Neighbors by Jerry D. Young Read Free Book Online Page B

Bernie, going over to the small table against one wall. It held communication gear and a remote reading radiation survey meter.

“Do you know if the radiation is still going up or down?” Hank asked.

As Bernie spoke, Hank noticed the pad next to the meter. “I’ve been recording the levels…”

“I see. Peaked while I was asleep and falling now.” There was an old fire resistant file cabinet next to the table. Hank opened a drawer and took out a laptop computer.

“You have TOM’s spreadsheet for calculating shelter stay time?” Bernie asked, walking over to look over Hank’s shoulder as he sat down and opened up the computer.

“Yep. Assuming no more hits close enough to add new fallout…” Hank typed some numbers into the spreadsheet when it opened and then continued. “We’re in for five weeks or so before we can spend much time outside. Can go out to check after a week, and we’ll need to sleep in the shelter for several months. But the five weeks will get us past the worst of it.”

Bernie nodded. “I’m going to take a nap.”

Hank nodded and turned back to the computer.

The first week passed slowly. By the seventh day Hank was able to raise both Pete in his basement shelter, and those in the community shelter on the FRS radios each had. Pete and family were doing fine. Several people in the community shelter that had been caught in the fallout on their way home were beginning to show some of the effects of radiation sickness.

Bernie talked it over with Hank, and the two decided that Bernie should move to the community shelter to help with the ill. So both suited up in protective gear and left Hank’s shelter and house, Bernie carrying her medical pack.

Both were glad they were wearing respirators when they checked at the gate into the cul-de-sac. There were more bodies, already decomposing, than they’d left after the gunfight that resulted in Hank’s injury.

“Must have been a fight among those trying to get in,” Hank said, his voice slightly muffled despite the voice amplifier in the respirator.

“We need to do something with these bodies…” Bernie said.

Hank marveled at the calm tone of her voice. “But not now,” he replied. “The radiation level is still too high to spend more than a few minutes out here.”

Bernie nodded and they headed for the community shelter. To their surprise, there were three bodies outside the west entrance. No mention had been made about an attack on the shelter. But there were two rifles, a shotgun, and three handguns lying beside the bodies. There were marks on the outer entrance door that indicated the three had hammered at the door, trying to get in.

“Let’s check the east side,” Hank told Bernie and she nodded. It was the same scene, only with five dead, all carrying arms.

“We’re staying out too long,” Hank said. “Let’s move the bodies at the west entrance and get you inside.”

The two hurried back to the west entrance and dragged the bodies clear of the door. Hank pressed the intercom button beside the outer door, but nothing happened. After trying twice more, Hank took the FRS radio from his belt and keyed it.

There was an immediate response. “Hank, we’ve been waiting for you.” It was Bren.

“We’re at the west outer door. “We tried the intercom, but no one answered.”

“I’ll be right out to let you in.”

A few moments later and the door locking mechanism clanked, but the door didn’t open. “You back inside?” Hank asked on the radio.

“Yep. Come on in.”

Hank pushed on the heavy door and stepped inside the hallway that was part of the airlock entry to the shelter. Bernie was right behind him. Hank closed and locked the door and the two went to the inner door on the right side of the hall at the far end. It stood open.

Before they went into the shelter proper, Hank and Bernie took off their protective equipment and hung it up on pegs in the wall there for that purpose.