Linda Andrews - The Meltdown

“‘Kay.” She shrunk back down but her hand gripped the teddy bear’s.

They’d be okay. He’d make sure they’d be okay. Whatever it took. They braked at an intersection and turned left, heading for two bat-shaped three-story buildings. The hair on his neck rose as he scanned the area. What was pinging his ‘oh shit’ meter?

“Falcon?” He had to be missing something, but what? His senses sharpened. Rows of black birds studded the field of skeletal towers. A Burgers in a Basket hamburger wrapper flapped against a curb. Private vehicles decomposed slowly in faded parking spots.

“Copy that,” Falcon whispered. “Despite the lights there’s too damn many shadows.”

As they coasted past an arrow-shaped parking lot, he caught motion from the corner of his eye. “Ten o’clock. The camera moved.” He slapped the steering wheel. The impact rattled up his arm. “Someone is tracking our movements.”

Brainiac snorted and led them through the parking lot toward a pill bug-like buildings. “They’re probably motion activated. Man, are you paranoid.”

“Doesn’t mean someone’s not out to get us,” Falcon answered. “You know where you’re going, B?”

Driving with one hand, he kept the gun in the other. This corridor was the perfect place for an ambush.

“The generator rooms are next to the reactors.”

Like that helped. There were buildings all around the damn domes. “Can you be a little more specific?”

Brainiac pulled the truck to a stop near a black rectangle. “Not until I check it out.”

“Well, hell, I need to stretch my legs anyway.” Falcon spoke just at the lights on the tanker died. “How’re the munchkins, Papa?”

Parking behind the squid, he glanced in the back seat. Toby slept on but tremors rippled through the wide-eyed girls. “Holding up.”

“We’re going to need you for this jaunt.” Falcon appeared at the back of the truck.

“Roger that.” Killing the engine, he released his seatbelt and twisted on the seat. He tucked the blanket around Olivia’s shoulder. “I’ll be right back. You’re safe for now, but I think you should keep low until I get back.”

“Will you come back?” A single tear skipped down Olivia’s cheek.

“I promised to take you to the soldiers and I will.” He swept a blond strand off Jillie’s forehead. “I never break a promise. Now be good and I should be back in a few minutes.”

“You’ll leave the light on?” Jillie bit her knuckle.

“You bet.” He stepped out of the car. A beep warned him of the light but he shut the door anyway. Gun in hand, he joined Brainiac and Falcon by the tanker. “What’s the plan?”

“They alright in there?” Falcon jerked his head toward the Toyota.

“Toby’s sleeping. Olivia and Jillie are scared but keeping it together for each other.” He stood a little straighter. No whining or wailing from his girls.

With his M-4, Brainiac pointed to the boxy building in front of them. Two round tanks separated it from the dark rectangular pool they’d parked alongside. “I think this is the generator room.”

Falcon checked his gun. One in the chamber. “Let’s check it out.”

The former Green Beret took point. Papa Rose scanned the road. Nothing moved in the light puddles. Pivoting, he jogged behind B. His attention never rested any place too long. His stomach cramped. Both of them were expendable, this was Brainiac’s show. He hoped the squid gave a command performance.

They quickly arrived at a plain steel door with a black access panel beside it. A diamond with colors and numbers was screwed to the wall next to a red box marked emergency phone .

“I was right.” Brainiac pumped the air. “This is the generator room.”

“How can you tell?” Papa Rose eyed the camera staring at him from the corner. His finger twitched on the trigger. Someone had to be behind it, watching them. But why weren’t they confronted when they entered the site?

B tapped the red number. “Flammable not radioactive. They have to be inside.”

Falcon worked a pinch of white explosive in between his fingers. “Let’s have a look.”

“Don’t move! Or I’ll kill us all.” A male voice blared around them before disintegrating into a cough.

“What the fuck!” He aimed at the double headed speakers hanging a foot over the door. Brainiac hadn’t been the only one to be right. They weren’t alone.

B turned toward the camera and slung his M-4 on his shoulder. Cupping his hands around his mouth, he yelled. “We’re here to help. We have fuel.”

“I can’t hear you, you idiot.” The man managed between coughs.

“Papa.” Falcon jerked his head toward the phone box.

Since when had he been knighted the great communicator? Lowering his gun, he ripped open the box and lifted the headset. The plastic was cold against his ear. The phone rang once. Twice.

“Dying of radiation exposure is very nasty. First you—”

“I’ve already gotten the Cliff Notes,” he snapped. “Doctor Mavis Spanner sent us. We picked up some fuel to keep the generators running so everyone can get to safety?”

“Fuel? Fuel!” the man shrieked. “I’ve got fucking fuel! It’s water I need. Water! In eighteen hours, the first spent fuel rods will be exposed to air and then everything will glow for thousands of years!”

Mavis’s stomach jumped into her mouth. Whoa! She clawed at the ‘oh shit’ handle above the rear door and jerked upright in her seat. Humvees weren’t supposed to move sideways. After swiping her hand over her mouth to wipe away any drool marks, she peered out the window. Headlights shimmered on Fossil Creek. Rain snaked down her window and drummed on the metal roof.

“The river’s running pretty high.” Black currents sucked at the sandy banks and white foam swirled on the wide, usually placid water. Stubby blades of grass bobbed on the waves. The sand bar on the left had completely disappeared.

“Current’s strong.” David didn’t glance at her in the rearview mirror. Muscles flexed in his jaw and under his tee-shirt as he manhandled the steering wheel.

The back of the Humvee swung to the left. Shrubs clawed at the side. She tightened her grip until her fingers began to feel numb. “It’s been raining all day, but I didn’t expect this.”

Hadn’t taken the rain into account in her bug out plans. Or the snow being reported at higher elevations. Her three day trip was beginning to seem ridiculously optimistic. Good thing she’d asked Papa Rose, Falcon and Brainiac to buy her four days.

General Lister reached for her abandoned cup of coffee. He sniffed it then drained the last couple of sips. “Rain’s a nice break from the sandstorms and blistering heat of the Middle East, isn’t it, Sergeant-Major?”

“Yes, Sir.” The tires dug into the blacktop and the vehicle shot forward. Headlights illuminated the break in the trees and shrubs lining the creek bank.

Light shone inside the vehicle as the personnel carrier behind them entered the water. He didn’t veer off course or fishtail. Perhaps the heavier vehicles would be okay.

One by one, Mavis pried her fingers from the handle. Pins and needles crept along her skin. She might have overreacted a smidge. “It’s not the rain that’s the issue. We’re traveling through washes and unmaintained roads.”

Lister grunted over the squeal and thump of the wiper blades. Part of the dry-rotted rubber flopped over the glass with each swish. “They couldn’t slow us down any more than stopping for all those civilians. Besides, we’ll be on state roads soon. Smooth sailing all the way to Colorado. Should be snug in a mine shaft by this time tomorrow.”