The thought of escaping the confines of the shelter, even for a short time, was a definite morale booster for them all, but particularly Maile. For her there had been the fearful possibility that they would never leave their hideaway, but that gloomy thought had suddenely been dispelled. If they were going outside, there had to be hope. "Dad, do you think Jason's alive?" "That depends. If he went home after he dropped you off and if Honokaa wasn't a target or if it didn't get hit by drifting radiation, then he could be fine, if people remained calm and there's food. Don't they have a garden?" "Yes." "Well, his chance could be fairly good." "When can we get into Honokaa?" Maile asked with unconcealed hope that it could be done soon.. "Well, we'll take it in stages. First we'll see what our immediate situation is. Then we'll check Paauilo, then Honokaa. How's that?" Eric responded. :Hopeful," Maile smiled faintly. Following breakfast, each Payne began chores that had been repeated daily from the time they had entered the shelter. Kawena turned on the small black and white television, waited for it to warm up, then dialed the channel selector, but founf only the same unchanging snow at each stop. The remote camera concealed in an unremarkable oile of rubbish above the shelter entrance no longer worked, so she didn't bother to switch it on. Maile's responsibility was the dosimeter's reading. Its sensor was located outside the shelter and provided a better reading in a large open area than did a geiger counter. Like her sister, Maile noted her findings in a log book. While the sisters were so occupied, Cheryl recorded that the steady Hamakua winds were driving the wind generator sufficiently to keep the batteries charged. In the meantime, Eric had passed his daughters' cubicle and stepped through a door into the "garden". The " garden" was an area outside of the man-made shelter, but still underground. When Eric had founf the ancient lava tube on their property, he had quickly realized that this was a natural place to locate the shelter he wanted. A six-footer could walk upright through most of its length with room to spare. The moist dark walls had leain undisturbed since their formation centuries before from a fiery lava flow off Mauna Kea's flank.. Eric had constructed the shelter while maintaining as much of the tube's integrity as possible. This had slowed the work some as it forced them to move materials through a rather small opening. In the long run though, it was felt that thei decision reduced the chances that outsiders would discover the shelter. The are of the tube not needed for living quarters became known as the "garden" and served several purposes. While nothing grew there, it became a repository for building supplies that might be needed once they emerged. In the farthest recess of the tube was a Clvus latrine that had been modified to fit the tube. Also in the garden were ten fifty-five gallon drums. Eight of these were still full of water. However, the garden hadn't been named as such because of any of the aforementioned iteam gathered there. The origin of it's name lay in the knowledge that even though they were a family, living in a confined space for a protracted period of time could produce frictions. The garden was an escape. Had there been more time, Eric had planned to spray paint the tube's cailing blue and add some clouds and artificial plants to simulate the out of doors. This had not been a priority and ended up a victim of man's rush to Armageddon. Using the geiger counter, Eric checked the radiation levels throughout the garden, which was a concern since the tube had a natural air flow. Although this was filtered, it was the most obvious entry point for radiation into the shelter. This day the reading s continued to be normal. Finished with the garden, Eric made a sweep of the shelter, then the corridor leading to the outside exit. Again, everything was normal. Satisfied, he retraced his steps to the main room. "Okay, how do we stand? Television?" "Nothing. No change." "Maile?" "The count is well within the safe range. Lower than yesterday by a little." "That's good news!" Eric beamed. How's the power?" "We're doing fine," Cheryl smiled. "GREAT! The garden is clean for anyone headed that way." "Thank God!" Kawenna hammed, hurrying towards the Clivus. As they chuckled, Eric reminded trhem as he did daily over the past dozen days to check their stations every hour. With that reminder, the family settled into a routine they had rehearsed prior to and followed religiously for the duration of their enforced stay. It involved continued education in survival sckills, identifying edible local flora, discussing various topics as a group, leisure reading and chores. The idea was to fill their time, to avoid restlessness: as well as, to prepare themselves for a variety of possibilities when they emerged. The latter was a process that had begun several years earlier when they had decided to become survivalists Although they didn't know what would confront them down the line, they were all happy to be alive, well provisioned and together. The world outside, they knew, might be violent. That had been graphically illustrated day two of the aftermath, Maile recalled as she watched the rest of her family become involved in the routine. It was shortly after lunch that day when Cheryl had seen Maile tense slightlu. "What is it honey?" "I felt a vibration. There! There it is again. Did you feel that?" "Yes. Kawena," Cheryl spoke calmly, "would you call Dad in here for me please?" Kawena put down her worn Harlequin romance and went to the garden door to summon Eric. "What's up?" he asked as he stepped into the room. "I felt a vibration," Maile informed him. "I did too," Cheryl confirmed. "Okay, let's check it out. To you stations. Kawena, let's see what we have on the screen." The initial blankness of the small screen slowly gave way to a steadily clearing picture. There in the driveway beside their Blazer was parked a light colored van with no commercial markings No one recodnized it. "Who is it?" Kawena asked. "Can't see anyone yet. Maile, what's your reading?" "It's just below the danger level." |