Fallout Read online

  ARIEL TACHNA

  Contemporary M/M Romance at its Finest

  Inherit the Sky

  “…a well crafted, beautiful book that I would recommend to anyone looking for a love story that takes courage.” —Guilty Indulgence

  “This story is beautifully, realistically handled.” —Joyfully Jay

  Her Two Dads

  “…one of the most emotionally rewarding and uplifting love stories that I have read in a long time.” —Dark Diva Reviews

  “This is one of the best books I have ever read.”

  —Judging the Book by Its Pages

  Seducing C.C.

  “…a great comfort read.” —Blackraven Reviews

  “…a seductively sexy and romantic story.” —Night Owl Reviews

  Out of the Fire

  “This story tore at my heart.” —TwoLips Recommended Read

  “…something in it for just about everybody who has a kink…”

  —The Romance Studio

  Once in a Lifetime

  “… a coming-of-age story that introduces heart-pounding firsts and nostalgic lasts.” —¡Miraculous!

  http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com

  NOVELS BY ARIEL TACHNA

  Fallout

  Her Two Dads

  Inherit the Sky

  The Inventor’s Companion

  The Matelot

  Once in a Lifetime

  Overdrive

  Out of the Fire

  Seducing C.C.

  Stolen Moments

  A Summer Place

  THE PARTNERSHIP IN BLOOD NOVELS

  Alliance in Blood

  Covenant in Blood

  Conflict in Blood

  Reparation in Blood

  Perilous Partnership

  Reluctant Partnerships

  WITH NICKI BENNETT

  All For One

  Checkmate

  Hot Cargo

  Under the Skin

  WITH MADELEINE URBAN

  Sutcliffe Cove

  NOVELLAS BY ARIEL TACHNA

  Healing in His Wings

  Rediscovery

  Rose Among the Ruins

  Why Nileas Loved the Sea

  WITH NICKI BENNETT

  Something About Harry

  Tying the Knot

  THE EXPLORING LIMITS SERIES

  AVAILABLE AT DREAMSPINNER PRESS

  http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com

  Copyright

  Published by

  Dreamspinner Press

  382 NE 191st Street #88329

  Miami, FL 33179-3899, USA

  http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Fallout

  Copyright © 2012 by Ariel Tachna

  Cover Art by Shobana Appavu [email protected]

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the Publisher, except where permitted by law. To request permission and all other inquiries, contact Dreamspinner Press, 382 NE 191st Street #88329, Miami, FL 33179-3899, USA

  http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/

  ISBN: 978-1-61372-522-1

  Printed in the United States of America

  First Edition

  May 2012

  eBook edition available

  eBook ISBN: 978-1-61372-523-8

  To the heroes of Fukushima Dai-ichi, whose willingness to risk their lives to save others inspired this novel.

  Chapter 1

  WHEN Tropical Storm Elsa aimed its sights at the Texas Gulf Coast, Derek Marshall shrugged and checked his generator to make sure he’d have backup power if they lost electricity for more than a few hours. When the storm was upgraded to Hurricane Elsa, he checked his readiness kit to make sure he had plenty of water just in case the local water system was compromised. When Category 1 became Category 2, he made sure he had plenty of canned goods. When Category 2 became Category 3, he checked the propane tank for his grill. When it became Category 4, he closed his storm shutters and hunkered down with a bottle of tequila to wait it out.

  The bitch stalled ten miles offshore, pummeling the Gulf Coast for days, stretching from east of New Orleans almost to Brownsville, spawning storm surges that rolled inward ten miles in places, Derek discovered later. At the time, he was only aware of the pounding winds and the incessant rain. His house was at the highest point in his neighborhood, but when he peeked out between the slats of his storm shutters, he could see the waters rising. His weather radio reported flooding throughout Galveston, Houston, Bay City, and farther west. Government officials warned people to stay inside. The 135-mile-per-hour sustained winds made it dangerous to even think about going outside. If they hadn’t followed the advice to evacuate, they needed to stay where they were and hope for the best until the storm passed.

  Derek turned off the radio and opened a second bottle of tequila. If he died, at least he’d go happy.

  When the winds finally passed and the rain slowed to a drizzle, Derek opened the storm shutters and peered outside with bleary eyes. Only one in every three houses still had its roof, and the other two in three had lost walls as well when the roofs collapsed. Even drunk as he was, it occurred to him that he was damn lucky to be alive, so he waded through the flooded streets to the houses nearest his, checking to see if anyone else had stayed and, if so, if they’d made it through.

  He didn’t find any people, but he did find a dog in the rubble of one of the houses, shivering in fear. It came out when Derek called, though, its tail wagging even as it continued to shake. Derek searched through the house as much as he could until he found a couple of cans of dog food. If the owners were in the house, he didn’t see any sign of them. “Who the hell leaves a dog alone at home with a storm like Elsa on the way?” he muttered. He sat down next to the dog, heedless of the rain and the rubble. The mutt put its muzzle on Derek’s thigh, the trembling finally starting to ease as Derek stroked its head. “It’s okay, Fido,” he said, keeping his voice soothing. “I’m not going to leave you alone. You’re going to come home with me, and I’m going to take care of you. Are you okay to walk? You came out here to me pretty well. If you are, let’s get out of the rain and inside where it’s drier.”

