The Nuclear Catastrophe (a fiction novel of survival)

by Billig, Barbara C. Griffin

Finished, Althea allowed the pages to flutter shut beneath her fingers. In reflecting on what she’d read it became evident that this whole incident was a great deal more horrifying than she had originally thought. What degree of safety could possibly be afforded by six inches of stucco wall in a house when radiation could penetrate five feet of concrete? And going out into the open air, needlessly exposing oneself was sheer stupidity. Yet Althea had to take that further risk of exposure. The insulin for her mother had to be found. She’d failed yesterday. Today she’d have to succeed. Althea pressed her head between her palms, as if she could press out her deepening sense of futility. A timid knock sounded on her door.

  “Althea? Is it all right if I come in?”

  “Yes, Papa.” She didn’t want to talk to her father right now. The burden of her parents weighed on her like a giant yoke today. She didn’t resent her responsibility for them, but what could she do to spare them these dangers? Or find the hormone that her mother must have shortly? Her automobile was gone. Damn Los Angeles, anyway, for being the sprawling city it was. Damn it for making a four-wheeled machine a necessity of life. Damn her own panic and stupidity for leaving the keys in the car.

  Her father’s expression was one of worry—his face etched in fatigue. The situation was taking its toll on him. Looking closely at her, her father spoke softly, “It’s going to be pretty bad, isn’t it?” She hadn’t fooled him. She never had been able to. “I’m afraid so, Papa.”

  Minutes passed before he spoke again. “We don’t have anything left to drink, darling. I guess we didn’t pay much attention to stretching the juices as far as they’d go.”

  She had prayed for relief before it came to this.

  He fidgeted nervously, chewing on some imaginary cud in his cheek. “When do you think they’ll send someone in for us?”

  She didn’t want to say that chances of being rescued before the inversion lifted and the radiation dispersed were remote. Who could be expected to charge into this area and bring food and water to the helpless at this time? “Soon, I hope,” she finally replied.

  “Althea, your mother didn’t sleep last night,” he complained. “She walked the floor until daylight....I guess by morning she was so tired she had to get some rest so she finally lay down for awhile.”

  “I know, Papa. I heard her.”

  “She’s upset, Althea. She’s afraid we won’t find any insulin for her.”

  The woeful sound in her father’s voice and the abject misery in his face caused a well of depression to build in Althea.

  “She’ll use the last of the insulin this morning, but after that, what are we going to do?” he asked.

  “I’m going to try to get to one of the community hospitals,” Althea promised. “I’ll leave as quickly as I can.” Immediately she began putting on a pair of sturdy walking shoes.

  For a moment Jess seemed uncertain. “It may not be safe for you to be out alone....I’m going with you.”

  “No! No, Papa. You stay with Mama.” A seventy-two year old man with a bad heart would never tolerate the exertion. “I’ll find someplace that will let me have the medicine.”

  As Althea completed dressing her father watched her silently. When she had returned from yesterday’s trip she had told her parents about arriving at the pharmacy after it had been pillaged and finding Mr. Cole murdered. She had told them the complete story, leaving out none of the details. Until then, the two old people had been inclined to believe that by being seventy miles from the explosion site they were relatively safe from the effects of the disaster. But with the tale told by their daughter they began to realize that there were more dangers than just the radiation. And that was precisely what Althea had hoped to impress on them— that until rescue was accomplished, they must always be on their guard—not only by making themselves as secure as possible from the invisible dangers, but by barring their doors and windows against the pillage which would inevitably begin.

  It had been a constant source of concern to her, making her parents understand the full significance of this catastrophe. Convincing their unlearned minds of the powerful destructiveness in radiation, and then convincing them that they must participate in planning their own protection had drained her of patience. But if something were to happen to her, they had to be prepared to care for themselves.

  Lou Ella had quietly entered the room. “You’re going to try again, Thea?”

  Althea crossed to her and hugged the elderly woman tightly for a second. “Yes, Mama. I’m going to Glenview Community.”

