Thanks, Avirra! That was fun!

Much thanks to my beta, Alix33 on whom I rely for opinions when I'm floundering, comments on the story, suggestions and grammatical corrections. You do awesome work, my friend!


Chapter 28

Sheltered, Mid-Week 7 – Week 9 Post Attack, Aug. 18th - Sept. 4th, 2019

Three days after the corn feast there was anticipation in the air when the weather report forecast rain and wind for New Mexico from the North American monsoon. According to news broadcasts, the state of New Mexico was only a few RADs away from where they needed to be to experience the outside world. The shelter residents dearly hoped the storms would help them out.

They'd been inside for seven and a half weeks now and were getting anxious to see the outside world. They'd heard from the water company, who'd refilled their tank and reported that fallout had fallen off and on but hadn't occurred since week 5-post attack.

Sarah and Bec were stoic when told they would probably not be able to join the others outside; with particulates still in the atmosphere, even with reduced radiation their fetuses would be too vulnerable to miscarriage or birth defects. Ellie was also advised not to go. Disappointed but determined to protect their pregnancies, the three women made plans of their own. They might not be able to go outside but the house was still a possibility and they had their own rooms there. Big rooms, with windows. And there were bathtubs with free flowing hot water.

For twelve days, they listened to the local news as the monsoon raged silently above them. While they waited, some folks realized that although they were living in a concrete cave, some things hadn't changed. They were fine using the NoAgua lotion for cleansing and dry shampoo for their hair. However, by this time, most people's hair was starting to look and feel a bit shaggy. The styles of whatever the pre-evacuation hairdos had been were rapidly disappearing, weighed down by new growth, gone straight, curly or horror of horrors, gray roots! Men with comb overs now had bangs; women with short, stylish cuts now had hair over their ears and at their collars, as did many of the men. The kids were all shaggy, even the ones with long hair were badly in need of a trim. Luckily, Aunt Cissy and Uncle John had owned and operated a "His and Her" salon for many years and were prepared to help their shelter mates. As Trish and Ali worked in the shop many times, they were now drafted as additional staff.

One weekend morning when the general population wandered into the kitchen for breakfast and/or coffee, they found sign-up sheets for haircuts on the community bulletin board. One for the men and boys over three, one for the women and girls over three and one for the toddlers. And joy of joys, the cuts would include a hair wash, with water! Cissy and John came well prepared, they'd brought enough water to wash everyone's hair a couple of times. With the solar panels providing plenty of power and the generator as backup, there were no worries about power usage.

Rather than heat water in Elaine's big pots on the stove, they diverted the hot water hoses from four of the washers and set up a make-do washing station there. With so many heads to wash and hair to cut, it wasn't going to happen in one day, so they spread the appointments out over a week with ten people a day. That way laundry could also be done.

Ali and Trish manned the hair wash station and their shelter mates giggled and then laughed aloud at the happy noises people made while having their hair washed.

The Bishops made sure their first customers were a mixture of adults and kids. That would help if any of the children were nervous or frightened. The toddlers were curious. They watched their daddies' hair being cut before climbing on their laps for their turn. Lia, Ricky, Zach, Zoey and Arin really just needed a bit of trim and shaping and that's what they received. When they were done, the littles chortled happily when given baby-sized lollypops, with parental permission of course.

Ellie wanted Tim's hair at its current length so Uncle John trimmed it a bit but didn't take any deep cuts. Tim wasn't sure he liked it and had John to cut it a little shorter. He figured that was a compromise. When they were out of the shelter and back to work, he'd have it cut shorter again.

