Sunset Valley - End of Days
Chapter Two - "Unlucky Survivors" Part III

Haruo, when he was stressed, would go to the pool table and shoot pool for hours as he tried to figure out whatever mental conundrum he was working through. I knew not to bother him during those times because he was working through something weighty and probably oppressive that was going through his head.

A round-table discussion was needed as to what our next plans were. For the foreseeable future we were here. We had no idea as to what our next move was. We could sit here for as long as it took for the radiation to subside to levels that we could venture outside in order to effect repairs on the ruined buildings and perhaps create a somewhat livable village out of the ruins.

Haruo asked the entire group of us, “OK, what is the end-game on this? What do we do? Do we try to stay here and make a life of it in radioactive ruins that can potentially wreck us genetically?” he paused ominously, “Or do we take our chances and try to find someplace that hasn’t been affected by the radiation as badly as Sunset Valley. Remember that Sunset Valley, with our military base, was a prime target for a 1MT nuke. It’s going to take a while for it to come down to radiation levels that we can actually establish a town here that won’t be affected by background radiation significantly higher than other places.” I looked over at Haruo. Despite his insecurities at being sure of doing the right thing, his indecisiveness was being replaced by a new determination that his family, what we had here, would survive.

“I don’t like the thought of going out in the radiation. Like what if we grow three heads or something.” Phil asked, a frown on his face. I thought back to my biology classes in high-school.

“I don’t think biology and evolution quite works in that way. If you’re currently only having one head on your body, I doubt you can grow two more in the space of six months.” Bebe commented wryly, giving him a grin.

“I hope not, because do you really want two more of me?” Phil asked.

The rest of the table’s concensus on that was “Oh, hell no…”

“Outside of the immediate effects on our body…” I said, “One of the things that we have to worry about is the effects on us genetically which will manifest maybe generations down the line. Do we really want our families to have genetic defects from exposure to radiation...effects that we could have prevented by just moving out of here? When given the chance, that is…” There were nods around the table.

With Parker only a week away from young adulthood, it was hard for him to not be included in the round-table discussion as to what he wanted, but he knew that as a teen, he wasn’t going to be allowed at the table to discuss weighty matters that for most of us were a topic that we wanted to avoid as well. However, we were the ones that had to make the decisions for the rest of the group. We wanted him to still have hope, to be able to think that there was a future. We were the adults in the room, the ones who had to look at the future with a weighted unbiased outlook even though our ages were separated by mere years rather than decades. The frankly bleak future was not something that we wanted to impart to the youngsters and the teens. We needed them still imbued with hope of tomorrow’s promise that there would be a future, not one that the previous generation had ground under the feet of their biases and internecine hatreds that had finally culminated in a war that brought humanity to its knees.

Out of all of us, Holly and Parker were the only ones who were familiar with what had taken place. How tough it was going to be to survive out there. After all they had survived the nuclear blast, the radiation, the shortages of food. They would be the ones to impart the information and then we would make the decisions based on that information on what path we were going to take. The plumbots would scout ahead marking a path where we would run into the least radiation thanks to their onboard Geiger counters. And we would follow.
We had no timeline as to when we would move, but it had to be such that when our food resources were running low, we would make that move. On top of that we had cattle and chickens. How would we deal with them? There were no guarantees that we could get them out of here let alone bartering for more when we got to where we were intending on going.

“I think we need to keep monitoring the area better than what we’ve been doing…” Bebe said. “I can ask Phil to put together another plumbot and send him out on round-the-clock monitoring missions.”

“If that’s acceptable to you.” Phil added. “I have no problem with making another plumbot.”

“I’d have no objections over that. One stipulation though, however, is that the plumbot contains a video recorder to document the area that he patrols in so that we get a good idea of what the area is like. What the conditions are. Same specs as the previous ones, onboard Geiger counter to tabulate the rems in the area, an audio device to let us know what the sounds are like in that area. We want full telemetry readings and environmental monitoring of the entire area while the plumbot is on patrol. Phil, make it happen.”
“Aye-aye, sir.”
The rest of us including Haruo rolled our eyes. We knew Phil was joking with that response and the accompanying military salute. But the truth of the matter is that we looked to my fiancé as the de facto leader of our group. Phil may have been the oldest,

...but of all of us, this apocalypse had hit Haruo the hardest. He hardly ever laughed, he hardly ever smiled, he had a new hardness to his jawline that meant that our survival was always on his mind. He had, without ever expressing so much as wanting it, donned the mantle of leadership.

Haruo glanced my way, And my look back towards him sent him a clear message. I will be by your side and I will support you in any decisions that you make for the benefit of our group. It was a quiet unspoken message of love and support that I wanted to send my fiancé. I’m sure the rest of those at the table saw it too. Haruo and I were for all intents and purposes, sans the formalities of ceremony, husband and wife, father and mother to Sam and that set us apart even from them.