.”
“How awful,” Red said. “I’m sorry about that.”
A shadow of darkness came over Nate’s normally cheerful face. Red thought he saw his companion’s jaw clench, a fist curl, but in a flash, the young man was smiling again. “My father got off easy compared to the rest of my family. He was gone like that.” Nate snapped his fingers. “Died without suffering.”
Red wasn’t sure what he should say—if anything—so he simply walked beside Nate, letting the younger man steer the conversation.
“No offense, but I think your mission is doomed before it begins,” Nate said.
“It won’t hurt to try.”
“You’re the boss, Bossman,” Nate shrugged. “I’ll give it a whirl, but don’t get your hopes up.”
“After a few hours of walking, the buildings became closer together, the lots smaller. Roofs sagged. Bricks had crumbled onto grass-choked sidewalks. A coat of rust or grime coated everything manmade.
“I remember when this street was bumper-to-bumper traffic,” Red said wistfully. He pointed to a decrepit Starbucks. The green mermaid on the logo used to be beautiful. Now she looked sinister as the paint eroded with each passing winter, each passing storm.
“My wife and I used to bring the kids here every Sunday morning.”
“Nice,” Nate said, not sounding all that interested.
The gas station Red used to frequent stood at the corner opposite the Starbucks, kitty-corner from a Walgreens, and he started there, but he planned to hit up as many of the stations as he could. This area of town had a lot of them.
The pavement around the dusty pumps had buckled; dandelions and tufts of grass were poking their way up through the cracks. He fiddled with the rubber hoses. They felt kind of brittle, but only two of them were torn. The gas attendants used to turn the pumps on from inside of the store, so he sent Nate there to do his thing. Nate emerged a few minutes later, holding up a box full of Mike & Ikes like a trophy.
“Look what I found!” Nate said with a full mouth. “Delectable chemical fake fruitiness—just like I remember. Mmmm… want one?”
“Quit horsing around. Find the fuse box. Circuit breaker. Something useful.”
Together they found it in a little room behind the checkout counter. After much experimenting, Nate figured out how to power the gas pumps using his electrical generative skills. “Now what?”
“Hope for a gusher.” Red said. “Now sit tight while I fill the containers.”
His plan panned out; the pump activated when Nate did his number on the circuit box, and gas poured out of the hose. After he filled all their gas cans, Red told Nate about the next order of business. They’d use some of the gas to fill vehicles and bring them back to Hewego.
“Why?” Nate wanted to know.
“I hope you never know the answer to that question, Nate. Look for something that can carry a lot of people, like a bus or something. We also need a few with speed.”
“There’s a black ‘Vette on the corner of Rothman and Wheelock.”
“Perfect.”
The men resumed their walk, pulling the full gas cans behind them in Red’s faithful Radio Flyer.
“You know who I have my eye on?” Nate said out of the blue.
“Who?” Red tried not to smile.
“Blanche.”
“She’s a smart girl.”
“Yeah. And she has big baboombuhs.”
“That’s always a perk.”
“Perk, ha! Good one, Red.” He sighed deeply. “Only trouble is she doesn’t like younger guys.”
“How old are you anyway?”
“Seventeen.”
“How old is Blanche?”
“Almost nineteen.”
“Wow.” Red tried not to laugh at the younger man’s troubles. “I’m surprised she’s not using a cane to assist her feeble old legs.”
They walked a while longer without talking, but Nate was not the type to remain silent for long.
“You know what would be a really cool ability?”
“What?”
“If I could shoot thunderbolts out of my eyes, or the end of my fingertips.” He spread his fingers. “I’d even settle for my fudge maker. KA-BAM!” He bumped his pelvis forward as if lightning had just shot out of his rear. “Electric Assman to the rescue!”
“Uh, Nate…”
“It could happen.”
“Shut-up and keep pulling.”
“Whatever you say, Bossman.”