By Monday when classes resumed, the kids' hair was neatly trimmed and their instructors were stylin'. Due to the laundry needs of the parents of young children, the 'salon' was open only for manicures and pedicures that day. When the Rourkes heard the plan they nixed the idea of those happening anywhere near the kitchen or dining area. Manicures and pedicures means nail polish and nail polish remover and the cooks did not want the kitchen and dining area to smell like anything but the feasts they made. The next best area would be the tunnels but not the basement tunnel, still too close to the kitchen. So the salon moved into the main entrance tunnel with fans blowing as more than a few people weren't crazy about nail polish fumes. Tim smiled when he heard - that was one thing that didn't trigger his asthma. He didn't like the smell but at least he could breathe through it.

With the washing machines busy with baby diapers and clothes, warm water for the salon had to be heated on the stove or in the microwave and lugged out to the tunnel. Cissy, John and their helpers made it through their appointments but decided to postpone any more mani/pedi appointments until they could leave the shelter. Even the basement of the house would be better than the tunnel!

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When the monsoon finally moved north, Ducky insisted on being the one to read the air quality and check for radioactivity in the basement of the house. He'd collect a sample of the air and soil that he and Tim would test. If everything tested at safe levels in the basement, they'd run a test on the main level and then again on each level of the house. Venturing outdoors would have to wait.

Although his numbers had remained clean after he'd delivered Toni Ware to the extraction team, nobody was willing to risk the good doctor's health again. That was a problem as he and Tim were the only ones who knew what to do and nobody was willing to risk Tim either. Colonel Barnes, Grandpa Mac, and Gram Maisie were eager to suit up to run the tests; after several rather heated discussions, Ducky and Tim taught them how to use the monitor and capture the samples. The readings would automatically be saved so other than remembering how to get the readings and the samples, the trek would be simple. The Colonel, Mac, and Maisie drew numbers and the Colonel 'won', which cheered him immensely.

They ran through procedures, Geo helping the Colonel with the suit and the breathing apparatus; he slipped a pair of crime scene booties on over the man's boots and he was ready to go. Walking through the tunnel, he stopped on the shelter side of the airlock hatch to set down a bag of items he'd need on his way back.

The tunnel was divided into multiple parts. From the basement, there was what they called the 'outer hatch' that led into the tunnel. Immediately inside were several feet of space they called 'no man's land' as it wasn't necessarily safe. That led to the airlock hatch and the area behind it, the longest stretch of the tunnel, led to another door. This long stretch was where Jethro set up his workroom; his workbench and wood scraps were still there. Toni Ware had also occupied the space. Storage cabinets and some of the too-big dressers held canned goods; a few odd sized items were also stored in this portion of the tunnel. And that final door, usually locked only at night, led directly into the shelter.

The Colonel released the airlock and from there it was a short walk through 'no man's land' to the outer door and into the basement. He smiled behind the faceplate as he stood on the dirt, terra firma at last! He pressed the right buttons on the monitor and the radiation count was recorded. He did a second reading with the monitor at ground level, closer to the air the children would breathe. Both readings were automatically saved.

Then he took out one of the transfer pipettes, he thought of it as a very small baster, for the air sample and inserted the sample into a clean phial, wrapped in plastic, remembering to cap it again before he wrote the location and date on it. Following a similar procedure, he obtained a soil sample.

Re-entering the tunnel, he stopped in 'no man's land' to wipe down the phials, the transfer pipettes, the monitor, his suit, face mask and breathing apparatus with clean wipes, leaving the plastic wrap, used wipes and his crime scene booties behind in a Hazardous Waste container. He used more wipes to open and shut the airlock hatch and then stripped out of the radiation suit, boots and gloves, wiping the boots and his hands again before donning another pair of disposable gloves he'd left here along with a pair of sandals. Finally, clad in walking shorts and a tee shirt, carrying the boots, the monitor and the samples, he left the suit to be cleaned later and knocked on the door of the shelter. He handed off the monitor to a gloved Admiral Crane and the test tubes of air and dirt to Ducky, also gloved. Once in his room, he cleaned up using copious amounts of the NoAgua lotion. He dressed and exited to find his son-in-law waiting for him with the other monitor. His numbers were as clean as Ducky's had been but he'd also be tested daily for a few days.

