Redaction: The Meltdown Part II

by Andrews, Linda

  “Yeah.” Jillie stretched the word into three syllables. “I’m not deaf, you know.”

  He bit back his retort. Sarcasm was wasted on the young. “I’m counting on you two to look after Toby.” Jillie glared at Olivia. “It’ll take both, because the little squirt can get into trouble lickety-split.”

  Jillie crossed her arms and flung herself against the seat back. “I know how to watch him.”

  He’d have to talk to the girl, explain that Olivia needed her too.

  “I’s not a squirt.” Toby hugged his teddy bear. “I’s a munchkin.”

  “I’ll help.” Olivia snuck a peek at the backseat.

  “Good.” He followed the tanker off Wintersburg Road onto a side street. It wouldn’t be long now. Instructions welled up in his throat. He should have spent time warning them instead of trying to fix them. “I’ll—”

  “Heads up, Papa Rose.” The tanker’s brake lights bathed the car’s interior in a bloody hue. Gears ground as Brainiac downshifted. “We’re pulling up to the guard station.”

  Why had Falcon let the squid drive? The sailor manned boats not semis. “Roger that.”

  “Fuck me!” Pride colored Falcon’s voice in phosphorescent hues. “They’ve got tanks guarding the place. Four. Five. Six of them. Flash your lights.”

  Yeah, they didn’t want to be blown to bits, not when they were so close to completing their mission. All they had to do was transfer the gas to the generators, make sure the reactors were powered down and voilà, everyone got four extra days on the Earth’s surface.

  What could possibly go wrong?

  Lifting his foot off the accelerator, he coasted behind the big rig. Tanks. Well, why not? Too bad the attack had come from tiny kids toys. There’d better be a particularly nasty corner of Hell for the asshole that dreamt up that offensive. He lifted his Sig-Sauer from the door’s pocket. “I want you guys to lay low until I say so. Got it?”

  “Toby’s already low.” Jillie laid her head behind the sleeping boy’s and set her hand on the chubby one holding the teddy bear.

  “Am I low enough?” Olivia slouched in her seat. The interior dome light sparkled on her silver emergency blanket.

  Her head stuck a couple of inches above the window. A good target for a half-assed sniper. “Why don’t you sit on the floor and put your head on the cushion?”

  Eyes wide, she nodded and unclipped her seatbelt.

  “You could come back here.” Jillie stuck her hand between the two front seats.

  Olivia clasped it and dove into the back. The blanket snapped like a cape behind her and her foot collided with his elbow. “We can share the blanket.”

  “Thanks.”

  He rubbed the ache from his arm and stopped the car. “Okay, we just have to clear the checkpoint.”

  Hopefully without shooting. He set his hand on the gear. Maybe if he threw it in reverse, he could get the kids far enough away before the tanker exploded.

  Falcon swore softly. “It’s unmanned. I repeat the station and tank are empty. I’m going to unlock the gate.”

  The Prius stilled underneath his feet. God, he hated that. It always felt like the engine died. “You need help?”

  “This isn’t amateur hour.”

  He heard the cab’s door shut.

  “Hey, Papa?” Brainiac drummed on the dashboard to an old AC/DC song. “You think the same kids that go to special ed classes later have to go to Special Forces when they enlist?”

  The squid must have been thinking up that one all day. “Sounds about right to me. Notice how Falcon barely speaks, gotta be some mental handicap in there somewhere.”

  “Fuck you two.” Falcon popped the lock then there was a click and the gate rattled as he pushed it open.

  “Obvious anger issues.” Brainiac tsked.

  “Probably why they wear the funny colored hats, too.” He scanned the fence encircling the property. Damn. Why wasn’t there a coyote or bird or something out? This stillness made his balls itch. “Helps to know at a glance what kind a mental midget you’re dealing with.”

  “While you two comedians are yucking it up, I’m doing the heavy lifting.” Falcon grunted. “The job was the death of old Fred here.”

  He tensed and clicked the safety off his weapon. “Foul play?”

  “Natural causes. Or what passes for it nowadays. There’s a damn Burgers in a Basket plushie sitting on his computer monitor.” An odd clicking sound drifted through the com. “I’m lowering the pylons now.”

