Nuclear Survival: Western Strength (Book 2): Shelter In Place Page 2

  A scuffling noise sounded and Owen’s voice carried from up high. He must have jumped up as soon as Keith agreed. “Same plan we hashed out, right? One person’s house at a time, assess the situation, and then move on?”

  “We haven’t talked about what to do if the roads are impassable.” Jerry voiced the one concern Keith still had. “What if we drive out of this place and chaos is right outside?”

  “Then we go to the first house of ours we can manage to reach, and regroup.”

  They had talked about all of this so many times, Keith knew the details by heart. Jerry lived way up in Altadena, Owen in a crappy house in Burbank that he rented with a pile of roommates, Lainey across town. Keith’s apartment was the closest. “I thought we’d agreed. My place is the closest. We should go there first.”

  “Are you sure it won’t risk more exposure?”

  “No.”

  Lainey spoke up. “If the bomb detonated downtown like we think it did, then Keith’s place isn’t any closer to the impact area than we are here. And it’s farther west. If the winds after the explosion followed their usual eastern route, then the radiation plume probably never reached his place.”

  “But didn’t you clear your place out?” Owen rummaged around, gathering items in the dark as he spoke. “Don’t you already have everything useful in the van?”

  “Everything I could carry. There’s still some food for us, and it’s got a shower, a kitchen, and a bag of kibble for Bear.”

  “And a convenience store on the street level,” Lainey added.

  “I’ve got enough clothes for everyone to change, too.” Keith shook his head imagining Lainey trying to wear a pair of his jeans. “Not that my clothes will fit everyone, but you’re welcome to anything I have.”

  “So we navigate to your place, shower, eat, and then scope out the area? If the store is open, we hit it hard and load up. Then find a gas station and fill the van’s tank.” Owen talked so fast, Keith could barely pick apart the words. “If we’re lucky, we can drop everyone off by the end of the day.”

  Keith shook his head. The kid’s optimism veered into the fantastical. “I think we should plan on spending the night at my place. We don’t want to be driving in the dark.”

  “Why not?”

  “We’ll be a target.” Jerry’s lighter lit up the space behind the defense table where they stored the last bits of water and food. “We need to be careful, watch for looters and desperate people. It’s bound to be a bit crazy. Who’s to say the cops will even be operational.”

  Lainey cleared her throat. “The hospitals are probably overrun. If the police are working, they’ll be managing crowd control. I wouldn’t expect a lot of help on the streets.”

  Keith thought about the statistics in the library book. Millions of people were dying from radiation poisoning all over the city. If the national guard had mobilized would they be patrolling or waiting out the radiation? He hated not knowing what to expect.

  “You really think we need to worry about our safety?” Owen still couldn’t wrap his head around the facts.

  “We do on an ordinary day in LA. Now it’ll be a million times worse.” Keith reached for a blanket and folded it into a square. The gun he lifted off the security guard sat on the ground behind him near his makeshift bed. It had been a long time since he’d fired a pistol, but he could manage.

  They finished packing their meager supplies in silence. Keith thought over the route from Hollywood Boulevard to his apartment at the corner of Wilshire and La Brea, trying to remember the shifting neighborhood and potential hot spots to avoid. The major roads would be the hardest. He had his pick: Hollywood, Sunset, or Santa Monica. All were full of commercial buildings and rife with the potential for looters or rioters or some sort of scene.

  He frowned as he thought it over. The residential area didn’t begin in earnest until south of Melrose. That had to be, what, two miles away? A lot could go wrong in two miles.

  Jerry’s lighter flicked on again by the barricaded door. “Are we ready?”

  Everyone except Keith agreed. He still wasn’t sure. Leaving meant facing the reality of the bomb, mass casualties, and the future of a fractured America. Could he handle it? “Guess I don’t have a choice.” He tugged Bear’s leash and picked his way past the benches to the door.

  With Jerry providing a bit of light, Owen pushed a bench out of the way and reached for the door handle. “Here goes nothing.” He cracked the door open and peered into the hall. “All clear.”