  Derek kept a close eye on the dog as they braved the floodwaters between the rubble of the dog’s house and Derek’s house. The water came up to the dog’s belly, but it trotted along beside him trustingly. If Derek hadn’t had the dog food in his hands, he’d have picked the animal up, but he couldn’t carry both of them, and Fido seemed willing and able to walk. When they reached his house, he cast a critical eye over the roof. He could see shingles missing, but it didn’t look like the tar paper beneath was damaged, so he hoped there wouldn’t be any leaks. The house had to keep him and Fido safe and dry until the floodwaters went down and the power came back on.

  “It’s okay, boy,” he repeated as they walked into the house. “We made it through the storm. Everything after this is easy.” The thought of looters occurred to him, although as dead as the neighborhood appeared, he wasn’t sure anyone else had stayed—or survived if they did—but he decided it wouldn’t be a bad idea to keep his gun handy. Just in case.

  He pried one of the cans of dog food open with a pocket knife because the dog looked too pathetic to wait, and then powered up the generator and unlocked his gun from the safe. The whiff of cool air when the air conditioner kicked in was a relief after three
days of unrelenting humidity. Derek plugged his cell phone in and checked idly for reception. To his surprise, he had one very weak bar. And ten new messages on his voice mail.

  The first one was a simple request from his mother to call him when the storm had passed. He dialed her number quickly and let her know he was fine, if a little cut off at the moment. When he got off the phone with her, he listened to the rest of the messages.

  “Marshall, when you get this message, call me.”

  “Marshall, where are you? I need you to call me.”

  “Marshall, where the hell are you? Don’t tell me you’re still at home.”

  “Derek Marshall, if you don’t call me the minute you get this message, you won’t have a job to come back to.”

  Derek rolled his eyes at that one. His boss at NASA regularly threatened his job, but since Derek was the best robotics engineer in the country, he figured he’d have to do more than not return a call before he’d be out of work.

  The remaining five messages, all from his boss, grew increasingly frantic, culminating with, “Derek Marshall, if I find out you stayed at home to wait out this fucking hurricane, I will fucking kill you myself. Call me.”

  Deciding the string of profanity meant the situation, whatever it was, really did merit immediate attention, Derek dialed his boss’s number.

  “Where the fuck are you?”

  “Hello to you too, Kenneth,” Derek said with a roll of his eyes. His boss was short on social niceties at the best of times. Derek didn’t know what was going on, but this clearly didn’t qualify as the best of times.

  “Don’t give me that, you bastard. Where are you, and more importantly, where’s that piece of junk you call Number Five?”

  “If you talk that way about it, I won’t tell you,” Derek threatened. He’d started building robots after he first saw the movie Short Circuit. He’d fallen in love with the quirky robot who saw more than he should have. As a robotics engineer, Derek appreciated the difference between reality and fiction, but it hadn’t stopped him from naming his prototype Number Five when he’d started working on it three years ago. “I’m at home, and Number Five is right here with me. What do you need us for?”

  “The number three reactor in Bay City is compromised,” Kenneth said. “I need your robot and your genius with other people’s robots to work with a team to get it under control. The President called NASA specifically asking for our best robotics people.”

  “There’s two feet of water in the streets around my house,” Derek said. “Trees down, houses collapsed. There’s no way I’m going anywhere, with or without Number Five.”

  “If I get you there, will you help?” Kenneth demanded.

  “If you can get me there,” Derek agreed, “but give me an hour before you pick me up, and send coffee. Elsa and I celebrated her arrival with tequila.”

  “You spent the whole storm drunk, didn’t you?”

  “How else would you ride out a hurricane?”

  “Somewhere safe?” Kenneth retorted. “Be ready in an hour, Marshall. And be prepared to stay awhile.”

  “What about Fido?” Derek asked.

  “Fido?”

  “My dog.”

  “You don’t have a dog.”

  “I do now,” Derek said. “He rode out the storm in the house down the street. The damn thing fell down around him. He’s mine now.”

  “Fine. Someone will take care of the damn dog.”

  “Fido,” Derek said. “His name is Fido.”

  “Someone will take care of Fido.”

  After setting down his phone, Derek contemplated what to pack. He tossed a few changes of clothes in a bag. He could wash them if he needed to at some point. Up in his workshop, he packed Number Five carefully in the custom-designed case he’d ordered once he’d determined the size he intended the robot to be. Then he considered the rest of his equipment and what little he knew of the situation. A compromised nuclear reactor meant radiation, and that meant degrading circuits. He grabbed a duffel and started filling it with the tools and replacement parts he had on hand to keep Number Five running and possibly to upgrade any other robots at his disposal. If he had to, he’d build another one or two. The cost of a few robots would be far less than the cost of cleaning up from a core breach and meltdown so close to Houston. He looked around one more time, but everything left was a duplicate of what he’d already packed. He hefted the duffel over his shoulder and carried Number Five down to the foyer of his house. His mother called it self-indulgent to have as much space as he had just for himself, but then his mother thought that about a lot of things in his life. He didn’t even want to think about what she’d say about the collection of gay porn on his laptop or the gay skin magazines by his bed. Speaking of which, he’d gotten a new one recently. He should take that with him. He could put the pinups in his room wherever he was staying to make it a little more pleasant. There probably wouldn’t be anything else to do with his downtime but whack off.