  “Glenview?” rasped Lou Ella. “That’s a long way off.”

  Jess looked up. “Daughter, that’s an awful long way from here.”

  “It’s the closest hospital around.” Eighteen miles, Althea had determined—eighteen miles of steady walking. If she was lucky she could hope to get back by dark.

  Her father grew even more worried. “It ain’t safe, Thea....a colored woman walking all alone through that neighborhood.”

  Althea stepped up to him and hugged him closely. “Don’t worry, Papa. White folks are no more frightening than the people right around here. I’ll be all right.”

  Jess Carr had never been an openly demonstrative father but this time he folded his daughter in his arms and squeezed her. “You sure?”

  “I’m sure,” she answered, turning away. She took money out of her purse and fastened it inside a tiny pocket on her dress. She had no desire to tempt anyone unnecessarily, especially by carrying a purse that might promise some hidden reward. She took one last look around.

  “Don’t you think you ought to wear something on your head?” asked Lou Ella, her voice showing her torment.

  It seemed pointless to Althea; besides, she hated hats. “No, a hat won’t stop radiation, Mama. Now I don’t want either of you getting upset if by some chance I’m not back by evening. Okay? Promise me that you’ll stay in the house and wait?”

  Both parents nodded in agreement.

  “All right then. Remember, you’re to keep inside.” She started toward the door, then paused. “And if anybody comes to the house, you’re not to let them in. No matter who it is. Even if it’s somebody you know, you tell them that you can’t let them in the house.”

  The two old people obviously understood what she said but they were bothered by her instructions, and Althea knew this. They would find it hard to refuse anyone, yet they must, for their own safety.

  Walking out of the house, Althea was not at all certain that her parents had a complete understanding of this disaster. Still, the insulin had to be obtained, and she was the only one in the household capable of getting it. They had to be left alone, and she had to make the long trek to Glenview.

  The absence of a circulating breeze and the heaviness of the smoggy air was a guarantee that the inversion remained. Her journey toward the hospital had gone smoothly for what she estimated to have been an hour. An hour at her quickened pace, and Althea guessed she had covered four, perhaps five miles. The few people she had seen along the sidewalk had crossed over to avoid her, or had lowered their eyes and rushed on past her, avoiding any possibility for conversation. Althea felt the same way. She had no wish to be detained by anyone—for any reason—and she didn’t want to draw near another person. We’re all radiation lepers, she thought.

  Increasing her pace slightly, she kept her attention focused on her direction. She walked for what must have been another mile, determined only to reach the hospital as soon as possible, when a car pulled up beside her. The stealth with which the vehicle was unexpectedly at her side was startling. She hadn’t seen nor expected to see any traffic, when suddenly here it was. She threw one fast, frightened glance at the machine and at the man behind the wheel, and continued her walk.

  The car crept along beside her, keeping abreast with her stride. Althea moved away from the street to the far edge of the sidewalk, never slackening her pace.

  “Hey! Where are you going?” shouted the man through his window.

  A
cting as though she hadn’t heard, Althea kept her face straight ahead but quickened the pace ever so slightly. She could feel rather than actually see him as he leaned out again.

  “I asked you where you’re going!” he yelled.

  Her heart was racing by now. The man seemed insistent on talking to her, the last thing she wanted from some white man cruising the neighborhood.

  The driver reached over and tooted on the horn. Still she kept her face averted. He honked again, twice. “Can’t you hear anything?” he shouted at her.

  Not knowing exactly what to do but fighting the urge to run, Althea stopped and looked at him. He smiled at her, a not unpleasant smile but one strangely out of keeping with the events and the day. “What do you mean by honking at me?” she asked nervously.

  His smile remained but when he opened his mouth to speak he appeared not to have teeth. “I wondered why you’re out walking by yourself.”

  His comment was valid because she had been wondering herself what was so urgent that the others she’d seen on this journey were outside. Nevertheless, she had no interest in a confrontation with this stranger. She started off, refusing to reply.