  “Why would they have pylons?” Brainiac scoffed. Air brakes burped then the tanker drifted forward. “I mean, anyone who wanted in could just plow through the fence.”

  “And the guards with automatic weapons would pick ‘em off if they got close to the reactors.” Falcon breathed heavier, no doubt sweeping through the building.

  “And the fields are mined on the other side,” Papa interjected. Why should Falcon be the only one pulling lies out of his ass? “Go off the paved road and boom!”

  “Really?” The brake light flared as Brainiac coasted by the guard station.

  “No, you dipshit.” Falcon ghosted out of the building and behind the truck, flipping the bird while passing in front of the Toyota’s hood. “Papa’s just messing with your squishy squid brain.”

  Killjoy. He jackrabbited the car close to the other man’s legs. “Are you finished snapping holiday pictures, Falcon? Can we get on with the mission?”

  “Patience.” Falcon disappeared around the side of the tanker. A moment later, the cab door slammed.

  The tanker picked up speed.

  “Name’s Papa Rose and if you don’t know it by now, you might wanna take a refresher course in Special Ed.” He shifted into drive and followed the truck. Headlamps illuminated construction equipment until it was subsumed by shadows.

  “Can we get up now?” Olivia stared up at him from the back floor.

  “Not yet.” He leaned into the turn. The reactors and assorted buildings blazed on the left. Plenty of places for a sniper to hide. “But soon.”

  “‘Kay.” She shrunk back down but her hand gripped the teddy bear’s.

  They’d be okay. He’d make sure they’d be okay. Whatever it took. They braked at an intersection and turned left, heading for two bat-shaped three-story buildings. The hair on his neck rose as he scanned the area. What was pinging his ‘oh shit’ meter?

  “Falcon?” He had to be missing something, but what? His senses sharpened. Rows of black birds studded the field of skeletal towers. A Burgers in a Basket hamburger wrapper flapped against a curb. Private vehicles decomposed slowly in faded parking spots.

  “Copy that,” Falcon whispered. “Despite the lights there’s too damn many shadows.”

  As they coasted past an arrow-shaped parking lot, he caught motion from the corner of his eye. “Ten o’clock. The camera moved.” He slapped the steering wheel. The impact rattled up his arm. “Someone is tracking our movements.”

  Brainiac snorted and led them through the parking lot toward a pill bug-like buildings. “They’re probably motion activated. Man, are you paranoid.”

  “Doesn’t mean someone’s not out to get us,” Falcon answered. “You know where you’re going, B?”

  Driving with one hand, he kept the gun in the other. This corridor was the perfect place for an ambush.

  “The generator rooms are next to the reactors.”

  Like that helped. There were buildings all around the damn domes. “Can you be a little more specific?”

  Brainiac pulled the truck to a stop near a black rectangle. “Not until I check it out.”

  “Well, hell, I need to stretch my legs anyway.” Falcon spoke just at the lights on the tanker died. “How’re the munchkins, Papa?”

  Parking behind the squid, he glanced in the back seat. Toby slept on but tremors rippled through the wide-eyed girls. “Holding up.”

  “We’re going to need you for this jaunt.” Falcon appeared at the back of the truck.

&n
bsp; “Roger that.” Killing the engine, he released his seatbelt and twisted on the seat. He tucked the blanket around Olivia’s shoulder. “I’ll be right back. You’re safe for now, but I think you should keep low until I get back.”

  “Will you come back?” A single tear skipped down Olivia’s cheek.

  “I promised to take you to the soldiers and I will.” He swept a blond strand off Jillie’s forehead. “I never break a promise. Now be good and I should be back in a few minutes.”

  “You’ll leave the light on?” Jillie bit her knuckle.

  “You bet.” He stepped out of the car. A beep warned him of the light but he shut the door anyway. Gun in hand, he joined Brainiac and Falcon by the tanker. “What’s the plan?”

  “They alright in there?” Falcon jerked his head toward the Toyota.

  “Toby’s sleeping. Olivia and Jillie are scared but keeping it together for each other.” He stood a little straighter. No whining or wailing from his girls.

