Fallout by Todd Strasser Read Free Book Online Page B

side could win? Thus far in the conversation, Mom had remained quiet. Now she slowly shook her head. “Mutually assured destruction. It’s ridiculous.”
    Dad leveled his gaze at her. “I agree, but it’s a possibility.”
    â€œDon’t scare them,” Mom said, a bit harshly. The “them” she was referring to was Sparky and me.
    â€œThey asked why we’re building a shelter —” Dad began to reply.
    â€œNot a shelter, a
bomb
shelter,” Mom interjected. “And
we’re
not building it —
you
are.”
    They stared at each other. Then Mom got up and hurried out of the room. Dad let out a sigh. “Finish your dinner, boys.” He left to go find Mom.

As water races through the pipes and into the tank, I hear someone’s throat catch and see Mrs. Shaw hug her husband with relief.
    â€œThere was probably an obstruction in the line,” says Mr. McGovern. “The water pressure must have forced it loose.”
    Dad takes a glass from a shelf and fills it, then sniffs tentatively before taking a sip. He grimaces.
    â€œWhat’s wrong?” Mr. Shaw asks. Dad hands him the glass, and Ronnie’s dad tries a little, then spits it at the drain in the middle of the floor and wipes his mouth. “
Achh!
It’s awful.”
    â€œYou didn’t rinse the system when it was installed?” Mr. McGovern’s question sounds critical.
    Dad doesn’t answer.
    â€œIs that bad?” Mrs. Shaw asks with alarm, directing the question to Mr. McGovern. “Will it hurt us?”
    Mr. McGovern pauses thoughtfully. “I don’t think so. It won’t taste good, but we won’t have to drink it forever.”
    Mrs. Shaw takes the glass from her husband and sips. Her face goes hard. “Well, at least we can wash our hands.”
    Dad gazes up at the water tank. “Maybe we shouldn’t. I’m worried about using it for anything except drinking.”
    â€œYou don’t think there’ll be more if this runs out?” Mr. Shaw asks.
    Dad shrugs. “I don’t know.”
    â€œActually,” Mr. McGovern begins, then pauses as if he wants to make sure everyone is listening. “Given the circumstances, I suspect we’ll have all the water we’ll need.”
    This comment is met with silence. The grown-ups share the kind of meaningful look that makes kids nervous.
    â€œWhy?” Paula looks anxiously at her father, who lets out a reluctant sigh like he doesn’t want to give the answer.
    But he does. “Because, honey, there probably isn’t anyone else left to use it.”
    Paula begins to sob again.
    Dad pours just enough water into a bowl so that we can wash our hands. Then he uses a corner of a towel to gently wipe Mom’s face. Sparky and I huddle under the blanket. The sour odor of urine from our wet pajamas mixes with the damp mildew smell of the shelter. I would ask Dad if he’d wash our pajamas, but I know what his answer will be.
    He does make a pitcher of Tang. There are only four glasses, so each family shares and Janet gets one for herself. Even with the Tang, the bitter metallic taste from the pipes comes through. By now everyone’s a little hungry, and we eat Spam on the bread and broken crackers Mom brought from the kitchen. The Spam tastes spicy and salty, and everyone drinks more Tang. But Dad’s being careful. Whether on crackers or bread, we each have about half a sandwich’s worth of food and maybe a cupful to drink.
    â€œHerb thinks the water won’t be a problem,” Mrs. Shaw reminds Dad.
    Sitting beside Mom, Dad says, “I don’t know how anyone could be certain.”
    Mr. McGovern exhales noisily, as if he’s dealing with an idiot. “It’s a gravity-fed system, Richard. It doesn’t depend on electricity or any other kind of power.”
    â€œWilling to bet your life on that?” Dad asks sharply, as if he’s