As the bus unloaded, Gary watched the passengers disembarking. There was almost no one over thirty years old in the group. There were mostly families, but none of them had more than four children. Each person could bring 1 giant, Anvil issued duffle bag and a personal bag, like a small backpack. In the case of Shelter Eighty-Seven, each individual was provided with a ten by ten living area. In the case of a family, the allocated living space had been doubled.

There were three different cafeterias for the eleven hundred and fifty shelter inhabitants, along with a well-equipped medical clinic that could deal with most medical and surgical issues. There was a swimming pool and several theaters, as well as computer facilities and a bowling alley. The fitness center was quite large and there was a large conference center which doubled as a chapel. Two dozen classrooms had been set up which could be used for everything from education to private meetings.

There was an enormous amount of underground storage space which contained everything needed now, and what would be required when this group finally left this underground warren twenty years from now.

The facility was powered by a small nuclear reactor, smaller but similar in design to the one at the mountain. The only significant difference being that all the automated processes hadn't been put in place since there would be a crew of trained personnel managing the reactor at all times. The reactor was water-cooled, and the water was pumped from the Grand River, two miles away.

Gary was amazed at how this had all been accomplished without anyone at the state or local level becoming aware of what they were doing here. He'd once asked how all this could happen without inspections and proper procedures being followed and was told that a little money in the right places could move mountains.

While he accepted this as truth, Gary never forgot the one inspector who'd come by shortly after he'd asked that question. The man showed up eight or nine months ago and started making inquiries and demanding to see permits. Gary had put him off for as long as possible, explaining that this was a federal disaster shelter, but the young inspector didn't care. All the while Gary was communicating with a person who he knew only as Mr. Roberts. Mr. Roberts' phone number was provided to Gary to use as a resource if any problems arose during preparations.

One morning, the inspector was at the gate again demanding access to the facility and was not going to be delayed another day. As the argument began heating up Gary's cell phone rang.

Without answering it, or even looking at it, he handed it to the inspector and told him that the call was for him.

The man had a confused expression as he opened the phone and said a hesitant “Hello?”