Fallout.
The moment a nuclear bomb detonates, several forms of radiation instantly permeate the surroundings. For those near the point of impact who were fortunate enough to survive the incendiary effects, the threat of radioactive fallout was very real. As the pulse of radiation surged away from the blast, the bodies of every living being who was outside or in inadequately insulated buildings were prone to the fallout. Radiation wreaked biological havoc on the human body. At the molecular level, it immediately began to alter human DNA, impairing the ability of cells to replicate and repair themselves from damage.
Within minutes to hours, based upon proximity to the blast site, most people exposed would begin to show signs of acute radiation syndrome, including nausea, headache, dizziness, and vomiting. Within several days to two weeks later, new symptoms would emerge. In addition to purple blotches and lesions occurring on the skin, diarrhea, hair loss, fever, seizures, and bleeding from the mouth were common. In the most severe cases, people would become delirious and mentally incapacitated.
One thing would be certain. The majority of humans with radiation sickness would die because they no longer had enough immune cells to fight off any sort of infection or because their digestive system was too damaged to function properly.
Regardless of the cause, death was guaranteed.
Peter Albright didn’t want to die. He lifted his battered body out of the drainage ditch, adjusted his sling pack, and stumbled up the embankment toward the hard surface of the highway. Others were scurrying down the slope, splashed through the ditch and up the other side toward an apartment complex.
Just as Peter reached the pavement, he glanced over his shoulder as several people began cursing in frustration. A ten-foot-tall chain-link fence had thwarted their efforts to reach the residential area.
Joining dozens of others who raced past him, he mustered the strength to begin running once again, ignoring the scrapes, cuts, and bruises his body had endured. He needed to find a place of safety. A shelter of any kind to protect him from the radiation that would soon be raining down all around him.
Chapter Two
Friday, October 25
Fair Oaks Mall
Fairfax, Virginia
Peter glanced at his yellow Casio G-shock dive watch, a gift from his father when he graduated from high school. It had been his constant companion for years, but now, like his car, it had ceased to function. As he began to pass the pack of frightened motorists, he glanced up at the steel structure holding the interstate directional signs. Ordinarily green with reflective lettering, they were now scorched and difficult to read. Not that it mattered because he planned on taking the exit anyway.
The asphalt turned to unforgiving concrete, much to the chagrin of Peter, who enjoyed running. His daily four-mile jogs were paying off if he could only put the pain of the fall out of his mind. There was no time to lament the fact his muscles were begging for a rest. All Peter could think about was the radioactive fallout.
At the end of the exit ramp, he saw a hulking structure perched on a hill before him. He’d been to the Fair Oaks Mall on one other occasion to purchase a pair of Asics running shoes at Dick’s Sporting Goods. The mall seemed like a good place to hunker down. It was a large structure with plenty of walls protecting him from the environmental disaster that was surely headed his way.
He rushed across the median separating the east- and westbound lanes of Lee Jackson Memorial Highway. He glanced up at the mid-rise Marriott hotel. People were standing on their balconies, staring toward DC. Some had flashlights while others lit candles that flickered wildly in the heated air.
Peter hustled up the embankment into the mostly empty mall parking lot. At nearly four in the morning, he expected it to be devoid of activity. He was wrong.
There were only a few sporadically parked vehicles left behind from the night before. There were, however, dozens of people racing in and out of the plate-glass doors of Macy’s. Some were dragging children by the arms, urging them to hurry to safety. They waited for an opportunity to push through the broken panes of glass to enter the building.
Also, there were the opportunists. The inevitable thieves and looters who took advantage of a catastrophe to seemingly enrich themselves. They rushed out of the store, their arms wrapped around piles of clothing, into the open arms of a cloud of nuclear radiation they’d never see until the effect on their bodies revealed itself.
Peter followed a young family through the opening into the darkness of Macy’s men’s department. Shouts filled the air. A fight had broken out in the shoe department. Names were called out as loved ones searched for those who’d gotten lost in the mayhem.
Peter got his bearings and tried to remember the mall layout. His first thought was to find his way to the center of the complex as far away from these breached doors as possible. He presumed, rightfully so, that if the looters had opened up Macy’s, they’d done the same to the other retail stores.
Like a running back breaking tackles in pursuit of the end zone, Peter bowled over anyone in his way. He was in a battle to save his own life and didn’t care about those who impeded him. After a minute, he’d made his way into the center atrium of the mall.
Fair Oaks had been built forty-five years prior, when tall glass entries and skylight atriums were in vogue. For Peter, neither suited his purposes although it was still his best option. As he walked briskly through the center, he came across groups of refugees huddled in the dark recesses of the mall. Children were crying. Parents were trying to comfort them. They all tried to make sense of what was happening outside.
The sounds of breaking glass and shouting permeated the air. Peter was astounded at the