  His phone rang again while he was adding the magazine to his laptop case. “Are you ready?”

  “As I’ll ever be,” Derek said. “Number Five is packed along with as much of my equipment as I can carry. I’m a little more sober now. What’s going on?”

  “I’ve already told you all I can,” Kenneth replied. “You’ll be briefed when you get there. They’re trying to avoid widespread panic and so are keeping information classified as much as possible.”

  That didn’t sound promising. “There are escape protocols in place if this goes south on us?”

  “It’s already gone south,” Kenneth said. “We’re trying to keep it from going nuclear.”

  “Well, shit,” Derek said. “That’s not encouraging.”

  “That’s why we need Number Five,” Kenneth said. “He can go where people can’t, and you’ve got him so fine-tuned he can do anything you could do with your hands and more.”

  If Kenneth was complimenting Derek’s robot, it was beyond bad. “Have they shut down the core at least?” Derek didn’t know much about nuclear power, but he knew that much.

  “I’ve told you all I know. The helicopter is leaving now. It’ll be there in fifteen minutes to pick you up. Good luck, Derek.”

  From the sound of it, he’d need it.

  “Come on, Fido.” He urged the golden brown mutt out of the laundry room, where it had taken shelter. “We’re going on a trip.”

  In closer to ten minutes than the fifteen Kenneth had predicted, the chop-chop of a helicopter’s rotors shook the windows in the house. Derek dashed out beneath the spinning blades. “Turn it all the way off,” he shouted to the pilot. “I’ve got a petrified dog in the house and no crate because he’s a rescue. We can strap him in, but I don’t think he’ll come with the noise.”

  “Mr. Marshall, we don’t have time for this.”

  “Then find someone else with my skills who’s stupid enough to agree to this,” Derek said, turning away. “Fido and I will stay here where it’s safe.”

  “I’d hardly call this safe. What if looters come through?”

  Derek pulled back the edge of the jacket he was wearing. “They’d be in for a nasty surprise. Now, are you turning this thing off, or am I going back inside?”

  The pilot looked like he wanted to argue more, so Derek turned around and sloshed back toward the house, grateful once again that he’d bought the house on the hill, such as it was.

  “Mr. Marshall, wait! It’ll take a minute for the rotors to stop.”

  Derek waved to show he’d heard the man. “I’ll bring my equipment in the meantime.”

  He went back inside and petted the dog reassuringly. “We’re just going to take a ride somewhere safe and warm, okay, Fido? Let me put my bags in the chopper and I’ll come back for you.”

  Fido had other plans, following Derek out into the drizzle. When he put his bags in the helicopter, the dog whined pitifully. “We’re just going to lock the doors, and then we can go,” Derek promised. “I won’t leav
e you behind.”

  The dog stayed right at Derek’s heels as he locked the door and hoped he’d have a house to come back to when he finished this project for Kenneth. “Come on, Fido.”

  They slogged back to the helicopter. Derek helped Fido jump in and climbed in after him. He strapped the dog to one of the seats and then fastened his own seatbelt. Taking the headset the pilot offered him, he waited for the helicopter to take off before asking, “Where are we going?”

  “South Texas station, unit three,” the pilot answered. “There’s a team waiting for you.”

  “And the dog?”

  “I guess you’ll have to take him with you.”

  That wasn’t what Derek had had in mind when he’d told Kenneth he expected someone to take care of his dog, but it would have to do until he could get Kenneth on the phone again.

  They spent the next hour in relative silence. Derek looked down at the devastation from the hurricane, the sight killing what remained of the tequila buzz. Where once there had been a thriving city and port, industry and commerce, now there were floodwaters and rubble, only the occasional building still standing. It made him realize how lucky he was to still be alive. He peered toward downtown Houston and the Texas Medical Center, but the lingering clouds and rain blocked his view. He hoped that was the reason, that they still stood, hidden by the weather rather than flattened by the storm.

  “How bad is it?” he asked eventually.

  “It makes Katrina look like a cakewalk,” the pilot said. “Maybe one in five buildings is still standing, and even most of those are damaged. I’ve never seen anything like it. And if you can’t stop the problems at unit three, there won’t be any coming back because it won’t be safe.”

  “Let’s not borrow trouble, okay?” Derek said. “We’ve got enough real trouble as it is.”

  “You don’t think damage to a nuclear reactor is real trouble?”

  “I didn’t say that, but it isn’t Chernobyl yet or they wouldn’t be sending us in to work on it. If we can get it back online, at least we’ll have power to begin rebuilding.”

  The sound the pilot made was doubtful, but Derek let it go. He didn’t need to convince the pilot. If the rest of the team was as negative, that would be a different matter.