  They eased into the main hallway single file, Jerry leading the way with his pocket lighter. It only took a handful of minutes to reach the parking deck. Keith pushed the metal door open. A rush of cool, stale air smelling of old oil and tires assaulted his nose. “Looks like it’s still secure.”

  “Nice work, Jerry!” Owen clapped Jerry on the back and the lighter guttered.

  Thanks to Jerry’s stint as a commercial garage door technician, he’d not only been able to open the door and get them inside, but shut it securely to keep everyone else out. If they opened it now, their safe little bubble would be gone.

  Bear wagged by Keith’s side, straining on the leash as he mushed toward the van. The dog knew what it meant. Sunshine and blue sky and fresh air. He didn’t understand the risk. Keith opened the back doors and Bear jumped in, fur swiping across Keith’s face.

  He spit out a wad of golden fluff as Lainey eased past him with a laugh. “One of us is ready to go.” She tugged open the passenger side door and climbed in.

  Owen vaulted into the back. “He’s not the only one.”

  Keith climbed up into the driver’s seat and shut the door. He stared out at the little flame of Jerry’s lighter as the older man bent over the manual garage door controls. He leaned closer to Lainey. “Are you sure about this?”

  She shifted beside him. “Leaving? No. But we have to. The courthouse isn’t going to magically fill with food.”

  Keith sighed in reluctant agreement before reaching out and squeezing her hand. “Whatever happens out there, we stick together.”

  She squeezed back. “Agreed.”

  The light disappeared and a moment later, a thick grinding of gears sounded. A shaft of sun grew at the base of the garage door as Jerry cranked it up. Keith stuck up his hand, shielding his eyes from the light he hadn’t seen in days. “Was the sun always this bright?”

  “I feel like a vampire.” Owen crouched in the back, hunched against the glare.

  Jerry clambered into the back and shut the van doors. “Everyone ready?”

  “Only one way to find out.” Keith cranked the engine and the van revved to life. As he shifted into drive, he pressed the gas. The van bumped up and over the entrance and out into the LA afternoon.

  Chapter Three

  LAINEY

  Superior Courthouse Parking Lot

  Los Angeles, CA

  Tuesday, 4:00 p.m. PST

  The van bounced out of the lot and onto the street and Lainey squinted to bring the world into focus. Three days without the sun and her eyes could barely handle the glare. She flipped the visor down and used her hands as blinders, but it wasn’t enough.

  Keith turned onto Hollywood and Lainey thought back to their frantic dash through the traffic when the bomb detonated. It had been bumper-to-bumper gridlock. Where were all the cars now? She leaned toward the passenger-side window, staring at the buildings passing by.

  Iron gates stretched across the main entrance to the Salvation Army. Beside them, a small gathering of people huddled beneath the overhang. Lainey squinted. Was that a family? A group of strangers? One man shifted, pulling apart from the others. He tugged a dirty comforter around his head and shoulders, shielding his face from the sun and Lainey’s stare.

  Homeless? She knew the shelters on Hollywood locked up at night, but during the day, they took all comers. Why not today? Were they at capacity? Overwhelmed? She expected to see volunteers on the sidewalk handing out food and drinks or directing people w
here to go next.

  Lainey cupped her hands around her face but couldn’t get a good look at the downtrodden congregation before they slipped out of view. A production studio took up the rest of the block on the passenger side. Gates blocked the parking lot with heavy metal chains wrapped around the handles. “Where is everyone?”

  Keith shifted in the driver’s seat. “It doesn’t seem right.”

  “The car dealership looks closed, too.” Owen spoke up from the back where he peered out the rear window. From the outside, the KSBF logo wrapped around the sides and rear of the van, obscuring the interior, but people inside could see out. “I don’t think the power is on.”

  Keith confirmed it at the first stoplight. “Nope. It’s off.”

  Lainey frowned, trying to recall the station’s coverage of the last natural disaster to hit the LA area. An earthquake, most likely. Weren’t people always in the streets, milling about after a catastrophe?

