Amy Brashear - The Incredible True Story of the Making of the Eve of Destruction

HELEN lays her head on HANK’s shoulder.

HELEN wasn’t supposed to come to this shelter. HANK invited her. There are only enough supplies for a certain number of people. HELEN doesn’t even have a gas mask.

HELEN fixes his bandages over his eyes.

There is only one potassium iodide tablet left. It is supposed to help against radiation poisoning. HANK has given the pill to HELEN, but she is unwilling to take it. She loves him so much.

HELEN lifts the bandages off HANK’s eyes and looks at his dead eyes. She moves his head to face hers.

HANK smiles.

HELEN kisses him. She holds the tablet between her fingers. They stop kissing.

HANK brushes the hair behind her ear with his fingers.

HELEN kisses him again, and when she stops for a second, she pops the tablet into his open mouth.

HANK starts to spit the tablet out, but she puts her hand over his mouth.

HANK nods and swallows.

HELEN and HANK kiss.

HELEN fixes HANK’s bandages over his eyes.

HELEN snuggles up against him, her breath shallow. She closes her eyes and waits to die.

“I’d like to say this is garbage. I really like you, Owen, but I would have taken the pill,” I said.

He laughed.

“I’m not joking,” I said. “When the apocalypse does come, I hope that you do realize, in life-threatening situations, we girls don’t always think of the cute boy.”

“Thank you, Gloria Steinem Junior,” the director said, clapping. “I think that was the best dying scene I ever filmed.”

“Thanks, I think.”

“Now can we get off this damn mountain?” Dylan said.

“Yes,” we said in unison.

We packed up the few belongings we had and exited the cave. The fireworks had stopped and it was eerily quiet. And dark, really dark. It was way too early for the sun to be setting.

“Let’s get back to Griffin Flat before it gets dark. Have we been here that long?” Freddy asked, looking at his watch. “Ten- ten. My battery died.”

The keys were in a whole lot of brush along the side of Crow Mountain. And no one was willing to risk their lives to go get them.

“I know the Wright family is down getting nuked on Sixth Street, I know they have an extra car, and I know where they keep the key,” Max said.

“What kind of car?” Freddy asked.

“It goes vroom-vroom beep-beep. What more do you need to know?”

“How far?”

“A good mile and a half.”

Everyone growled.

Dylan handed Tyson his camera. “I’ll try to hot-wire the bus,” Dylan said.

“Why did you wait until now to say something?” the director asked.

“We were about to hike it to the Wrights,” Terrence said.

“Hike?” the director said.

“Ugh, do you want me to do it or not?” Dylan asked.

We nodded.

We watched him do what we’d all seen in movies or on TV shows. He removed the panel and tried manually turning the ignition switch with a screwdriver, and surprisingly it worked.

“Good, I don’t have to strip wires to hot-wire,” Dylan said, sitting in the driver’s seat. “I’m guessing you want me to drive too.”

“No, no, I’ve got it,” the bus driver said, wiping his mouth on his sleeve. “I’m the only one sober to drive.”

The bus didn’t have quite the power it did when we’d arrived on the mountain, but we had the downward momentum and just coasted until we reached the bottom. We turned on the interstate and headed back to Griffin Flat.

Interstate 40 was deserted. There were no automobiles or semis. It was strange. It felt strange. The air was thick with dust, and the bus driver had to turn on the fog lights.

Everyone was quiet and looking out the windows. The trees had been stripped of their leaves and bark. And huge areas where trees once stood were now barren.

“Where’s your camera, Dylan?” the director asked. “We need to get this on tape. It would be perfect as transition material.”

“How did Skeet do this?” I asked.

“Don’t you understand how this works?” Dylan asked.

“Apparently I don’t. Because it looks like he blew up half the state.”

“Well, of course it does. He’s the best in the business,” the director said.

The bus driver used the windshield wipers to clear away the black soot.

Dylan grabbed his camera and went to the bus steps. He pried open the door as we drove down the interstate—the only one—and filmed the desolate wasteland that was known as Central Arkansas. The smell of rotting trash filled the bus. We covered our noses with our jackets. Like that did any good.

“Guys, my eyes,” Owen said, leaning his head up against the seat in front of him.

“Can you please stop your complaining? I’ve lost three teeth. Do you understand how much time that is going to take to get fixed?” Freddy asked, climbing on his seat to turn to stare at him.

“Wow,” Max mouthed, looking at me from across the aisle. “You made out with him.” He smiled. “Yeah, you did.” He held out his hand for a high five. “Don’t leave me hanging.”

I slapped his hand away.

A bloodcurdling scream echoed throughout the bus and made the bus driver swerve. It knocked me against the window and made Terrence hit his chin on the seat back. And Dylan almost went splat on the concrete highway as we zoomed at a respectable seventy miles per hour.

“What the hell?” Tyson said, looking at Owen.

I made my way up the aisle and almost lost my lunch. Terrence did. He had a weak stomach.

“My eyeball just fell into my lap,” Owen got out, whimpering.

“That’s not normal,” Freddy said.

“We need to get him to a doctor,” I said. “Keep going to Conway. Don’t stop in Russellville. For the love of God, don’t stop in Russellville.”

The bus driver pressed on the gas, and he topped the max speed for a yellow school bus, which was eighty.

“Going to die, we are, hmmmmmmmm,” Max said in his Yoda voice.

“I’m fine,” Owen said. “I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine,” I said.

“That’s not an eyeball,” Freddy said, picking up the so-called eyeball. “It’s just a bloody, balled-up bandage.”

Max went up to Owen’s seat, lifted the bandage, and poked him in both eyes.

Owen screamed.

“I’m not a doctor, but I can say with certainty that you still have both eyes,” Max said.

“That hurt, asshole.”

“Yeah, but it’s better to know, right?”

Owen closed his eyes and leaned his head back on his seat.

“False alarm. We don’t need to go to the hospital,” Freddy said. “He’s still got both eyes.”

“I still can’t see a damn thing,” Owen whispered.

“Well, don’t worry, neither can I,” the bus driver said, turning into the right lane.

We were almost home.