Reena’s Absolutely challenging Challenge –> Welcome back! RXC PROMPT #233 ravaged inner space unable to account for entries and exits who came, who destroyed, who left? a soul transformed forever
It had happened. The event that all of us had trained for.
“This will never happen…” Our O.T. said loudly to our group.
“Why are we doing this then?” An intern very young, very inexperienced had asked.
“They always ask us to do things that they cannot explain the rationale for…” A very seasoned staff person chimed in.
We went through the drill. Most of it was what you would expect; it was the immediate shut-down no matter who was in the facility that bothered us.
“What happens to civilians?” One of my co-workers whispered.
“Hopefully they are in the unit when close-down initiates or they will be radiated.”
I gulped not wanting to answer the affirmative.
“But this will never happen..”
Those words were in a free fall as the yellow then red lights began their cycle of warning. Layers of lead, silicone and carbon were forming a domelike shield around our installation. We were essential personnel and our lives were more valuable than gold. Each of us had a skill set that would keep things going indefinitely.
“Health inspector 1 you must report to the infirmary – double time.”
I grabbed my insulated helmet and ran to my post. I ran past people who were clearly in shock. Those empty eyes wanted to scream ‘Help.’
All my medical training was of no assistance. They were civilians caught in inner space with no role to play and no exit except a few moments of 500 millirems/ min radiation (a deadly amount) if they were to exit.
“My daughter. I can’t find my daughter.” A woman screamed.
Against protocol, I called in a request to divert to find the child.
“Inspector 1 – what is your ETA?”
“Can you cue in a 10 minute diversion code. I need to help a civilian.”
“Negative Health 1 !!”
I never pulled my rank. Number 1 reflected that I was the highest grade health practitioner on the facility.
“No problem main operator. I am calling off as sick. Maybe some radiation leakage. I will check back in tomar…”
“Health 1 you are cleared with a 10 minute diversion.”
“Excellent.” I turned my walkie off.
I looked at the frantic mama and grabbed her hand. “We will find that girl of yours. We will not allow her soul to be transformed forever…”
Photo “Sealed Off” © moondustdesigns 2015
This flash fiction is sparked by the prompt and the picture that is a bomb shelter beneath a museum.