Paul Curtin - Gray Snow

Sean appeared from behind the family. His gas mask was bigger, his eyes like coal behind the goggles, reflecting the swaying light in the middle of the room. His breath was more pronounced through the ventilator attached to the mask. What the hell was happening?

“Did you get the radio?” Sean asked.

Michael nodded and extended it to him. The entire scene felt surreal, like the world had gone and changed somehow. He pushed back against the thought. There was no big fire outside. Freak anomalies happen, but there was no need for gas masks. No need for panic. Maybe. God, feeling the panic coming back. “I got the clock for batteries,” he said.

Sean was already loading AA batteries into the radio. “We always have batteries down here,” he said. “There’s no reason they should have been taken out to put in a clock when we have plenty down here.”

No sugarcoating who the comment was aimed at. Elise said, “You kept telling me not to take things from the reserves.”

“I didn’t say take the batteries from the emergency radio. Of all the things to take batteries from.”

“I’m sorry, okay? I made a mistake.”

“We could have been warned hours ago.”

A grunt carried through her ventilator. It occurred to Michael that neither Kelly nor he ever got the Wi-Fi password yesterday. They could have gotten warning without the radio if they had a data signal. Michael said, “Nobody needs to blame anyone right now.”

Sean’s eyes locked onto Michael for a few dragging seconds. Finally, he looked away and loaded another battery. Michael asked, “Why’s everyone wearing a mask?”

“We don’t know what’s going on. Could be an aerosol weapon attack. I don’t know,” Sean said, lodging the last battery into place.

He paused. “So where’s mine?”

Sean stopped. “Yours?”

“Yeah, mine.”

“We don’t have another. I already gave Kelly the one I bought for when Aidan’s older.”

He looked at the others, safe and secure in their masks, shielded from whatever was outside, and he stood there exposed. He felt a cough in his throat. “You don’t have any more masks?” Michael said.

“We didn’t expect to have any more people than this,” Sean said.

“If that shit outside is poisonous—”

“Watch your language in front of the kids.”

“If that shit is poisonous, then you’ve already been exposed.”

Sean stepped back. A static crunching blasted from the radio trying to find a signal. “What are you saying?”

I’m saying give me your mask, you prick. “How is it doing any good if you’ve already been exposed?”

“I have medical masks you can use.”

“Sean, if you’ve been exposed already then you wearing a mask is useless.”

Elise inched into the space between them. “Michael.”

“We don’t even know what’s outside,” Sean said.

“Then why’re you wearing a gas mask?” Michael asked.

“We need to take precautions.”

Elise told Michael, “Just calm down.”

Michael was primed to rip that stupid mask off Sean’s stupid face. He just knew Sean was concealing a smile behind that mask. That’s how Sean was. Always trying to teach a lesson—and, oh boy, was this a good one. Don’t prepare, die first. But Michael wasn’t about to die over a lesson. Not without a fight. “You’re being selfish,” Michael said. “If you’ve already been exposed—”

“Back off .”

“Michael, you’re out of line,” Elise said.

“There’re plenty of medical masks over there,” Sean said, pointing. “Go get one. We don’t have enough gas masks for everyone.”

Michael stepped forward, a second away from lunging at him when a small voice spoke from behind them.

“Take mine.”

Molly had her mask in her hand, extending it out. A few tears rolled off her pale cheeks, and she thrust it closer toward him. “Come on. Take it.”

ELISE COULDN’T SEE his face under the mask, but she heard Sean’s breathing pick up and his horrified yelp. They had spent so much time and energy prepping for a disaster, and now it was here. To see Molly vulnerable to whatever was outside…

“Molls, what are you—? Molls,” Sean said.

“What’s the point of the masks,” Molly said, “if we’re going to kill each other over them.”

Elise sighed. That wasn’t going to happen.

“Please, please put your mask back on,” Sean said.

Molly sniffled. “I’m giving it to Uncle Mike.”

Michael seemed beside himself, his face filled with shame. “I can’t take that from you.”

“But you’ll take it from my dad?”

“I can’t.”

“I’m giving it to you,” she said, her eyes dripping with each blink.

“I’m not taking it.”

Sean stood in front of Molly, his hands on her shoulders, whispering, “Sweetheart, you need to put your mask back on. Please.”

“I won’t take it,” Michael said.

Her bottom lip trembled, eyes toward the ceiling. She set the mask into place and tightened the straps. Sean fell forward and wrapped his arms around her, a sigh escaping from his mask’s ventilator. Elise said a brief prayer for Molly’s protection, hoping she hadn’t hurt herself.

He broke away from her. Sean and Michael looked at one another, saying nothing. Michael soon grabbed one of the surgical masks and then embraced his wife. Kelly pressed her head against his chest.

Sean signaled for Aidan to come closer, and he came and hugged his dad’s leg. Elise watched her husband rub Aidan’s back, his touch so gentle she found her own nerves settling too. It would be okay. They were a family. If they stuck together, they’d make it through.

Aside from a few sniffles and the crackling radio, the cellar was silent. She eyed the supplies. She had been canning and preparing for something to happen for years, but always hoped the day wouldn’t come. Now she wasn’t sure there was enough. She should have listened when Sean said he wanted to buy a freeze-dryer or more supplies. Listened when he said there was never enough.

Sean adjusted the dial on the radio. A modulated signal came through, fuzzy and distorted. He rotated the dial back, and the signal peaked in volume and settled. A computerized voice spoke: “ This is the emergency broadcast system. This is not a test.”

A dissonant tone blared out of the speakers. Again. And again, the sound slamming into her chest each time, shattering any calm she had. It had always been a test. Now it wasn’t. Molly hugged her, Elise pulling her closer.

A sound clicked on the radio like a phone receiver had picked up. The voice came on again. “ This is the emergency broadcast system. This is not a test. Be advised: The Volcanic Ash Advisory Centres in North America have issued an ash advisory across the continental United States. Please remain indoors as inhalation of ash can cause severe respiratory issues.”

“Volcanic ash?” Sean said, the radio shaking in his hands.

“There aren’t any volcanoes nearby, right?” Michael said.

“No. Not at all.”

Elise said, “Then how is this happening?”

Sean hushed them as the radio voice continued: “ Weather patterns are carrying ash over the continental United States. Do not leave your homes. Wait for local emergency personnel for further instructions. This is the emergency broadcast system. This is not a test. Be advised: The Volcanic Ash Advisory— ”

Sean silenced the radio, leaving only the ticking sound of the clock Michael had grabbed. He lifted his mask off his face. Everyone reluctantly followed. He grabbed the medical masks and distributed them. “I think we’ll be fine with just these.”