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

“Tell me.”

He handed me a Polaroid. It was of a cloud—a mushroom cloud.

“This is a fake, right?” I asked.

He shook his head. “No, it’s real.”

“Astrid, did you see it too?” I called out from across the room.

“Oh, the cloud,” she said with a giggle. “It’s just from the bomb that Skeet did.”

Dylan walked over to us and I handed him the Polaroid.

“Skeet’s good, but not that good,” he said.

“It’s part of the film,” the director said, taking his turn looking at the Polaroid.

“It’s fake, as in—like, not real,” Astrid said, picking at her nails.

“But the sirens,” Rodney finally spoke.

“Were part of the film,” the director said.

“But the Polaroid.”

“Come on, don’t be so naive,” Astrid said.

“You’re some dumb rich white girl from London, England, who’s never encountered a real problem in your life. You’re freaking out over your damn nails—” I stopped myself before I snapped.

“Are you insulting me?” she asked. “How dare you?”

Rodney took the Polaroid back. “This is real. This explosion wasn’t just put on—it wasn’t fake. I saw it with my own two eyes.”

Everyone sat around him.

“I was standing on the sidewalk when the sirens went off.” Rodney was shaking and crying, wiping his nose with his shirtsleeve. “But explosions were going off. I had taken my Polaroid camera. It was like the Fourth of July out there. But then it got quiet. A flash of light and then the loudest sound I’ve ever heard. I looked up into the sky and took one photo and ran. I grabbed her arm and ran into the school, down the hall, and down the stairs to here.” He looked at the Polaroid.

“Where’s everyone, then?” Tyson asked.

“Vaporized.”

Everyone was in agreement.

This was real. The bomb was really a nuke. Hollywood wasn’t playing some kind of prank. The cameras weren’t filming, and the lines didn’t call for this to happen.

“Unless—” Freddy said.

Strike that. We weren’t in agreement.

We had been debating how long we had to stay in this fallout shelter, if in fact that explosion wasn’t just regular pyrotechnics, but a genuine nuclear detonation. Yes, as in a nuclear bomb exploding in our backyard. Fallout was radioactive. And we’d been outside. We’d breathed. And drunk. And were covered in radiation.

We were walking time bombs. Maybe it was just a test that went horribly, horribly wrong. Or maybe we were hit. Maybe Russia finally did it. Or maybe we finally did it, and Russia countered. A preemptive strike, to use technical jargon. I imagined missiles in the sky, carrying deadly payloads to their targets. X marked the spot. It was sure to end in thirty minutes or less. Just like Domino’s Pizza.

The FEMA pamphlet said that we were to stay inside for two weeks—but the sign beside the vault door said five days, tops. We decided to make it six just to be safe.

We were probably out of our minds, but we didn’t even know if this was really a nuclear missile exploding, or if Skeet had outdone himself. Skeet was talented. He said so himself. We had no idea if this was war. All we had was a Polaroid of a mushroom cloud in the distance of Main Street.

I think someone would have said something if we were under a nuclear attack. But maybe there wasn’t time. It could have all been movie magic. The makeup department sure did a great job making us look like we were on the brink of death. The makeup on Astrid’s cheeks was peeling.

If Country A launches an atomic bomb at Country B, and Country B counters with an atomic bomb, and Country C inadvertently sets off an atomic bomb at Country D, and Country E becomes collateral damage, what are the chances that citizens of the world realize that the leaders of the world are doing this war scare for propaganda purposes?

Freddy found the potassium iodide tablets tucked in the back of a drawer while we were looking for toilet paper. Let’s just not talk about the bathroom situation. They didn’t mention the bathroom situation smell in the FEMA pamphlet. Thankfully, whoever remodeled this place had the decency to put up a shower curtain, and not one of those clear ones but one of those decorative ones, so we couldn’t see the person do their business, though the sounds were on another level. Radiation didn’t stop bodily functions. In fact, it kind of made them worse, especially when we started adding blood to the equation. So we were happy when Freddy found the potassium iodide bottle.

Unlike the scene in the movie where I died—Helen sacrificed her life for Hank to live—I wasn’t going to make the mistake like Helen did. I was taking the pill.

“Everyone needs to take one,” Freddy said, frowning. “Sadly, there are only nine pills for ten people. Someone will have to sacrifice their life for ours.”

“Dude,” Rodney said, “are you serious?”

We looked at one another and then at the bottle in Freddy’s hand. He shook the pill bottle at us and smiled.

“Should we take a vote?” Astrid asked.

“Are you serious?” I asked.

“I say we let the crippled…” Astrid said, her voice trailing off while looking at Owen.

We all turned to him.

“Even though I can’t see, I can feel all your eyes on me. Am I right?” he asked.

“No,” we said in unison, lying.

“Liars,” he said, crossing his arms.

Someone found a banana and tossed it at Terrence. It was dark, so I couldn’t tell who.

“Okay, that’s racist, and hell, no,” Terrence said.

“Bananas have potassium,” someone said, disguising their voice. “That’s not racist.”

Terrence peeled the banana and ate it. “Oh, that’s racist, but I still want my damn pill.”

“Since you all obviously want a pill, maybe we should—”

“Hell, no, no games, nothing,” Max said, walking up and snatching the pill bottle out of Freddy’s hand. He shook the bottle. It was full. “You are a bastard. A bastard that is most definitely going to hell.”

“Dude, it’s a joke,” Freddy said, laughing.

Terrence grabbed the bottle out of Max’s hand and started handing out pills. When he got to Freddy, even though they were friends, he considered not giving him one, but he did because it was the right thing to do.

Potassium iodide side effects include: stomach or gastrointestinal problems, rashes, inflammation of the salivary glands.

We all had the side effects.

Also to note: there were no plans for what to do with the buckets after they were full.

• nausea and vomiting

• diarrhea

• headache

• fever

• dizziness and disorientation

• weakness, fatigue

• hair loss

• sloughing off of skin

• mouth ulcers

• infections

• low blood pressure

• skin burns

• dehydration

• bleeding from nose, mouth, gums, and/or rectum

We were digging through drawers and found some supplies that made us question our teachers’ extracurricular activities. The condoms were a bit worrisome.