  Keith eased through the intersection, glancing left and right for oncoming traffic. Not another car in sight. They passed a few uneventful blocks of closed businesses and empty parking lots until a swell of movement caught Lainey’s eye. She pointed again. “What’s that?”

  Keith slowed. “Looks like a crowd.” His grip tightened on the steering wheel.

  “Maybe there’s an open store,” Owen offered. “If it looks promising, we should park and check it out.”

  “It’s not a store.” Lainey’s hand crept up her neck. “It’s a clinic. Oh... Keith...” Her hand flew out on instinct and she palmed her ex-boyfriend’s upper arm. People crowded around the building, jostling for position on the ramp leading up to the front door. If Lainey hadn’t seen the bright light of the explosion, she would have thought they were extras in a war epic filming at a studio around the corner.

  Oozing sores covered a man’s head. He leaned against the rail, clutching his stomach, doubled over in obvious pain. A woman held a small child in her arms, rocking back and forth. Even from the van’s distance, burns covering the child’s legs stood out in angry relief.

  “Were all these people outside when the blast hit?”

  “They must have been.”

  “But why do they look so sick? We were outside and we’re fine. We’re still miles away from the blast site.”

  “Look around. There’s no power anywhere except for the clinic.” Keith pointed at the wall where a sign glowed red and white against the sterile gray exterior. “They must have a generator.”

  “I think it’s solar.” Owen pointed toward the sign. “There’s a panel on the roof.”

  Lainey squinted, barely making out the black and gray rectangle soaking up the sun. “Would a solar panel keep running even if the clinic weren’t open?” Lainey pulled her lip between her teeth. Of course it would. She counted thirty people crowding the ramp. More waited on the sidewalk and around the corner in the alley. How long had they congregated outside those doors? How long would they stay before giving up?

  “You think they traveled here? Like moths to a flame?” She focused on the sign. Every time she arrived home late, the winged insects would beat about the lights outside her apartment building. All desperate movement with no real purpose. “Why haven’t they given up?”

  “Some of them look pretty rough. Who knows how far they came to get here.”

  “But it isn’t open!” Lainey fell back against the seat in frustration.

  Keith pressed the gas and sped up as they passed the clinic. One man turned as they drove by, hands thrown out, begging. Lainey closed her eyes. They weren’t doctors. They couldn’t help anyone.

  She thought about her broadcast. Had she known the bomb would detonate so quickly after she made it on the air, would she have said the same things? Would she have gone on TV at all?

  Keith’s hand found hers. “Don’t second-guess yourself. What’s done is done.”

  Lainey shot him a glance. “How’d you know?”

  “You look like you’re about to be sick.”

  “I can’t help but wonder if this is all my fault.”

  “It’s not. Most of those people probably didn’t see the broadcast. They were at work or going home or carrying on with their lives. You tried your hardest to uncover the information and put it out there. You did the best you could.”

  Lainey lapsed into silence as Keith picked up speed. Most businesses they passed were gated and locked, with rolling doors shut and no lights on inside. A few blocks west, a cash advance business slumped in defeat. Glass glinted in the afternoon light, little shards sparkling across the pavement. Windows gaped and jawed like monsters ready to swallow up the looters who came and went before Keith drove by.

  The rest of the businesses on the block escaped unscathed. Everything from a wig shop, to a cigar store, to a whole string of bars. They eased into the tourist section, passing by the Dolby Theatre and the Hard Rock Cafe. Tourists usually clogged the sidewalk, snapping selfies and gawking at the buildings. Not today.

  A pharmacy loomed on the corner and a man stumbled out of the broken front doors. He gripped a six-pack of beer in one hand and a bag of chips in the other. Apart from his obvious drunken state, he didn’t appear sick or wounded. At least one person wasn’t dying from exposure.

  Jerry spoke up from the back. “If you turn on Highland, there’s a gas station a few blocks down. One of those twenty-four-hour spots. Might be worth a try.”

  Keith nodded his agreement. “Worth a shot.” He pressed the gas, speeding through the intersections, no longer caring about potential cross-traffic. They hadn’t seen a single car. He turned south on Highland, passing a high school and another production studio. On any other weekday, the area would be teeming with people. Teenagers hanging out, TV crew on their breaks.

