Fallout (7 page)

“I almost don’t want to turn him over,” Lyrica said. “It’s almost certainly someone I know, and I’m not sure I want to know who.”

“If you would rather go inside, Derek and I can take care of him,” Sambit offered, his voice so rich with compassion that Derek found himself nodding his agreement even though he had no interest in dealing with a dead body.

“No,” Lyrica said, “I’m the manager. I need to deal with this.”

“You don’t have to,” Derek said, echoing Sambit’s offer.

“I appreciate the thoughtfulness,” Lyrica said, “but I’ll have to deal with it eventually. I’ll have to fill out the paperwork if nothing else. It was a job site accident that killed him.”

“It was a hurricane that killed him,” Derek said, bending as best he could and helping Sambit roll the body over so Lyrica could see the man’s face. Derek was glad of the heavy suit that blocked what had to be an awful smell emanating from the bloated form. He could see early signs of decay already, suggesting the man, whoever he was, had been here a couple of days at least. Derek was no expert, but he’d watched enough forensics shows to know that decomposition didn’t start instantly. “Do you know him?” he asked when Lyrica didn’t say anything.

“Yes,” she replied. “That’s Ernesto Diaz, the second shift manager. I took over from him every night when I came on night shift. We weren’t friends, but we were friendly.”

“Is there somewhere we can take him?” Derek asked. “Somewhere inside at least until the coroner or someone can get here.”

“That could be weeks,” Lyrica said, her voice breaking.

“All the more reason to move him inside where his body is protected from the elements and any scavengers who survived the storm,” Sambit said. “Even a storage shed would be better than leaving him outside.”

“We can put him in with the used rods, I guess.” Lyrica pointed to a shed on the far side of the complex. “It’s not an area we’ll need to access until the plants are running again, and even then not right away.”

“Stay here. Sambit and I will take care of him.”

“You’ll need my access code,” Lyrica said, “and I should come. I need to do right by him.”

Derek let it go, bending awkwardly to pick up the man’s shoulders. Sambit lifted his legs, and together they crossed the waterlogged yard to the shed Lyrica had indicated. She entered her code in the keypad, which, mercifully, still worked and opened the door to let them inside. They carried the body over the sill, laying it out along the wall. Derek crossed himself as Sambit knelt and whispered a prayer in a language Derek didn’t understand.

“Thank you,” Lyrica said to both of them. “Now we have about seven minutes left on our air supply. As important as it was to take care of Ernesto, we need to check out the reactor.”

After making sure the door locked behind them, Lyrica led them toward the core for unit three. “Keep an eye on your Geiger counter,” Sambit told Derek. “We’re fine inside the suits, but a spike in radiation will let us know if there’s a problem.”

They circled the containment building until they found the hole Lyrica had postulated must be there. Almost immediately, Derek’s Geiger counter started sounding. “Not good, guys.”

“I see that,” Lyrica said. “We’ve got to get closer anyway. Until I see what’s going on, I won’t know what the problem is or how to fix it. We’ve got three minutes left.”

“Will the suits protect us against this level of radiation?”

“Not for long, but for long enough for me to check out the Standby Gas Treatment installation. Stay here.”

Derek met Sambit’s eyes through the glazed plastic of their masks. Of one accord they followed her over the collapsed concrete and into the corridor they hadn’t been able to explore before. Sweat ran down Derek’s back as the heat mounted, but they dodged downed rebar and caught up with Lyrica. “I thought I said to stay there.”

“You already know we don’t follow directions well,” Derek replied. “Tell us what we’re looking for so we can get the fuck out of here. I’m sweating like a stuck pig inside this contraption.”

“That,” Lyrica said, pointing to the Standby Gas Treatment system. “It’s supposed to filter air so it’s safe to be released into the environment, but with this hole in the containment wall, it’s useless. We’ve got to get back inside. We’re going to run out of air.”

She led them back toward the entrance to the control building at a half-run, all they could manage in the bulky protective gear. At the entrance, she unfastened the hood and pulled it back. Sweat and maybe tears covered her face. Sambit followed his example, peeling back his hood and starting to take off the hazmat suit. Sweat had pooled under his arms, soaking his shirt. He took it off as well, so he stood in only a sleeveless undershirt, the ribbed fabric clinging to every dip of muscle. Derek swallowed hard as he unfastened his own helmet. He hadn’t had any hint that Sambit was hiding a body like
that
underneath his buttoned-up exterior.