  With his M-4, Brainiac pointed to the boxy building in front of them. Two round tanks separated it from the dark rectangular pool they’d parked alongside. “I think this is the generator room.”

  Falcon checked his gun. One in the chamber. “Let’s check it out.”

  The former Green Beret took point. Papa Rose scanned the road. Nothing moved in the light puddles. Pivoting, he jogged behind B. His attention never rested any place too long. His stomach cramped. Both of them were expendable, this was Brainiac’s show. He hoped the squid gave a command performance.

  They quickly arrived at a plain steel door with a black access panel beside it. A diamond with colors and numbers was screwed to the wall next to a red box marked emergency phone.

  “I was right.” Brainiac pumped the air. “This is the generator room.”

  “How can you tell?” Papa Rose eyed the camera staring at him from the corner. His finger twitched on the trigger. Someone had to be behind it, watching them. But why weren’t they confronted when they entered the site?

  B tapped the red number. “Flammable not radioactive. They have to be inside.”

  Falcon worked a pinch of white explosive in between his fingers. “Let’s have a look.”

  “Don’t move! Or I’ll kill us all.” A male voice blared around them before disintegrating into a cough.

  “What the fuck!” He aimed at the double headed speakers hanging a foot over the door. Brainiac hadn’t been the only one to be right. They weren’t alone.

  B turned toward the camera and slung his M-4 on his shoulder. Cupping his hands around his mouth, he yelled. “We’re here to help. We have fuel.”

  “I can’t hear you, you idiot.” The man managed between coughs.

  “Papa.” Falcon jerked his head toward the phone box.

  Since when had he been knighted the great communicator? Lowering his gun, he ripped open the box and lifted the headset. The plastic was cold against his ear. The phone rang once. Twice.

  “Dying of radiation exposure is very nasty. First you—”

  “I’ve already gotten the Cliff Notes,” he snapped. “Doctor Mavis Spanner sent us. We picked up some fuel to keep the generators running so everyone can get to safety?”

  “Fuel? Fuel!” the man shrieked. “I’ve got fucking fuel! It’s water I need. Water! In eighteen hours, the first spent fuel rods will be exposed to air and then everything will glow for thousands of years!”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Mavis’s stomach jumped into her mouth. Whoa! She clawed at the ‘oh shit’ handle above the rear door and jerked upright in her seat. Humvees weren’t supposed to move sideways. After swiping her hand over her mouth to wipe away any drool marks, she peered out the window. Headlights shimmered on Fossil Creek. Rain snaked down her window and drummed on the metal roof.

  “The river’s running pretty high.” Black currents sucked at the sandy banks and white foam swirled on the wide, usually placid water. Stubby blades of grass bobbed on the waves. The sand bar on the left had completely disappeared.

  “Current’s strong.” David didn’t glance at her in the rearview mirror. Muscles flexed in his jaw and under his teeshirt as he manhandled the steering wheel.

  The back of the Humvee swung to the left. Shrubs clawed at the side. She tightened her grip until her fingers began to feel numb. “It’s been raining all day, but I didn’t expect this.”

  Hadn’t taken the rain into account in her bug out plans. Or the snow being reported at higher elevations. Her three day trip was beginning to seem ridiculously optimistic. Good thing she’d asked Papa Rose, Falcon and Brainiac to buy her four days.

  General Lister reached for her abandoned cup of coffee. He sniffed it then drained the last couple of sips. “Rain’s a nice break from the sandstorms and blistering heat of the Middle East, isn’t it, Sergeant-Major?”

  “Yes, Sir.” The tires dug into the blacktop and the vehicle shot forward. Headlights illuminated the break in the trees and shrubs lining the creek bank.

  Light shone inside the vehicle as the personnel carrier behind them entered the water. He didn’t veer off course or fishtail. Perhaps the heavier vehicles would be okay.

  One by one, Mavis pried her fingers from the handle. Pins and needles crept along her skin. She might have overreacted a smidge. “It’s not the rain that’s the issue. We’re traveling through washes and unmaintained roads.”

