Radiation Point

Five

It was the sound of screams that woke the camp. I'll never forget the sound-the scream of a young child, yelling from the core of her body. I didn't think the sound would ever end, but it did with a strangled gurgle, and then it was silent.

I huddled in the bed I shared with Mia, pulling her closer as we listened, breathing heavy. No one moved for a moment; the whole camp in a standstill.

My dad jumped out of bed, pulling his clothes over his flannel pajamas, and grabbed his gun.

"Daddy, no!" I pleaded from my cot.

"Quiet," he ordered. Then turning to my mom, "Margaret, keep an eye on the girls. If anything happens, shoot to kill. That goes for you too, Nessa."

He racked his gun and made his way across the still dark camp, climbing over clattering bodies, and joining a group of men with the same idea.

My mom crawled into our bed, and held us close. The room was quiet with only the wave of whispers from frightened women and children.

"Do you think the contaminated broke in?" I whispered urgently to my mom. "What happened to the guards?" I asked, unable to keep the second question from bursting forth.

My mom had a hard look in her eyes as she stared after my dad.

"I don't know. Just get your gun, and follow your dad's instructions."

I nodded, and climbed out of the cot; the cold concrete a shock to my bare feet. Pushing my night gown out of the way, I knelt and slid a long rifle out from under the cot.

Then turning to my parent's cot, I did the same. As I pulled out my mom's gun, my hand caught on the strap of a duffel bag that I had never seen before. I tugged it out from its corner between the bed and the wall, and turned to my mom questioningly, "What's this?"

"Give it to Mia," she ordered. "If anything happens, you need to take that bag and run. Don't wait for your dad or me, just run as fast as you can. Do you understand me?"

Mia's eyes were wide, but she nodded. It was as if her fear had made her mum.

"What? No, that is not an option," I said, my voice rising.

My mom's face twisted into a frown, her eyes hard; unreadable.

"You can and you will. I will not lose you girls." Then pulling us close and smoothing our hair, "You girls will survive this-no matter what. That is all that matters."

When she released us from the embrace, the hard look was replaced with love-and sorrow. It was as if she knew, but how could she have?

Tears threatened to spill over, but I hastily brushed them away. Everything was going to be okay. We wouldn't have to use the bag. We wouldn't have to leave our parents. Those were the thoughts I clung to as I watched the door for my dad, longing just to hear his voice.

But it wasn't his comforting voice I heard next, rather the sound of gunshots ricocheting in the night. I gripped my gun and jumped up from the cot, "I have to help him!"

My mom pulled me down, and shook her head, no. I could feel the tension rising inside me. As quickly as the barrage of gunshots started, it was quiet-eerily quiet.

I looked at my mom, begging with my eyes to let me go help, but she simply rested her hand on my arm and stared forward. Mia leaned under my mom's other arm, and the three of us sat huddled together on the cot, afraid of what we couldn't see.

The doors banged open, as loud as the gunshots themselves.

My dad and the other men ran back in. I remember that moment, jumping from the cot, feeling such joy and elation at seeing his familiar face, not knowing it would be so short lived.

"Barricade the doors," he yelled to the other men, as he threw his weight against the door. The men dragged the closest cots, the metal frames scraping the concrete as they went, and piled them against the door.

Fear replaced my moments of elation, as someone shouted the question in my head, "What's going on? What's out there?"

"Contaminated," my dad said, still pushing his weight against the door.

The man closest to my dad sat on one of the cots, shaking his head, "We're overrun. The guards are dead-all of them; massacred."

I covered my ears as a high pitched screech flooded my ears from the loudspeaker on the wall.

"And so the lambs go willingly to the slaughter," a haughty voice said from over the P.A. "Let us see how safe your government really keeps you."

It cut off with a loud buzzing.

Chaos erupted at the words. In an instant, the entire camp knew who was behind the attack.

The renegades.

They had come to make an example out of our camp. And at what cost?

Our lives.

"Open the door," someone yelled.

My dad leaned against the door looking exhausted.

"Yeah, open it, we have better chances against the contaminated! The renegades will kill us in here," a frazzled looking woman screamed. She jumped up and ran to the door. She pushed at my dad, trying to get past.

He stood like a mountain unmovable.

"Quiet!" He shouted in response to the growing madness. "Have you lost your minds? Are we really going to lose any progress we've made since the bombs were dropped? Band together. Fight, you fools! That is the only way we will surv-"

His last words were cut short in a gurgle; blood coming out of his mouth, his eyes wide in shock.

I never heard the sound of the gunshot. My world had slowed when I saw my dad, strong and unmovable, doubled over, dying.

I found myself slipping out of my mom's tight grasp, and running to the door before I knew what I was doing. There was already a crowd of people pushing to the door, past my dad's fallen body as if he had never been there.

"No," I screamed, as I made my way to my dad. "Get out of the way!" I yelled as the people were still moving the cots around me.

I stood up and racked my rifle, shooting a warning shot. But it did nothing.

"Keep going," I heard someone say. "She won't shoot. She's just a child."

It was my neighbor. At least he was before the bomb was dropped. I had known this man and his family as long as I could remember. He walked over my dad's limp body as if it were nothing, and yanked at the door handle, loosing the flood gates.

"Nessa, let's go!" Mia urged, coming up beside me. I let the images fall back into place in the back of my mind, and focused on the present.

"I'm sorry," I said, wiping my pants clean as I got up from the river bank. "You're right, we need to go. We'll be lucky if we still have our cots when we get back to the camp."

"Don't worry, we will. I asked Ellen to hold our spots," Mia said, falling into step with me.

I looked at Mia incredulously. "You did what? No one is supposed to know we left!"

Mia shifted her eyes to the ground guiltily.

"I know, but Ellen noticed you leaving. Besides," Mia said, with wounded animal eyes, "She makes me feel safe-like you do; like mom used to."

I took a deep breathe to contain my anger, reminding myself that she just missed Mom and Dad.

"Fine," I said finally, in a paced voice. "But do not tell anyone else we left the camp. And you better hope that this doesn't get us killed!"

Mia didn't say anything, just pursed out her lip in a pout.