From the Fire II Read Online Free PDF

camouflaged. It was bulky, at least eight pounds, and spray painted with the codes “TA-838A/TT :: iv.1-2013,” whatever that meant. Clicking the thing on and holding the antiquated receiver to mouth and ear, she listened. Of course there was nothing. No dial tone, not even the pulse of a lost line. But the unit was humming as its batteries were spinning themselves to life.
    What the Hell can I do with a phone of all things?
    But still, this phone was familiar. For some reason. Resting her head with her fingers steepled at the back of her neck, she closed her eyes and tried to remember. Another world, another day long ago.
    ~
    “Nice phone, Tom. So very stylish. Surplus City?”
    “Something like that.”
    “Ah. So if this world ends, we call the next planet. Hopefully collect. Better rates at night. Right?”
    “Hey, you’re really funny! No. See, it’s for … a lesser disaster.”
    “A lesser disaster? Is this one your ‘military intelligence’ jokes?”
    “No, see? Like ... like a fire, or earthquake, or pandemic or something.”
    “A pandemic is ‘ lesser’ ?”
    “Ha. Okay, you’re tired. Slide it back, it’s okay. See, it wouldn’t be any good in a nuclear war, God forbid. You know. I just thought … for Lacie …”
    “Oh. Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t —”
    “Huh? No, it’s fine. Look, let’s just go, okay?”
    ~
    Let’s just go.
    And here she was. She clicked the field phone off, lowered the dome and pushed it back onto its tray.
    She decided, in that moment as the green fluorescents flickered down and died, not to feel anything. Not unless she truly couldn’t help it.
    The second aluminum panel door revealed a compact Intel computer, which she harbored even fewer hopes for than she had the useless phone. The third panel stuck on its hinge, but she levered it open with both hands. She cursed as the gauze of a trailing bandage snagged in the door-joint and bit into her tender fingers. Levering the panel open further, she saw a Grundig radio, an ominous-looking technical beast socketed into a conical faraday cage, replete with a headset and a wooden box full of gadgets.
    Wooden? Interesting. Then she remembered. The box had belonged to Tom’s father, he had been a shortwave radio man in Vietnam long ago.
    Perhaps the radio would be her answer. But first, she needed to see all of her potential options, her array of four tissue-thin hopes hidden behind the doors, sacred keys with which to reach out to an outer world which was probably already in its death throes.
    The thing behind the fourth door, it took her awhile to identify.
    What in the world?
    It was a telegraph. Mouth open in disbelief, shaking her head at how little she really knew about survival or shelters or any of those things which were never supposed to happen in a world filled with sane human beings, her gaze wandered to the black binders she had stacked upon the floor. Each binder had a separate title card inserted beneath the vinyl spine, with Tom’s characteristic inverse capital-letter formatting in evidence on every single one.
    Turning, she slid off the stool, and sat on the floor with all of the vertical-standing binders arrayed in a semicircle before her. There was so much to read, so much to know if she was going to live on and find her daughter. It was overwhelming:
    ~
    (a)NIMAL HUSBANDRY / (l)IVESTOCK SUMMARY / (r)EGIONAL SPECIES.
    (a)RCHITECTURE / (r)EINFORCEMENT / (u)NFINISHED EXCAVATION.
    (b)UCKLEY / (p)ETERSEN / (a)CADEMY.
    (c)ABLING / (p)IPING / (w)IRING / (p)LUMBING.
    (c)ARSON / (f)ITZSIMMONS / (p)UEBLO.
    (c)LOTHING / (s)EWING / (w)EAVING.
    (c)OMMUNICATION / (e)NCRYPTION / (s)TEGANOGRAPHY.
    (c)OMPUTER / (d)ATA RESTORATION / (d)EEP INTERNET.
    (c)RAFT / (w)OODWORKING / (l)EATHERWORKING / (p)OTTERY / (t)EXTILES.
    (d)EFENSE / (o)BFUSCATION / (r)ECON.
    (d)ESIGN CHRONOLOGY / (f)UTURE UPGRADES.
    (f)ALLBACK / (c)ONTINGENCY.
    (f)OOD / (r)EGENERATIVES / (s)EEDS.
    (f)UEL / (e)THANOL / (p)UMPJACK.
    (f)UNGI / (l)ICHEN /