June 23, 2014. Monday.
George had many things to think about that afternoon. At some point on the way to the pawnshop, his thoughts turned into dreams. And so it happened, that his mind was somewhere else when he sneaked through a newly formed fence covered with many 'warning' and 'caution' signs forming a semi-circle round the entrance to the Hill's shop.
When George entered the building, instead of customers or shop owner he found four people in yellow suits, wearing gas masks. Devices in their hands emitted annoying chattering noises.
"What the hell, people?" George asked.
"Sir, you're not allowed to be here. This area is contaminated. Leave now."
"Contaminated by what?"
"Radioactivity."
The word was persuasive enough for George to turn around and go out without talking back.
Now that he was back in the real world, he tried to identify what went on around him. On the opposite side of the fence, a crowd was gathering. A military truck and an ambulance were parked close by the shop's exit. By the gap of the fence left for a drive in, armed soldiers were having an argument with the troubled citizens.
Since George's presence inside the restricted perimeter seemed to bother nobody, he decided to take a peek into both vehicles. There was nothing special inside the military truck besides a large box marked with a yellow circle with three black cones intersecting in the center, 'radioactive' written in capital letters under it. George jumped inside and tried to open the box, but for his inconvenience and luck it had a complex digital lock. He entered different digits but after three unsuccessful attempts to guess the number keypad was locked.
Unnoticed by anyone, he sneaked out of the truck, avoided the attention of medics talking in front of the ambulance and opened its back door. Inside it, strapped to stretchers lay a man in his sixties, the shop owner himself, Mr. Hill. For as long as George knew the man, his face had always been old and worried.
"C'mon George, free me out of this." Mr. Hill nodded at the hand straps.
"Huh? Are you fine, sir?"
"Kind of, I will be better after we escape."
"What happened?"
"Those military people are always so paranoid. Lend me a hand, will ya?" He nodded at the straps.
"Sure." George began removing the constraints.
"That asocial friend of yours brought me a bag of silver. Said he wanted to cash it out. So I did and put the bag in the storage room afterward. A day passed, then another, and then people started complaining. The household appliance items I returned or sold were brought back to me. Customers said that electronics of the devices were fried. I could agree that such miracle might have happened for one or two items but not more. So I checked the room and did some testing. Got still some juice in here, you know." Mr. Hill tapped the pointing finger of freed hand to his temple. "Found out that John's silver was radioactive."
George froze for a moment and then continued removing the straps, listening more attentively.
The shop owner went on, "Not sure why he did it. He does not seem to be very clever, perhaps did not know about the fact himself. The military came when I, being a law abiding citizen called 911 and explained the situation."
They both jumped out of the ambulance. The old man was quick to add, "Let the fact about John's involvement be our little secret."
Mister Hill stroked his hoary head and ended up holding a strand of hair in his hand. "Aww Crap," he said looking at the hair and fell down with a needle sticking out of his neck. His young customer, who now found himself at the wrong time in the wrong place, received the same fate.
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