Shelter: Book 2, A Long Days Night by Ira Tabankin Page A

for the month you decided to wander the shelter. We want to make sure there’s nothing lingering that may cause you or anyone else any problems.”
     
    “Doc, are you suggesting I’m crazy?”
     
    “Jay, I never said that. I never use that word. I’m concerned that you underwent a very traumatic experience and we want to ensure you’re OK.”
     
    “I assure you I’m fine. What can you tell me about everyone else’s condition?”
     
    “Jay, you know we’re not supposed to talk about other people’s health issues. There are laws about that.”
     
    “Those laws don't apply down here!”
     
    “Jay, given what you’ve been through, and what most everyone else is feeling, I think it best if we drop this line of discussion.”
     
    “And if I don’t want to drop it?”
     
    “Then I’m sorry, but if you’re not going to allow me to examine you there’s nothing for us to talk about.”
     
    Leaving the medical facility, I ask Fred, “How’s everyone else doing? Don’t bullshit me, give it to me straight.”
     
    “Jay, we’ve heard grumbling from some of the people who’d never been in the shelter before, they’re surprised at the small space they’ve been assigned.”
     
    “They ought to be happy they have a private space. If someone hadn’t visited the shelter in advance, watching them being built and installed wouldn’t give anyone the scale. The rooms are small, we had to make them small so that every couple could have their own bedroom. We wanted to have as much storage space as we could squeeze into the shelter. We have no idea how long we’re going to be down here. The shelter seemed huge when one looked at the hole in the ground, but when forty people squeeze in among the cases and crates of supplies, there’s not much room. Some of the room is taken up with the security and medical facilities. There’s also the play room for the kids which can be made into a classroom and the mess hall which cooks the meals for us.”
     
    Fred lowers his voice, “Jay, some people are very worried the motorcycle club and mob living in our homes up top will find us. It’s been the major item of discussion since we got here. Everyone is always looking over their shoulder. Many carried their weapons wherever they went for the first few weeks, they were scared shitless, some still are. Many have lost weight because they’re depressed. I think it would do everyone a lot of good if you addressed everyone tonight at dinner.”
     
    “Okay, I’ll address them. They have nothing to worry about, even if the assholes above us found our door, they can’t break into it. Let’s assume they found some way to break through the first door, they still have two more doors of concrete filled steel. They can’t cut them with a torch, they will have trouble blowing them up. We have cameras which will enable us to see anything they try. If we have to, we can flood the space between the doors with gas. We have mini-claymore mines in-between the doors. Plus we have our escape tunnel. While the gang is trying to enter the front door, we can be escaping through the tunnel.”
     
    Fred shakes his head, “I didn’t know we had gas ready to flood the entrance. That makes me feel better. I’m sure it’s going to make everyone feel better too. Jay, if you mention the escape tunnel, they are going to wonder if we had to use it, where we’ll go, what we’ll do, you should have a ready answer before you say anything about an escape tunnel, especially with your son in law Ricky’s attitude.  If everyone thought we’d be forced to escape with nowhere to go, their morale will fall to new lows. The number of depression cases we have will skyrocket.”
     
    Fred asks, “Where are you going now?”
     
    “To my room, I want to change and get cleaned up.”
     
    Fred smiles trying to hold back a smirk, I look at him and ask, “What’s so funny?”
     
    Fred says, “Most people aren’t used to communal bathrooms, they