Fallout by Ariel Tachna Page A

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