  The car pulled to her once more and the man again leaned out. “What’s the matter with you....you scared or something?”

  Scared? Of course she was. Maybe, though, it would be best not to irritate him so that he’d just go on his way. “No, I’m not frightened,” Althea answered. “I’m in a hurry.”

  “Well, where are you going?”

  She halted and looked at him again. He sounded normal, perhaps even kind. Was it possible that he had only an interest in helping her? She doubted that. “To Glenview Community Hospital,” she replied.

  “You sick?”

  Shaking her head, she said, “No, not me. My mother.”

  The man’s smile did not lessen as he asked, “What’s wrong with her?”

  Suddenly this confrontation had become almost ludicrous—she, standing with her heart pounding so loud she could hear it, and that man grinning like a toothless Cheshire cat while he asked his questions. “I don’t think you’d be interested in my mother’s illness.’’

  “Okay,” he answered.

  Althea stepped off, eager to be away from him.

  “I’ll take you there,” he called out.

  This brought her to a halt. It was going to be dangerous if she didn’t get back home before darkness. And to be out in the radiation all day long....“You’d drive me to the hospital?” she asked.

  “Sure I will,” he answered. “Come on....get in.”

  She hesitated a long moment. The man sounded sincere.

  “Come on,” he urged, shoving open the door.

  Finally she decided. Perhaps this was one time when she should throw caution to the wind: She wanted to get to Glenview and back home to her parents as quickly as possible. “All right.” She slid into the seat with him, but kept her body pressed close to her door.

  His smile broadened, but there was no sign of either pink gums or teeth. The man simply had the longest upper lip she had ever observed. “It’s good of you to offer to do this,” Althea said. “Walking would take hours.”

  The driver nodded and began to hum a discordant tune under his breath.

  She watched as he happily swung the vehicle away from the curb and into the street. His actions were controlled but mechanical. She guessed that he’d only recently mastered the art of driving. She searched for words; perhaps conversation would hide the nervousness she felt. “I really never expected anyone to be interested in helping me.”

  He nodded in short jerks of the head and continued his disharmonious tune.

  His was certainly an unusual reaction to someone attempting conversation. The pounding of her heart was growing louder as Althea remarked, “I suppose none of us would have ever believed this sort of thing could have happened. If we had any inkling...any idea at all....well, without water it can be very bad.” Her talking mixed with his low humming. “Had I known the water would be polluted I would have filled my bath tub immediately. At least we’d have had drinking....”

  His laughter burst from his chest. She hadn’t intended the comment to be humorous, but suddenly this man was laughing as if he’d never stop. Something was amiss obviously with him. Helpless, Althea stared out her window while he laughed. The mirth expanded in him until he was beating his fist on the seat in cadence with his great heaving fits of giggles. At last, after several miles, during which she had neglected to pay attention to direction, his laughter subsided.

  “Say, would you like to have dinner with me tonight?” he asked.

  Althea swiveled her head around to get a closer look at the driver’s face. “What did you say?” she asked, almost afraid that she had heard him correctly.

  “Dinner. Din-din. You’ll have din with me tonight.”

  Of course. The man was a nut—a screwball. Had he escaped from some institution, she wondered. “Uh, uh,” she gasped in a low stammer, an affliction that haunted her whenever she was overly tense or alarmed, but normally controlled well. “Perhaps you should stop right here. I’ll walk the rest of the distance.”

  Instead of halting, he accelerated. “Oh yes,” he said soothingly, “you’ll like having dinner with me. First I’ll take you to that place—where was that place, again?” he asked, twisting his face in concentration.

  Althea suddenly noticed that they weren’t headed in the right direction. “To Glenview Community Hospital, but you’re going the wrong way. Glenview is north!” she said loudly.

  Suddenly he burst out with enthusiasm, “Listen, I’ve got an idea. There’s this really beautiful section of town you should see. It’s such a nice day for a drive, wouldn’t you like to take a drive?”

