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You’ve decided. If you keep bunkering down they’ll follow the smoke, find your bunker, and at the very least scrap your only power supply assuming they don’t kill you and everyone else inside after.You need to leave now, hide everything, but without a respirator you’re putting your life on the line here but it’s the only option.
There’s not much time, you glance to one of your several watches dotted about the area next to your bed, looks like you’ve got barely three hours of light left before nightfall. Should be enough, but you need to go quick. There’s no time to fix the pipes, you’ll have to give your family the rundown while you prepare to do the unthinkable and leave the shelter.
Operating with peak efficiency you whistle through your teeth, a deafening squeal it bounces about the bunker with an echo and any murmurs among your family are instantly silent, though the chickens in storage seem to be agitated by your call.
Your wife sets down the broom and gathers the children to her side while you rifle through a stack of clothes, in the time it took for them to all gather around you’ve already found your shirt, pants, and gloves. All color coded and separated appropriately, preparation pays off in spades.
“Alright, everyone listen up. This is important.” You can’t afford to stand still and speak, they’ll have to deal with frequent voice muffling as you put on the several layers of clothes you’ll need to brave the outside.
“I’m heading outside, two and a half hours at the most.” You decide to be completely honest now, getting some looks as you put your holster on and start going for your guns.
“Talking on the radio put a target on us, not to mention the plane that’s smoking on our doorstep right now. Anyone with eyes is going to head towards that plane thinking it’s their lucky day, and they’re going to walk into us, those solar panels aren’t helping. We’ll be lucky if someone isn’t on their way right now so..”
You trail off as you pack your bag, food, tools, fuck it put the fire axe on the side, a crowbar, guns are loaded and ready to go.
“Honey, plate carrier please?” You interrupt yourself to motion for the plate carrier, she’s got your back. You put it on in an instant as you examine the bag.
You manage to cram in anything disposable that you can use as clutter. Looks like you can secure some folded up cardboard boxes to yourself on the way out and start laying some of those around, you pack in a length of chicken wire as well.
“I’m junking it all up. We should blend in and be a pile of garbage by the time I’m done. That means you guys get to hold down the fort. should be back soon. Packed up if I’m not. You know the drill. No knock no open. Everyone remember the knock?”
The only thing that stops your rapid gear up is looking to see if everyone gets the memo, you hear three overlapped rhythms on cue. Perfect. It’s DAD in Morse. You have to smile.