“Get rid of the suit,” Lyrica said. “You can’t wear it inside now that it’s been exposed to that level of radiation. We’ll leave them out here for now and deal with them properly when we have the means.”

Derek stripped the hazmat suit the rest of the way off, relieved to have one less layer of gear on in the stifling humidity of a late summer day in south Texas. The temperature hadn’t risen too high yet, fortunately, but that just meant they were breathing cool water instead of hot water. At least the climate control in the building seemed to be working at the moment. If it went out, they’d really be miserable.

“Johnson, Patel, Marshall, what do you think you were doing, going outside without my approval?” Tucker shouted the minute they stepped back inside.

“Pissing you off,” Derek replied flippantly. “Dr. Patel, Dr. Johnson, I believe we’re off duty. We’ll see you in about twelve hours, Tucker. In the meantime, try not to make matters worse, will you?”

He walked into the break room and flopped down on his cot, sweaty clothes and all. Fido crawled out from under his cot immediately, whining as he rested his head on Derek’s arm. Derek patted his head absently.

“Mr. Marshall,” Tucker said, coming into the break room, “we need to have a word about your attitude.”

“No, we don’t,” Derek replied, not even opening his eyes. “I don’t work for the power plant, the Nuclear Regulatory Commission, or any other organization that gives you any authority in my regard. If you’d care to take it up with NASA, you can contact Kenneth Woodall. If
he
has an issue with my attitude, then I’ll worry about it. Until then, go away and leave me alone. I’d like to get some sleep so I’ll be ready to do whatever Dr. Johnson and Dr. Patel need me to do tomorrow.”

Derek could hear Tucker spluttering in frustration, but he didn’t acknowledge the man any further. He’d played nice all day—well, nice for him anyway—and he was done.

“You don’t gain anything by antagonizing him, you know.”

The words were accompanied by a nudge to his ankle and a sudden dip in the cot. That brought Derek’s eyes open to the vision of Sambit perched on the end of his cot, still in his undershirt and dress slacks. He’d wiped the sweat from his face and chest, but a drip still lingered on the end of his hair. Derek fought the irrational need to sit up and brush it away.

“I gain a hell of a lot of satisfaction,” Derek said. He didn’t reach for that tempting bead of sweat, but he did sit up. He felt far too vulnerable lying flat on his bed beneath Sambit’s piercing gaze.

“He isn’t going away just because he’s a pain,” Sambit said. “The more you antagonize him, the harder it will be for all of us to work with him. You get to go back to NASA eventually, but Lyrica would like to keep working here. I’m in the classroom rather than in a plant, but I still work in this field. He could make our lives difficult even if he can’t do anything to yours once you leave.”

“I’ll get you a job at NASA,” Derek offered. “We’ve been experimenting with using nuclear power on some of the long-range spacecraft. You could consult on those projects.”

“That’s a generous offer, but is it really one you can make?” Sambit said. “Just think a little about the rest of us before you make too much of an enemy of him. Unless you’re trying to make an enemy of the rest of us as well?”

“No, of course not,” Derek said.

Sambit cocked an eyebrow at him.

“Okay, fine, I’m not Mr. Congeniality, and I was a little abrasive when we first met, but it’s been a rough few days. Yes, I know”—he waved his hand to cut off Sambit’s interruption—“it’s been a rough few days for everyone. I get that. Really, I do, but that’s the best I’ve got at the moment, okay? I walked out of my house this morning to find barely half a dozen houses in my neighborhood still standing. I found Fido in the wreckage down the street, soaking wet and shaking from fear. It’s a miracle he didn’t drown or get crushed when the building fell down around him. I got a series of nasty phone calls from my boss, and then orders to pack up my robot and come here where I know no one, know nothing about what I’m supposed to be doing to help, and where the risk to my long-term health is as great or greater than that bitch of a storm. I’m entitled to feel a little rough around the edges.”

“You waited out the storm at home?”

Derek shrugged. “Do you know how many times I’ve seen people evacuate because this was ‘the big one’?” Sambit shook his head. “I don’t either. I’ve lost count, it’s happened so often. The storms fizzle out or they change direction or they don’t do the damage everyone says they will, so I shrugged and figured this one would be the same as all the rest.”