  Now they were empty. Desolate. Lainey hugged her arms tighter around her middle and sank lower in the seat.

  “There it is,” Jerry called out as a gas station sign came into view. Keith slowed. No cars in the lot. No obvious signs of power.

  “It looks closed.”

  “We could pull in. Give it a shot. It won’t take more than a few minutes.”

  Lainey leaned toward Keith to read the gas gauge. Less than half a tank. “We need the gas.”

  He slowed the van and turned into the lot, parking at the closest pump. “The displays aren’t on.”

  “Maybe someone’s inside.” Owen shoved the back door open. “I can check it out.”

  Lainey pushed on the door. “I’ll come, too.” She hopped out before Keith said anything. As her feet hit the pavement, she inhaled. Outside air not filtered through the van’s crappy air conditioning system filled her lungs. Post-nuclear-bomb air. It didn’t smell any different than it ever did. She ran to catch up to Owen.

  He yanked on the convenience store door. “It’s locked.” He banged on the glass and shouted. “Hey! Is anyone in there?”

  Lainey stepped forward, dancing on her tiptoes to catch a glimpse of behind the counter. “It’s no use. There’s no one inside.”

  Owen banged on the door again before stepping back. “I’m going around the other side.” He took off, loping to the rear of the store. Lainey hung back, unsure. With locked doors and no visible power, Keith was likely right. The pumps wouldn’t work. Even if they got inside, what good would it do?

  She waited, shifting her weight on her heels until Owen reappeared. He shook his head. “Nothing but a couple of nasty bathrooms. The place is locked up tight.”

  As they stood there, a car eased into the parking lot. Late-model sedan. Single woman driver. She parked at a pump and opened the driver’s door. “Is it open? Please tell me it’s open.”

  Lainey winced. “I’m sorry, but no.”

  The woman shook her head in frustration before smoothing back a mass of brown hair. “I’m on fumes. I’ve got to get some gas and get the hell out of here.”

  She wore jeans, a T-shirt, and sneakers like a million other ordinary people. On any other day, she would hav
e blended into the crowd and been forgotten in a moment.

  Now, Lainey stared, not knowing what to say. The reporter in her wanted to ask about what she’d seen and done and how she’d survived. But was she even a reporter anymore? Was there still a story to chase? She settled on the first question that came to mind. “Are you alone?”

  The woman’s face pinched with suspicion. “What’s it to you?”

  Lainey held up her hands. “Nothing. I just… I wondered what it’s been like the last three days for you, that’s all.”

  Owen reached out and tugged on Lainey’s sleeve. “We should go.”

  She brushed him off. “Anything you can tell me, I’d appreciate.”

  The woman swiveled, eyes locking on the KSBF van. “You want a story, is that it? Some human-interest crap about the end of the world?” She cursed and spittle flew from her lips. “How’s this?” The woman stuck both hands up, flipping Lainey off.

  “I’m sorry, I—”

  Owen tugged Lainey harder. “Let it go.” He pulled her across the parking lot as the woman huffed back to her car. She slammed the driver’s door and took off as Lainey and Owen climbed back inside the van.

  Keith raised an eyebrow.

  “I said the wrong thing.”

  “Did you ask her where else she tried?”

  Lainey jerked her head toward him. “What?”

  “For gas. It’ll save us time if we can cross a few places off the list.”

  Her face heated. “No.” All she’d thought about was the news angle. I’m such an idiot.

  Keith remained silent and turned back toward the windshield. The mood inside the van shifted. Fear and despair pressed in from all sides as Lainey fumbled with her seatbelt. She managed to secure it only after Keith pulled onto the road. No one spoke, all likely suffering from the same worry.

  Only Bear didn’t seem to notice, nuzzling Lainey from his spot behind the console. She rubbed his head as Keith barreled down the road. They turned into the parking garage of Keith’s apartment and he spun the wheel, preparing to turn into a parking space. An older gray SUV occupied the spot and Keith slammed on the brakes, sending Bear sliding into the front.