When they'd taken all the precautions possible, the monitor readings were checked. The numbers were good, both the ground level and at the Colonel's height; there was less radiation in the basement than would be present in an X-ray. If the air also tested safe, they'd test the stairs and then the main floor of the house. It wasn't much yet, it wasn't the outdoors but it was the beginning of their return to the outside world. Tim and Ducky tested the air in the test tube and found it stale as expected, but checking it against the basement 'before' sample, found it no more polluted or radioactive than it had been before they moved into the shelter. The soil test took a little longer but it too compared favorably to the 'before' soil sample Tim took on their way into the shelter the day of the attack.

They'd conducted the tests in the tunnel, wanting privacy and emerged to find the entire population waiting for them. They grinned, "RADs in the basement are below X-ray level and the air is the same as the day we moved in here. The soil in the basement is the same as pre-attack."

There was more to say but they were interrupted by cheers. Waiting for quiet, Tim continued, "The next step is testing the main level of the house. But we need to wait at least three days to make sure the Colonel's numbers stand firm before we send anyone else up."

Ducky took the next bit, "As we've said before, anyone pregnant runs the risk of miscarriage or birth defects from fallout when venturing outside. And when we do go outside to test, the numbers will again have to be taken twice, once at the tester's height and again at ground level. Let me explain: fallout that is particles of radioactive dust, soot, pollution, what's also referred to as particulate matter, has fallen to the ground. We send a 6 ft. person to test the radiation levels and the monitor tests the air at the level at which it's being held and within a fixed range. The radiation levels are just fine at 5'8", thank you, but not all of us are that height.

"Radiation levels are much higher closer to the ground and on the ground where it settles. We have to be very careful how we go about determining what is safe and for whom. That's why we'll be doing additional extensive testing. And it will take time. Every test requires a waiting period to ensure the tester's numbers are clean. It may not be strictly necessary, but our scientists and we doctors all feel it should be done.

"This may be the most difficult part of our time here, waiting for tests and more tests. Please dig deep for the patience we all need; we've only just started our return journey to the outside world. And we may continue to sleep and eat in here for several months, possibly through the winter. Our air is clean in here, our food uncontaminated and we have plenty of it. The water company will continue to refill the tank with water that has been protected from fallout. Our children will be safer as will our developing fetuses."

Then he laughed as everyone was still grinning at him. "Yes, I see your happiness and share it; this is cause for celebration!"

Several folks were already pulling out cups and bottles of the sparkling beverages they saved for special occasions.

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Pete watched the others celebrate and he toasted along with them. But he wondered how long it would be before he could return to his own home, so close, and rejoin the world, as changed as it was for him personally. His wife was still in a psychiatric ward. Although she responded well to medication, they'd been unsuccessful in moving her to a step down unit and he had no idea if she'd ever be well enough to leave the hospital. The DA had contacted him, letting him know they were filing charges of assault under special circumstances and a public defender would be appointed. It was the lowest charge they could bring against her for her actions and the special circumstances, living in a bomb shelter with her medical condition, according to Ali, their resident estate attorney and the research she'd done online, almost guaranteed there would be no jail time. She'd likely be placed on a conditional long-term parole with frequent and random blood tests to ensure she continued her medications. He was still working to accept the fact that she'd hidden her problems from him and their children for more than thirty years. No matter how he tried to justify her actions, she'd lied to them all. He was angry, hurt, frustrated, sad and scared. He still had not contacted his children to let them know what happened. No one here could really understand.

Except there was. Jethro's wife may not have hidden a medical condition or lied to him but he'd been lied to about her and Kelly's deaths. For twenty-five years, he had been allowed to mourn. He was still angry with Mike Franks and the Marshals Service in general. He understood protection but he didn't understand why he hadn't been allowed to join them in the program. There were numerous times, beginning with his return from Kuwait after they'd 'died', when he could have been taken to them. Or after his return from Columbia, when he was still on medical leave. Or even years later when he'd fled to Franks' beach after the explosion that wiped his memory. And their last chance, when he'd been swept into protection with Tim and the kids. They'd been close, got the name right but that was it.

