The Nuclear Catastrophe (a fiction novel of survival) (24 page)

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Authors: Barbara C. Griffin Billig,Bett Pohnka

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The armory was a cavernous building, flooded with lights. Cecil estimated that most of the able-bodied men of the town had signed their names, committing themselves to aid in the rescue effort.


Bubba,

Jake said, nudging Cecil forward,

we got us another volunteer who wants to join us. Sign him up.


Sure thing, Jake,

said the boy with the clipboard.

Howdy, mister. I guess L.A. is going to need everyone it can get once we start rolling, it sure is nice of you to come along, since you

re a stranger in these parts. Uh, you don

t live around here, do you? Don

t remember seeing you before.


Yeager, here, is from just south of Los Angeles, Bubba. He was there when that reactor exploded,

offered the big swaggering man.


Is that right? Jeezus! Why in the world do you want to go back there? If it was me, I

d have kept right on going—as far as I could get,

said the youth.


Bubba, you still got that running-off-at-the-mouth disease. You simmer down some and try to get the vitals from Mister Yeager—we want to be sure he

s present and accounted for when we get up there. Yes sir, we sure don

t want our friend here getting lost in his own home town. Do we boys?

A chorus of assents agreed with him.

Smiling faces acknowledged Jake

s play with the boy and Cecil, and the men edged in closer to hear what was being said.


You got any special kind of work that might be useful in rescue, Mr. Yeager?

asked the youth.

Cecil was cool in his reply.

I

m a chemist, but I doubt you people would have any demands for my skills.


A chemist?

said Bubba,

Gosh, I don

t know much...hey, the high school has a group from their science department that

s going in. Wait a second,

said the boy, as he dashed off toward a knot of men.

In a couple minutes the youth returned with a member from that group in tow. Assured that Cecil would be confronted by someone else, the others began drifting away, losing interest.


You say you

re a chemist, huh?


That

s correct,

Cecil replied to the newcomer.

The man seemed eager to have Cecil a part of his group.

We could rig the apparatus for water-chemistry tests, if you think you could run them, Mr. Yeager. Clean water has got to be found.


I could do that, I guess,

Cecil answered indifferently.


Good. I

ll get the equipment together for you,

said the teacher.


I said I could,

replied Cecil,

but what will you do with the results—once we start recording? We would need to coordinate our findings with other testers. Do you have any plans for doing that?

High school teachers—what do they know, thought Cecil.

The other paused, briefly considering Cecil

s remark.

Oh, well, sure. We

d have to be able to feed our findings to someone, I guess.

Cecil envisioned this shoe-string operation rushing headlong into L.A., with no greater scheme in mind than to simply get there. Once inside, they

d be largely ineffective, perhaps even hampering other efforts.

It

d be a good idea,

suggested Cecil,

if you contacted the national guard in San Diego. They

d line us up with communication points, I

d expect. Then our test results would be of some use.

The teacher was obviously not a thinker.


That

s not a bad idea—as a matter of fact, I

d already considered doing that very thing. Only I was waiting to see if anyone showed up who could do the chemistry part. Of course I

m a teacher myself and could do it, but I

ll have my hands full with other jobs,

he said with importance.

Cecil replied without a trace of interest.

Then we ought to be able to work together.


Right. Say, do you know anything about Geiger counters? I think we can take the school

s along. We

ve one that we use in one of the labs, but we

ve never actually tried it out in the field.

Cecil doubted that the teacher knew anything about the counter.

If it registers radiation in the classroom, it

ll do it on the outside, too.


I

m going to be in charge of this, but I

d appreciate it if you would sort of serve as second in command. Most of the fellows don

t know too much about this kind of maneuver, Cecil.

Annoyed by the other

s attitude of superiority, Cecil asked,

How is it that you know so much about it—were you in the war?

He vividly recalled his own days of action in the war and the long dark months of therapy for shell-shock that had followed.


No, I never made it to the military, but I

ve belonged to the guard for several years, and I

m chairman of my department at school. My principal calls me the best organizer he

s had on the staff,

said the teacher with pride.


Well then,

answered Cecil testily,

you

re certainly equipped to handle this—with all your experience.

The teacher beamed at the double entendre.

Call me Jim. Jim Thompson. There

s no need for mister with me, Cecil. I like to keep it on a casual basis, so long as everybody knows who

s in control.

Cecil took a long leisurely look at Jim. He impulsively noted that this was one character he

d not easily forget, then he began making mental guesses at the age at which the teacher had surpassed his level of competence.

Your group will be moving in with the rest of these fellows, I suppose.


Yes, but we

re not actually in their unit. We

re more specialized,

Jim answered.

Sort of elite, I guess you

d say.


It seems to me that there should be a command headquarters in charge of the entire operation, Jim. Otherwise, how are we going to know which part to enter and what to do?

asked Cecil, showing some interest.

Our rescue squad could easily end up in the same part of the city as another unit, leaving some area unattended.


That

s true,

said Jim.

I think I

ll get right on the horn and check that out. It sure would be a mess if we moved in and another unit piled right in on top of us.

Cecil was left standing alone as Jim hurried off to his errand. He wiped his brow, thinking of the monumental mess this could be.


What do you think it

ll be like up there?


Huh?

asked Cecil as he found a scarecrow of a man at his side. He hadn

t noticed the man before.

Where?


Up there in the big city,

said the other.


Probably chaos and confusion. It

ll be terrible, I

d say.

The beady black eyes stared out from above pock-marked cheeks.

Reckon there

s been much looting?

he asked.


Well, I....sure,

said Cecil.

There

s always somebody who wants something for nothing.


Yeah,

the man agreed.

Reckon there

s been a lot of rape going on, too. What with all those women scared, and not knowing what

s happening.

His voice carried a wistful sound as he stared into an empty transport truck, not meeting Cecil

s gaze.

How do you feel about stuff like that?

asked the scarecrow, giving a leering grin that bared broken, yellowed teeth.


What?

Cecil asked, not at all sure he hadn

t caught the other

s drift.


You know—taking things that other folks have run off and left behind. I mean, they

re not going to use it anymore, so there

s really nothing wrong with hooking onto it, Right?


Personal possessions, things like that?

asked Cecil.


Yeah, that

s it. That kind of junk is bound to be carted off by somebody. The way I figured it, it

s there for the taking. Two good men could make a bundle. All they

d need to do is pack it away in a couple choice hiding places. Before long, they

d get hold of a truck,

he grinned.

Maybe old uncle Sammy

s even, and haul everything out.

Cecil was now fully aware of what was in the other

s mind.

What would you do with it?


Heck, I wouldn't have any problem. I

ve got a shed that

s four walls and a roof, nothing inside. It

d hold a whole truck load of things—a fortune in goodies,

he said, still grinning.


If you got caught, you

d be arrested,

Cecil warned.

You could even be shot for something like that....besides, everything is radioactive.


Oh, I

d have to have a partner—someone who

d keep a lookout for me just as I

d do for him.

The scarecrow looked directly at Cecil.

His intimation was becoming crystal clear. Suspiciously, Cecil said,

You

ve already got somebody in mind.


Yeah. From what I

ve heard, you ain

t too popular around here. Me and you, we could work it as a team....and have a little fun on the side, too. Hell, all those chicks ain

t going to be dead when we get in there.

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