  Internally Althea was quickly becoming a shaking mass of human tissue. Perhaps she could play it up until she could get him to stop the car. “Oh, I....I....I wish I could but I really don’t have the time today,” she said, trying to keep her voice calm.

  The car raced wildly along the thoroughfare. Tall date palms with their bark hanging in slivers flashed before her eyes, reminding her that they were going away from her destination.

  “You know,” he remarked, “I always wanted to get on one of these streets and really open her up.” He was still accelerating. “Isn’t it exciting? No cops to pull me over.” He quickly resumed his humming.

  Keeping them placating, but adding an edge of sternness to her words, Althea said, “Listen, mister, if you don’t slow down you’re going to kill both of us. Now, why don’t you stop and let me out, then you can drive as fast as you like.”

  He whipped the steering wheel sharply to the left and the car made a short turn onto a bumpy asphalt stretch of roadway.

  “Hey, where are you going?” she asked with added alarm.

  His face smiled dreamily as he ignored her.

  The road changed to a rut-filled dirt lane that suddenly dropped into an empty river bed. The long, arid summer and fall months had left the bed rock-dry and perfectly passable, but with the exception of bicyclers, nobody ever came here. Arriving in the middle of the river bed, he headed the car directly up its length, intent on a spot that existed only in his mind’s eye.

  Althea began to formulate a scheme for getting away from this madman. She tightly held onto the door handle, planning to yank it open and tumble out if the fool ever slowed down to a less hazardous speed....or even if he didn’t.

  “It’s lovely, isn’t it?” he asked. “Just think, Margaret, we can follow the river forever. Forever....” he said dreamily.

  A freeway overpass was above them, casting its shadow on the crusty floor below as the car raced through it. There was no point in waiting longer. Taking a firmer grip, she pulled the lever and pushed outward. In the next second her body was catapulting over and over the gritty surface of the ground. Contacting the earth momentarily stunned her, but without allowing her body to come to a complete standstill, Althea got her feet under h
er and began running. She glanced back, expecting to see him behind her. Rather than being pursued, though, she was all alone, racing toward the river bank—a bruised, frightened woman intent on escape from what God and everyone else would judge a lunatic.

  The car was nowhere in sight. Having already rounded the bend of the river, it was hurrying away, leaving tiny puffs of dust as evidence of where it had been.

  This new area was unfamiliar to her. Pausing at the edge of the bank, she observed a territory so unknown that she may as well have been in the midst of a foreign city. After brushing dirt from her abraded knees and arms, and from her dress, she tidied her fallen hair, then gazed more closely about her. Unaware of how much or how little time she had actually spent within that speeding car, she could only assume from her surroundings that she was now in the Outer fringe of the county—far, far from home. In two directions, as far as she could see, were fields of crops. The last remnants of summer vegetables were still on the ground, awaiting the moment when the human harvesting machines would stalk through the fields, stripping the fruit from the vines. A narrow, dusty road passed between the agricultural blocks, and Althea started off along this road toward the distant houses.

  The tomatoes and beans had a peculiar wilt to them today, she noticed—a wilt attributed to both the desiccating heat and to the constant rain of radiation that fell from the sky. Walking over to the margin of the field, Althea stared glumly at the ripe, juicy red globes of food. Continual radio broadcasts had warned against ingestion of irradiated foods, particularly those growing in open spaces. Once they were taken into a body, the radiation would be absorbed by internal organs, eventually accumulating into massive doses that resulted in radiation sickness for the individual. And if sufficiently radioactive, the foods could be as lethal as any poison to a human being.

  Yet, hungry stomachs were unreasonable organs, and Althea felt her own empty gut objecting to the absence of food. It had been many hours since her meager breakfast and her throat was parched. The quart-sized organ sent out its volleys of pain and discomfort, disregarding the commands of her brain to be disciplined, to be patient. Without so much as water to stretch its elastic walls, the stomach would continue this until either the desire was satisfied, or the nerve receptors grew too weak to respond.