“Only it wasn’t.”

“No, it certainly wasn’t,” Derek agreed, “but by the time I realized it wasn’t, it was too late to try to get out. My house is on a bit of a rise so it didn’t flood, and I have storm shutters so it was safe from flying debris, but on my motorcycle, I’d have been toast.”

“You were lucky.”

“I was beyond lucky, and I know it, but it’s left me a little shaken.”

Sambit nodded. “If you won’t be offended by the suggestion, I know something that might help.”

“I already tried tequila,” Derek joked. “It didn’t work.”

Sambit smiled. “No, not alcohol. Yoga.”

“Yoga?” Derek repeated. “How is that supposed to help?”

“Stand up and take off your socks and I’ll show you,” Sambit offered.

Derek was skeptical, but he didn’t have anything better to do with his time. Fido stood up as soon as he did, but Derek patted the dog’s head and told him to go lie down. He curled up under Derek’s cot, eyes fixed on Derek as he pulled off his socks.

“Okay, convince me.”

Sambit stood up straight, feet together, palms against each other in front of his chest, and took a deep breath. Derek mimicked the pose awkwardly.

“Just relax and breathe for a moment,” Sambit said, his eyes closing. Derek tried to relax and breathe, but the sounds of people moving around in the hallway distracted him.

“Don’t pay attention to them,” Sambit said without opening his eyes. “Concentrate inward. All that matters is your breath.”

“How did you know I was paying attention to them?” Derek asked. “You didn’t even look at me.”

“I can hear your breathing,” Sambit said, “and it isn’t calm and even yet, which means you’re thinking about something other than that. You can close the door if it will help.”

Derek closed the door, suddenly aware of Sambit’s proximity as he returned to his spot. He told himself to stop being ridiculous. He didn’t know if Sambit was gay, and even if he was, the professor was
so
not Derek’s type. Except that he had a sharp wit to go with his education, a toned body to go with his conservative clothes, and patience with Derek’s foibles. It was a deadly combination. Then Sambit arched his back, lifting his hands at the same time before exhaling audibly and bending forward to touch his toes. Derek swore Sambit’s body simply folded in half at his hips.

Fuck.

He had to find out if Sambit was gay without giving away his interest.

“So what do I do now?” He needed Sambit to stand back up or he wouldn’t be responsible for his actions.

Sambit stood up and returned to the same position as before. “Start at the beginning. It’s the end of the day, not the beginning, but the Salute to the Sun is still a good way to relax and invigorate your body and mind.”

“Is that what you were doing?”

“That was the first part of it, yes,” Sambit said. “Take a deep breath, lift your hands, and lean back as far as you can without losing your balance.”

Derek did as Sambit said, feeling the stretch along his abdomen as he arched his back. He couldn’t go back nearly as far as Sambit did, but he had already realized this was one field on which he couldn’t compete with the other man.

“Now exhale as you bend forward and touch your toes.”

Derek’s mind skittered back to the image of Sambit bent double. He kept his breathing steady, trying to focus on the yoga rather than on his instructor. He bent forward, groaning at the stretch down the backs of his legs. To his dismay, he couldn’t even touch his toes without bending his knees.

“Right leg back into a lunge,” Sambit directed, moving in time with his words. Derek imitated Sambit’s stance. “Now the other leg, into a plank.”

About the time his shoulders started burning from holding the pushup position, Derek gave up watching Sambit and concentrated on breathing and not making a fool of himself. He pushed his hips up into the position Sambit called Down Dog, pulled his leg forward for another lunge, returned to the toe touch position, and stood, arching his back again before returning to the prayer position where they’d started. “Holy fuck. That hurts.”

“You are stiff,” Sambit said. “That’s why. It should feel good, energizing, not painful.”

“I obviously need more practice, then,” Derek said, slumping back onto his cot.

“Then we should practice,” Sambit insisted. “Up. Two minutes is not enough to help your state of mind or your state of body. We will do it four more times, and then we’ll decide what to do next.”

“Can’t I just go for a run?” Derek asked.

“Where?” Sambit countered. “You can’t go outside because of the radiation, and we don’t know that the rest of this building is any safer. You can do this right here without any extra space or equipment. It might not be ideal, but I assure you I can arrange as hard a workout for you as you would like.”