Children of the Dust by Louise Lawrence

back pack, and lia carried the gun. It was twenty to midnight by the apartment clock.
    'We should have a clear eight-hour start,' said Dwight.
    'You go ahead,' said Bill.
    'What do you mean?' Ophelia asked in alarm.
    'I mean: wait for me in the truck. I'll be along in a minute,' said Bill.
    'What's the hold-up?' Dwight asked suspiciously.
    Erica opened the door. She had returned early from the laboratory and Ophelia's heart sank. They did not need to to tell her their intention. It was obvious they were leaving, going outside. But Erica's reaction was not what Ophelia expected, no scathing remarks, no blazing anger, no recriminations or blame, just a broken desperate glance at her only daughter before she crossed the room, rested her head on Bill's shoulder and started to cry.
    Dwight hustled Ophelia from the room.
    'That's no place for us,' he said.
    'But what's the matter with her?' Ophelia asked.
    'Use your imagination!' Dwight said.
    Chewing her lip Ophelia followed him along the corridor. The lighting was dimmed at night to conserve energy and there was no one about. Apartment doors were closed and most people slept. And it had never been necessary to guard the bunker at night because the outer doors could be opened only from the inside. Dwight entered the console room and pulled the release lever, then led Ophelia on past the dining hall and storage depot, along the pavement of the main tunnel until they reached the leading army truck. She watched him stow the gun and kit-bag in the back with two drums of petrol, then climbed into the cab and sat beside him to wait. It was eerie and quiet. Moonlight shone at the end of the tunnel and his fingers drummed restlessly on the steering wheel.
    'What's taking Daddy so long?' she asked.
    'Sometimes,' said Dwight, 'you're so thick I can hardly believe it.'
    'If you're so damned clever why don't you tell me?'
    'What the hell do you think they're doing?' said Dwight. 'How would you feel if the man you had lived with and loved for twenty years suddenly decided he was leaving? We won't be coming back, you know.'
    Ophelia looked at him in alarm.
    'What do you mean? Of course we'll be coming back!'
    Dwight switched on the ignition. His face showed green by the dashboard lights and it had never occurred to Ophelia that Erica might care, or that they might be leaving for ever. 'What do you mean about not coming back?' she repeated. And Dwight had to spell it out for her. He said they were burning their boats as far as General MacAllister was concerned, defecting to the other side, political traitors and enemies of the State. He said that unless MacAllister were ousted by liberal sympathizers they would have to seek political asylum among the outsiders. Traitors, said Dwight, were either imprisoned, executed, or excommunicated.
    Ophelia had not thought of that. She had not thought ofanything much. It was emotion that had driven her, a need to be with her father because he was the only person who had ever really loved her. Maybe she had wanted to be with Dwight, and that was emotional too. Doubts besieged her. She did not really want to leave the bunker and she certainly did not want to spend the rest of her life among outsiders. Maybe she ought to stay with Erica? Maybe other things were more important than her need to be loved? Maybe it was not too late to change her mind? But her father climbed into the cab and the engine roared into life. Sick fear gripped her as the truck emerged into the vast abandoned darknesses of earth and sky, headed towards an unimaginable future below unknown stars.
    'Is Erica okay?' Dwight asked.
    'She won't tell, if that's what you mean,' said Bill.
    'No,' said Dwight. 'That's not what I meant. I mean is she all right?'
    Bill raised his voice above the roar of the engine.
    'The conflict between personal loyalty and public duty is something she's never had to cope with before. I left her with your mother.'
    'Good old Mom,' Dwight said bleakly. 'She'll stand by