RADIOACTIVE! 115
main highway. What caught the boys’ eyes was a piece of galvanized iron roofing which had been ripped off the building by the blast. The tires had passed over it!
“You’re right, Bud,” Tom exclaimed. “Someone must have pulled away from here after the blast, while we were unconscious!” Tom added with a thoughtful frown, “Which means the blast must have been accidental-not a booby trap.”
Within moments, screaming sirens heralded the arrival of fire trucks. An ambulance sped to the scene close behind them. Pumps were set up on the beach and fire hoses played streams of sea water over the blazing ruins.
Just as the last flames were quenched, a Swift cargo jet streaked into view. It lowered onto the sand by its jet lifters, and half a dozen Enterprises men climbed out. Among them were Hank Sterling, Harlan Ames, and Arv Hanson.
“Open the hatch and get out that portable crane,” Hank ordered his assistants.
Tom and the others hastily donned hooded antiradiation coveralls. As they approached the still-smoking wreckage, the red lights on their suit meters flashed a warning.
“The place is radioactive, all right,” Bud muttered.
The firemen-and spectators who had stopped along the highway-were warned back. Then Hank supervised his crane crew, all in antiradia-116 TRIPHIBIAN ATOMICAR
tion suits, in the job of clearing away the debris to look for victims.
Tom and Bud, inspecting the undamaged part of the building, found two unconscious men, both wearing once white laboratory coats. The boys helped carry them to the ambulance.