A storm was coming and along with it a high probability of lethal doses of radioactive material. “We need to get inside, and seal up,” Kyle said referencing the ritual practice he’d do when a storm approached.
This ritual required covering all windows and exterior doors with visqueen, a thick plastic sheet, then create a decontamination station in a sealed off room, preferably a bathroom. There he’d strip and wash to remove any possible radioactive particles he might have come into contact with. Kyle was strict with this practice. He had survived all these years because of this ritualistic practice.
“Darkening clouds? Kyle the entire sky has been cloudy off and on for years,” Barry said.
“We don’t’ have time to waste, get to it,” Kyle insisted as he grabbed an armful of items from the bed of the truck.
What remained of Salt Lake City lay to west and if a storm was coming from that direction so was radiation.
Barry approached the truck only to stop when Kyle tossed a roll of visqueen, a roller of tape and a staple gun at him.
“Start in the front room, and no more role playing in the mirror, okay?” Kyle ordered.
Barry scoffed at him and walked off.
Barry was busy stapling and taping the visqueen over the windows and exterior doors while whistling a show tune. Watching old television shows on DVD was something he enjoyed.
Kyle found a bathroom with a shower and checked the water. After a stuttering pause water rained out of the shower head. He let the water pour for a good minute into the basin then ran the Geiger counter over it to make sure it wasn’t contaminated and found it good. He placed his hand in the water to check the temperature and like everywhere else, it was ice cold. “This will suck,” he muttered as if expecting the water to turn warm. He shrugged off his large pack and began to unload the contents. Done, he proudly looked at the display of soaps, sponges, towels and fresh clothes laid out neatly on a clean tarp. The towels and fresh clothes were sealed in large zip lock bags.
Next to his arrangement, several buckets filled with water and detergent solution sat ready for them to clean any gear they couldn’t spare to lose.
“How’s it going?” he hollered to Barry.
“All good,” Barry replied from the back of the house.
Kyle entered the room and was about to help when he thought about the truck. He remembered seeing a detached garage off of the side of the house, it would be perfect to store the truck. “I’m going to park the truck, I’ll be back,” Kyle hollered running out, he saw the low tire and was reminded he needed to fix that first. Like a professional pit boss he had the truck lifted, punctured tire off and new one on in minutes. With the truck tire replaced the next thing was to get it into the garage. He pulled the truck outside the garage and ran to the door. He tried to lift but the door wouldn’t budge. He knew there had to be a side door, so he rushed to find it. Clearing the first corner he spotted it. He tried the knob but found it locked.
A strong gust of wind washed over him. It was a reminder the storm was nearing. He didn’t have time to waste. He stepped back, raised his right leg and kicked hard. The door exploded inward. He grabbed his flashlight, turned it on and peered inside to find another car in there. “Shit.” If he was going to get his truck safely parked inside, he had to first remove the old sedan. He found the cord that disconnected the motorized door lift and pulled. With the garage now able to open manually, he placed his hands against it and lifted. Surprisingly the door moved easily. With the door open, the next step was getting the car out. He walked around to the driver’s door and paused when he spotted a garden hose sticking through a slight crack in the window. His eyes followed it back to the tail pipe.
He was always curious to what happened to the homeowners of the homes he’d scavenge and for this one, he knew the answer. He reached for the handle but stopped short of opening it. He knew the keys were inside and all he needed to do was put the car in neutral and winch it out but something prevented him from even opening the door. Was it because this was their grave?
“Hurry up, the storms blowing in fast!” Barry hollered from the front porch.
Hearing Barry call out broke his resistance. He grabbed the handle and pulled. The door creaked open and out fell the clothed skeletal remains of the homeowner. Kyle didn’t bother to look around the car to see who else might be in there. He pushed the rest of the remains out and got behind the wheel. After years of experience, he knew he couldn’t just put the car into neutral by putting his foot on the brake and having the steering wheel unlocked. Modern vehicles now had lockouts on the gear shifts and he had to bypass it.
“What’s taking so long?” Barry asked suddenly appearing next to the driver’s door.
Not bothering to look up, Kyle asked, “Are you done inside?”
“Yeah.”
Kyle pulled out his trusty Benchmade folding knife and opened it. He slide the blade under a small cap on the gear shift column and lifted. The cap popped off and under it was a tiny button.
“What are you doing?” Barry asked curiously.
“Putting the car into neutral to get it out of here,” Kyle answered pressing the button while putting the gear shift into neutral. Before stepping out, he made sure the parking brake was off.
“Why did you have to do that?” Barry asked.
Kyle ignored him and got out. He pointed to the front of his truck and said. “Pull the winch cable over here.”
Barry stood.
Seeing Barry just standing, he gave him an odd look and asked, “Are you going to help or just stand there?”
Barry rushed to the truck, he nervously looked at the winch and called back, “How do I turn it on?”
“Oh, good, God,” Kyle said and ran over to do it himself. With the winch on, he unwound the cable. “Take this and hook it to something secure, not just the bumper, wrap it under something that won’t break off.”
Barry walked the unwinding winch cable to the back of the car, knelt and looked under. He found a secure spot, looped the cable around and connected back to the hook. “It’s set.”
Kyle turned on the winch. It strained at first but as soon as the car began to move, the stress lessened.
Barry began to laugh.
“What’s so funny?” Kyle asked.
“The tires, they’re trashed, look,” Barry said pointing to the flattened and dry rotted tires.
Kyle ignored Barry’s comments. All he could think about was the storm barreling down on them and they weren’t finished yet.
Barry walked out in front and hollered, “You’re clear.”
Kyle unhooked the winch, secured it and without delay put the truck in the garage. He pulled the radio from the cradle and along with a battery, tucked it under his arm. He normally didn’t care to have radio contact while overnighting somewhere but since he had Number Two with him, he thought it best this time. As he closed the garage door a strong gust of wind swept through and blew his hat off his head. He darted for it but the wind pushed it along the dusty ground like a tumble weed. Back and forth he weaved trying to grab it but each time he came within reach another gust would push it further away. Frustrated he cried out, “C’mon damn it!” The hat finally came to a stop. He lunged and snatched it. “Got you,” he said placing the worn and tattered cap on his head. A chill shot down his spine when a stronger gust hit him. He could tell the air temperature had dropped another ten degrees. He craned his head towards the west and saw the black clouds closing in. Soon the precipitation and whatever else would be upon them and with it a massive amount of radiation. He cleared the last feet to the front door, ran inside and slammed the heavy wood door behind him.