The Tipping Point (Surviving the Fall 9)

Minutes ticked slowly by as Rick and Dr. Evans worked together in the shop, hearing the rumble of diesel engines and screeching metal growing closer. Dust billowed into the air as one of the bulldozers disturbed a large pile of ash, sending a cloud of it flying past the shop and up into the air. The vehicles drove by slowly, barely visible through the dust and ash as they rumbled along, the sound from their engines rattling the few intact pieces of glass still left in the shop. Dr. Evans and Rick stopped moving rubble and Dr. Evans crouched down low next to Jane while Rick stayed sitting up, peeking over the counter as he watched for the men who would be walking behind the bulldozers.

“You’re almost free,” Dr. Evans whispered to Jane, “As soon as they pass by we’ll get you out. Can you still move your legs and feet?”

There was still a moderately-sized pile of broken wood, cinderblocks and bricks on Jane’s legs, but she tried moving them nonetheless, wincing only slightly as she did. “Yeah. I can still move them. I think something’s stuck in my leg but I can feel my toes and move them.”

Dr. Evans patted her on the shoulder. “Good, good. Just stay still. We’ll get you out in a moment or two.”

While they hadn’t been able to hear the men talking before, once the bulldozers got just beyond their building their sound faded enough that Rick was able to hear the shouts of the men walking behind the vehicles. Rick cocked his head and listened intently, trying to discern not only their words but their tone and intent behind them as well.

“Unit three reports they found a cache of food and water, all unspoiled. They’re near capacity and will be heading to us shortly.”

“What about unit four? Any luck?”

“Nothing since their last report an hour ago. They’re gathering bits and pieces but nothing solid. Unit two’s still trying to resurrect that crane they found but it doesn’t look promising.”

“Using these ‘dozers as battering rams isn’t going to work if the doors on that facility are as big as they’re supposed to be. We’re going to need something more.”

“We need a bunker-buster.”

“Ha!”

Rick looked back and saw his own confused expression mirrored in both Dr. Evans and Jane’s faces. The conversation between the men walking outside the shop made no sense, and sounded like a mix between some sort of nefarious plotting and a group of rescuers trying to help people out. Rick sank beneath the counter as the voices drew close to the shop, trying to stay out of sight. The crunching of boots on the pavement outside grew louder until they were walking past. Rick could hear the steps of no less than six individuals outside the shop, and he held his breath and put a finger to his lips as he remained motionless, hoping that the men would keep walking by without stopping.

“Rogers, isn’t this where you got your wife that ring last year?” The voice came from the entrance of the shop where Rick, Jane and Dr. Evans were hiding. Rick felt his heart rate explode and he wondered offhand why the men hadn’t heard it beating.

“Hm. Yeah.” More bootsteps crunched, this time closer than before. One or more of the men were inside the shop. “Nice couple ran this place. I wonder what happened to them.”

“Same thing as everyone else, probably.”

The other man kicked at a pile of debris on the floor, sending bits of metal and wood flying up and over the counter. “Yep. Come on, let’s go.”

Rick felt his whole body relax at the man’s words. Dr. Evans and Jane’s faces were pictures of relief as they all listened to the pair exit the shop—until Rick felt a sharp pain in his awkwardly positioned leg. A cramp throbbed in his thigh unexpectedly and he kicked his leg outward, straightening it to try and relieve the pain. The motion did not come without consequence, though, and there was a loud clatter as he kicked the pile of rubble behind the counter and near Jane’s legs.

Rick felt his face flush red and he closed his eyes, praying that the sound was either quieter than he thought or that it would be lost in the rumble of the diesel engines a short distance away. As the footsteps stopped near the front of the shop and he heard a pair of bodies abruptly turn around, he knew that it wasn’t going to be. Half a second later, a loud voice called out, causing a sinking feeling in his stomach as he realized he had just doomed them all.

“Who the hell is in there?!”

Chapter 7

ISS, International Space Station

Commander Palmer glances at his watch. Twenty-five minutes of oxygen left and counting.

“Hurry up!” He bellows over the comms as he and Ted stand inside the airlock, looking out at Jackie. She is floating through space, the thrusters on her EVA suit firing at short intervals to keep her on track with the airlock. When she finally arrives, Ted and Commander Palmer help her pull in the string of equipment lashed to her arm and Commander Palmer begins operating the manual controls to seal the outer door. Once the door closes, he motions toward the inner door.

“Ted, use the manual controls to get the inner hatch open. Once we’re inside, I’ll head for engineering control station and get everything booted up. You two get everything in, seal the airlock and then get up to the main controls and see if there are any critically damaged components. We’ve all but used up our air so we’ve got to hustle.”

Ted nods, though the motion is imperceptible inside his bulky suit. He works the control for the inner hatch as quickly as his gloved hands allows, and soon it opens with a quick whoosh as air from inside the station rushes in to fill the void in the airlock. Shedding the large thruster portion of his EVA suit, Commander Palmer pushes himself past Ted and Jackie, calling out to them as he goes by. “Sounds like the skin of the station is intact, at least, so that’s good. Cross your fingers, guys; I’ll be back in a jiffy!”

As Ted and Jackie work to get the equipment and supplies into the narrow tubes and passageways of the station, Commander Palmer flies toward the center of the maze, where the main engineering controls are l

ocated. A row of massive batteries sits in the center of the station, the energy within kept topped off by solar panels on the outside of the station that were never fully retracted. While the batteries have kept core systems in the station online ever since the last astronaut left, the main power source for the station is a combination of an experimental micro fusion reactor developed by MIT and the main solar panels which are still safely tucked away.

While the station possesses air scrubbers and tanks of reserve oxygen, the batteries in the station are not enough to process and distribute the air. Either the reactor or the solar panels—or, ideally, both—must be activated. The only question is which one is more liable to still function.

“How’s it going down there, Commander?” Ted comes in over the comms, his voice calm with just a touch of concern.

“Twelve minutes of air left,” Commander Palmer replies. “How’s it look at command? Do the reactor or panels show any signs of damage?”