  Lister grunted over the squeal and thump of the wiper blades. Part of the dry-rotted rubber flopped over the glass with each swish. “They couldn’t slow us down any more than stopping for all those civilians. Besides, we’ll be on state roads soon. Smooth sailing all the way to Colorado. Should be snug in a mine shaft by this time tomorrow.”

  It would be nice, but they both knew it was a fairy dream.

  Those small towns along the way posed a hazard, especially if folks were unwilling to move or barricaded the road. Mentioning the impending meltdown might have pried a few people loose. Then again, it hadn’t kept settlers from claiming radioactive homesteads around Chernobyl. And would surely have led to panic when it was coupled with the anthrax attack.

  At least there was tangible proof of the disease.

  Too many people would dismiss the nuclear threat because it couldn’t be seen, touched or felt.

  With a bump, the Humvee lurched from the river, the swoosh of draining water barely discernible above the crackle of thunder. Gravel pelted the undercarriage as they steamed along the muddy road and the interior quickly flooded with the crimson glow of the tail lights in front of them.

  Mavis grabbed her computer and lifted it from the floor. Might as well get a few more hours of work in. “Did Sunnie’s truck make it to camp?”

  “They’re behind us.” Instead of following the carrier in front of him, David veered into virgin desert. The vehicle rocked wildly and branches scratched at the doors. Tires slipped, dug in, then pushed them higher. “Have been since we stopped for lunch.”

  Right. She knew that. Her cat nap had dulled her wits but at least the fire in her throat had settled into a low simmer. She glanced out the window. From their vantage on a hill above the river, she counted ten large trucks serpentining down the dirt road plunging into Fossil Creek. “Which one is she, do you know?”

  “Fourth from the rear.” Headlamps spotlighted Lister as another truck left the river.

  Nine trucks remained.

  David jockeyed the car back and forth until she could see the convoy through the thump and squeak of the wipers. “Robertson, flash your headlights.”

  The fourth truck from the back fell dark then blazed on.

  Lister chuckled.

  Lucky guess or was the general really that good? Mavis opened her laptop. Probably a combination of both, gold stars were hard to earn in the Corps. She ripped her attention from the crossing and focused on the screen. Worrying wouldn’t help Sunnie. Besides, only they seemed to struggle across the creek bed. “I’ve been thinking about adding a civilian consultant or two to our gr
oup.”

  Funny. Technically, she was a civilian, yet neither she nor many of the other survivors seemed to think of her that way.

  Lister chewed on the earpiece of his readers. “The snake who thinks he’s a preacher and doesn’t know his name?”

  She rubbed the goosebumps from her arms and swallowed the bile rising in her throat. “Definitely him.”

  “Keep him close, limit his influence.”

  Because a bullet through the brain was off the table, at least for the moment. Perhaps, she’d find a side benefit in the hazardous road ahead. With the human race facing extinction, one death would make a huge impact on future generations. Especially if certain undesirable traits were chlorinated from the gene pool.

  “Exactly. But I was thinking more in terms of this fine upstanding gentleman.” She brought up a picture of an obese man in a dirty flannel shirt. Deep-set beady eyes glared at her from extra rolls of flesh.

  Lister’s salt and pepper eyebrows soared toward his crewcut. “I’m too tired for sarcasm, Doc. Why him?”

  “I’m pretty sure he’s in league with Reverend Trent.” She resisted the urge to wipe her tongue on her sleeve just associating a man of God with that scumbag. But until she had proof, she had no choice.

  God help her if Trent P. Franklin really was a man of the cloth.

  She called up everything Sally had managed to compile on the fat man before handing her laptop to the general.

  “Dirk Benedict.” Lister prodded his glasses higher up his nose. “He’s got a record of drunk and disorderly and resisting arrest. Could be an authority issue.”

  “It was ten years ago and that’s not why I picked him.”

  “I know that name.” David turned in the driver’s seat. “Can I see a picture of him?”

  Lister angled the screen so David could see it.

  “Yeah, he has authority issues and is a lying asshole.” His lips twisted in a sneer. “He tried to claim to support dead people so he could get more rations. When that didn’t work, a couple of folks in his neighborhood reported that he’d stolen their supplies. God knows how many he bullied, but I’d bet it was more than a handful.”