Chapter 14
Over the weeks to follow, Nate helped Red with locating more fuel and recruiting additional vehicles for the cause. Elizabeth busied herself studying the schematics of the bunker, reading and re-reading the general’s notes, until she was sure she had the location and layout of the main control room committed to memory. By now she could recite the countdown procedures by heart.
Red concentrated more on what would happen before they entered the bunker, devising a way to move a lot of people quickly on short notice. There were two different entrances to the bunker. One was two miles from the missile control room. The other was practically on top of it.
Red and Elizabeth left the safety of the cloaking device to check out the highway leading to the bunker. Fallen trees blocked part of the route, so they spent a day clearing the trunks off the road. A jackknifed semi-truck blocked it further down the way. The truck’s gas tank was empty; Red siphoned some from the car they were driving, hoping the semi would start without diesel. The engine sputtered and popped, but it moved just enough to open one lane of the four-lane road. Now, it would be a seventy-mile straight shot from Hewego to the Galatians Bunker.
They managed to find both entrances. The main entrance, the one closest to Hewego, was located inside a building on a commercial dairy farm. The other one was located in a former bean field, disguised as part of a billboard advertisement for baby food.
Weeds had overtaken the field, so they parked the car on the side of the road and crossed the four-acre field on foot until they stood underneath the advertisement of a gigantic smiling infant. Feed Your Baby Rainbows, the sign suggested. The bunker door, integrated into the huge metal signpost, was barely detectable, even if you knew where to look.
The general had given clear instructions that they weren’t to open the doors until absolutely necessary, for fear the energy spikes would be detected byg the Celeruns, so they had to be content with simply finding the doorways.
“Do you really think biospheres are down there?” Elizabeth asked. “The general’s notes said that they could thrive for only so long without any human intervention. It’s been over three years, Red. What if we get down there and everything has shut down? What if all the animals and plants have died? What if the air processors have failed?”
“Worry about what we can change, Elizabeth, and don’t sweat the rest.”
“Using my own words against me,” she muttered. “Not fair.”
“All is fair in love and war,” Red said. “And this is war.”
“And I love you,” she said, standing on tiptoes to give him a kiss.
Red wished things wer
e different, that he could provide her with all the things he’d given Kay, but somehow, he imagined Elizabeth wouldn’t want what Kay had wanted or gotten. He didn’t know if Elizabeth had always had simple tastes, but it was something he admired about her now.
They headed back to Hewego, barely talking, because there wasn’t a whole lot left to say. He couldn’t read minds, but he could pick up her anxiety about the days ahead was getting worse.
The main problem, as Red saw it, was the stubborn people of Hewego. He knew they’d never agree to leave until they saw the aliens for themselves. He’d talked to Father Bob about his assessment, and the clergyman completely agreed, but if they waited too long to evacuate, it might be too late.
If he did convince the Hewegoans to evacuate to Galatians Bunker, what would they do if the Celeruns pursued? That’s why the cars he and Nate had brought back to Hewego had to be in the best shape possible, but getting them to that point wasn’t going to be easy.
The vehicles had sat idle for several years. Plugged O-rings, loose cracking hoses, and evaporated fluids were common problems. Red’s mechanical talents allowed him to zero in on what was broken and fix it right the first time, saving a lot of time, but missing fluids could only be fixed with actual fluids. Nate was his gopher guy.
The town’s people joked about the mayor’s growing collection of vehicles—especially about the fleet of buses. He’d even selected members of the community for bus driving lessons. People were left scratching their heads, wondering if the mayor was losing it.
“Remember the show Hoarders?” Veronica repeatedly warned her best friend. “Red is becoming one. You have to nip this in the bud, Elizabeth.”
“Don’t worry,” Elizabeth tried to assure her. “The vehicles will be gone before the first snowfall.”
Despite the pressure from the city council to clean up his growing junkyard, Red decided to add even more vehicles. He was going to do his best to include Last Haven in the evacuation as well. Last Haven was larger than Hewego. Its government had taken on a totalitarian slant. The mayor there was an autocratic dictator, his citizens cowed, unused to being questioned.
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