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radio squealed and instructions on how to build expedient fallout shelters was given. He didn’t hesitate. He got up from his desk at work, put his head in his boss’ office and said, “I’m out of here. I suggest you duck and cover. I’ll check in after this is all over.”

Sam Smith just looked at Hank blankly. Hank shook his head and ran for his Suburban. He had taken to carrying a lot of cash stashed on his person and in the Suburban, with the intent to pick up last minute items in case the worst happened.

Thinking about it for merely seconds, upon seeing the crowds rushing into the store he was stopping at, Hank turned around and headed home at the fastest speed that was safe. There were already people from the cul-de-sac heading for the shelter.

Thinking of the four families living in other areas of the development, Hank thought for another couple of seconds, ran down the steps into the basement and grabbed what he considered his combat gear, and went back upstairs.

He thought about taking the Suburban down to the gate, but quickly dismissed that idea. It was better off inside the garage. Hank broke into a shuffling run and made it to the gate in a couple of minutes. A resident was just pulling up. It was Elizabeth. Her eyes wide, she looked at the heavily armed Hank, then used her card key to open the gate. She drove through without a word to Hank.

There was a steady stream of residents returning to the cul-de-sac. Then the first non-member of the group pulled up to the gate. “Let me in! I know you have a big shelter!”

Hank didn’t have time to think about it. When the man thrust a pistol out of the driver’s window Hank automatically dropped the muzzle of his PTR-91 slightly and pulled the trigger. The round went through the window opening and struck the driver in the throat. The pistol dropped from his left hand as both hands went to his ruined throat.

Hank stood there in shock for over a minute. But then Juan drove up in his construction truck. Juan went pale despite his dark complexion when he got out of the truck and ran over to Hank, catching sight of the blood spattered inside of the windshield of the car blocking the way.

“Come on, Hank, my friend! Snap out of it! Help me push the car…”

Hank shook his head, as if shaking off a heavy load, and ran with Juan over to the dead man’s car. Hank reached through the window and shoved the man over on the seat. Fortunately the car was still in gear and Hank was able to shift it into neutral without having to get in and step on the brake.

He and Juan pushed and the car rolled away down the slight slope, to come to rest in the ditch that paralleled the entrance to the gate. Pete drove up and waited for Juan to get into his truck, open the gate and drive through before he followed suit. “I’ll be back to help!” he called through the open passenger window to Hank. Hank nodded, relieved.

There were no more interlopers for a while as resident after resident came home. Hank thought about just leaving the gate open, but after mentioning it to Pete, who was back, armed to the teeth, the decision was made to keep it closed and open it only when the person was identified.

William and Julie showed up a bit later, both armed. They waved at Hank and Pete, and then took up prone positions nearby to back the two men up. At ten minutes till noon, the sky went brilliant white in the direction of the city’s airport. Hank and Pete dove behind the block wing walls of the gate. William and Julie covered their heads and stayed where they were.

The pressure of the shock wave pressed the air from their lungs and the sound, beyond loud, hurt their ears. Then the shock wave reversal sucked the remaining air from them. All four gasped for breath and shook their heads, trying to get rid of the ringing noise.

Quick looks showed the ugly mushroom cloud beginning to grow in the distance. Pete had to wait a few moments to collect himself, but Hank got