After Mark told his brother, Regis looked as if he not only was in disbelief, but trying to process it.
It was a hard pill to swallow. He was glad his father wasn’t dead, nor was he pissed that he put him through the hell of believing he was dead. Somewhere mid conversation the medication they gave Mark knocked him out cold. At least he thought it was the medication. Mark felt groggy, like in a dream state and three times before he finally passed out, he rambled on about something incoherently.
While out of it, Mark dreamed. Reality had slipped into his dreams. He dreamed of the flight of the characters from the book Alas, Babylon. For some odd reason some actor from an eighties movie made it into his dream and he dreamed of the crash. Only he was stranded in the Andes Mountains. The snow pelted him and Mark walked alone, the actor no longer there. With each step he grew colder and colder. His body shook out of control and ached with every movement. Then the dream ended and Mark woke up.
He had never been hit by a truck, but he suspected that was how he felt. To even move a finger hurt. His head pounded and throbbed, sharp pains shot through his gut, not a part of his body didn’t hurt, he was so overwhelmingly nauseous that he thought he was going to puke up his insides. On top of all that, he was freezing and his body shivered out of control.
He nearly jumped to a sitting position and everything spun around him.
Mark felt horrible.
What happened?
He reached for a blanket thinking he was uncovered, only to discover he had two blankets over him.
His vision was blurry, but he could see. He turned his head to his brother in the next bed. “Is it cold in here?”
“You’re fevered,” Regis said. “So am I. That’s why you’re shivering.”
“How long was I sleeping?” Mark asked.
“About two hours.”
“I’m sorry… I’m sorry I feel asleep on you. We were talking about Dad.”
“That’s okay. I’m still processing.” Regis said, swinging his legs over the bed and sitting up on the side. “Zeke’s here in this bunker. Kit isn’t, but Zeke is.”
“Here? Is he all right?”
“He’s fine. He stopped in. He’ll be back.” Regis spoke slow, almost dragging his words.
“Are you all right?”
“Not really, no.” Regis said. “I’m not feeling my best.”
“Oh my God, Rege. I can’t…” Mark paused. “I’m so cold.” His stomach flopped and he brought his fist to his mouth to stop himself from vomiting. “I feel so bad. I shouldn’t have fallen asleep. I knew the second I relaxed everything would hit me.” He quietly belched, trying to fight the regurgitation reflex. “Like working out for the first time. The second you go to bed, you feel it when you get up. I guess the crash is catching up to us.”
“It’s not the crash. I wish it was. I wish it was sore muscles,” Regis said.
“What do you mean? What else could it be?” Mark asked.
Regis spoke in a humbled manner. “It’s not sore muscles, or post crash injuries. I wish it was. It’s not. I think it’s radiation. We were exposed, Little Brother,” he said. “I think we’re dying.”
GROUND ZERO CITIZEN – Six
It was turning out to be the longest day of his life. Terrence was sure other days seemed longer, but this one was not only long, nonstop, it was torturous and heartbreaking.
Because of the number of women that cared for a child, or elderly in the garage, Terrence led a group mainly of men to drift the cars down to the lower level. Except Keith, his car had keys and wasn’t running when the bombs fell, he drove his car to the second level and parked it across the lot from where everyone else was.
Everyone pitched in salvaging the cars for whatever they could find, then everything was counted. They’d make it work.
Despite how sore he was, how badly his back began to really burn and hurt, Terrence pushed on, trying his hardest not to let anyone know he was less than a hundred percent.
Macy really took her job of organizing the supplies seriously. Mylena and Kira sat with his mother while she did that.
Terrence set up fire cans for the evening, April temperatures tended to drop, but for some reason it wasn’t cold at all, it was warm. Still, he did so for precaution. When he was done he walked over to Macy.
“How’s it going?” he asked.
“Good.” She faced him. “Terrence you don’t look well.”
“I’m fine. Just tired. Do we have a good amount of supplies?”
“Yes. If we ration correctly, even including…” she didn’t say his name, but Macy nodded in a point to the other end of the garage. “…him, we can do well for over a week. It’s water that is a problem. I mean we can ration to the capful, hell, the Chilean minors survived on less… but we’re in a bad situation. People have to wash their hands and face. That’s so important that we don’t add germs and infection on top of it all.”
Terrance ran his hand over his head. “Not like we can run up into the building and turn on the faucet.” He brought his hand down and paused. “Or can we?”
“Do you think the water is safe to drink?”
“No. But there has to be boiler or water heater. That water in there is safe.”
“Can you find it?”
With the utmost certainty, Terrence said, “Yes.” Then walked immediately across the garage to Keith.
“What do you want?” Keith snapped, he apparently was organizing what supplies he had.
Terrence looked down to the measly amount. “Is that all you have for you and your wife?”
“I’m not giving it up.”
“I’m not asking you to. That’s not enough. We have to be down here at least a week and…”
“We’ll make it work.”
“Man, forget your pride, think of your wife. You have to…”
“What do you want!” Keith blasted.
“Is there a basement, or boiler room?”
“What? So you can move everyone in there?”
“No, so we all have water. I want to go check it out. Make sure the intake valves are off and…”
“It’s not your water to take.” Keith cut him off. “You don’t touch it. Also, I want my gun back.”
“You’ll get your gun back when I know you won’t be aiming or shooting at anyone.” Terrence walked away.
As he did, Keith yelled back. “I’ll find it. I’ll get it and when I do, you’ll be the first person I shoot.”
Terrence ignored him. He wasn’t the least bit worried about Keith getting that gun, it was secured in the car that had the supplies. Someone would be on watch. However, he wanted to find that boiler room, or basement.
After grabbing a flashlight, Terrence headed into the stairwell. He knew it was going to be dark, wherever he went, the last time he was on the first garage level it was pitch black. The smoke and debris had blocked out the light. It had been two hours and Terrence didn’t expect it to be any better.
The first stairwell level had no basement door, he climbed up one set of stairs to the first garage level… no door.
He thought maybe it was in the garage or a separate stairwell from the first floor of the building. Hating to go anywhere near the surface, Terrence knew it was imperative that he find the tank and shut of any valves that could bring contaminated water into the boiler or heater.
As he ascended the next flight, he heard it.
At first he thought it was more bombs, then he realized it was thunder. He climbed to the first floor of the building, opened the door and was immediately hit with a temperature change.
Almost like a sauna and the first floor of the office wasn’t pitch black, it had a glow to it.
He would only be street level a moment, what could it hurt and Terrence turned, and walked down the hall, following the glow.