So he was able to commiserate with his friend Pete and the man felt a little better for having someone around who understood. It helped.

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In general, the group had maintained a sense of humor, less a few lapses, and joked when the three day wait for the Colonel's numbers to be finalized seemed to last as long as the previous 8 weeks. Finally, the doctors proclaimed the man's good numbers finalized; they were ready for the next test.

While they waited, September birthdays were celebrated, including Lia's 1st, Tyler's 7th, Jethro's and Ducky's, the latter two declining to state their ages.

Lia's birthday was fun as she smooshed her little mouth into her cupcake, squealing with glee. Her parents had gifts they'd brought with them and she had as much fun with the wrapping paper as she did with her new treasures. She had a new bright red sweater from Nonny, new pink and green striped leggings from Grandma and a pretty purple swirly top, from Gram Maisie, with a big '1' appliqued onto it, all three handmade.

Poppy, Grandpa Mac and Grandpa Jerry worked together to make the birthday girl a combination toy, commercially called "My Busy Town™" a large wooden wood cube with 5 sides of activities. Those included curvy bead mazes, peek-a-boo-doors, spin and match animals, turn and learn ABC tiles and racing vehicle rollers. When Tim mentioned during one of the warehouse trips that he and Ellie were taking Lia and Ty's birthday presents with them, Jethro thought that was a good idea. Shannon and he did some research online, decided what they wanted to give Lia for her first birthday but realized there wasn't time to make it. In the meantime, they brought the Bishops in on it. Jerry and Jethro split the list of components they'd need and did some quick shopping before they left for the shelter. They worked on it in the tunnel while the kids were in school. As the plain wooden box was painted a bright green and started to look like something, it was hidden under Jethro's workbench, a sheet 'sacrificed' to cover it.

Granducky gave Lia a children's book of poems, one that had been given and read to him as a young child. He'd included a note in the front of the book with her birthdate and that it was for her on her first birthday from her Granducky, Donald Mallard. That note was just below the note from his own grandfather; it had also been a birthday present for him when he was a year old. Each of his grandchildren had received a book similar to this, with the original inscription to Donald; he already had two picked out for Ricky and Little Mac and brought several extra, just in case. Luckily, the Mallards were great lovers of books and young Donnie had an extensive library of his own by the time he learned to read at the tender age of 4.

Tyler had three parties, one in class with a cake baked by his father, decorated by his mother, the second with Poppy, Granducky and the other September celebrants at dinner, with cupcakes. His siblings, grandparents, aunts and uncles gathered in the library on his and Poppy's actual birthday, watching the two opening their gifts. Ty's favorite gift was a boxed set of Adventure books titled "Choose Your Own Adventure". The clever author started the stories and then left it up to the reader to fill in what happened in them. Tyler had his father's imagination and was already writing bits and pieces of things in his journal. Another gift was a set of 3 journals. Each book had pages at the front and back to help with ideas, spelling, grammar and many enticing blank pages in between.

He also loved the sweater and shirts his grandmothers and aunts made him. The ladies figured they had two or three more birthdays before he'd stop loving gifts of clothes quite so much. Another favorite gift was a 705-piece kit of 8" straws and connectors with which Ty could build a tower, house, rocket, car, bridge. The possibilities seemed endless and the game came with a list of ideas. Wisely, his parents held onto the toys with smaller pieces or that needed more space until Christmas when they'd be out of the shelter.

One of the rules quickly made in the shelter was that the kids' toys had to remain in the playroom; to that end, each family had a storage tote (or three) in the playroom, marked with their surname and all toys were put away before bed. Every night. Almost every night.