"Come on, come on! Get in!" they shout. Just before the heavy metal door slams shut, the family dog, Pick, quickly is whisked inside.
Standing shoulder to shoulder, they listen as the sound of the siren's wail trails off, replaced by the thud of the rocket landing. Returning to the television news a few minutes later, they see it has landed a few blocks away at a local soccer stadium.
Earlier in the day, another rocket landed much closer -- just across the street.
The Grad-type missile hit a construction site, killing Hani el Mahdi, a 27-year old construction worker from a Bedouin town in the Negev, and injured several other workers at the scene, some of them seriously.
"After hearing the boom this morning I'm just not myself,” said Geula Levi, 50, whose house quickly filled up with family members. “I've been trying to make lunch but I simply can't seem to get anything together.”
Since the fighting began over the weekend, two of Levi’s adult children have moved back in, one of them bringing his wife and their 2-month-old daughter. The baby never leaves the reinforced room. Her mother, Vered, ventures out only to get food from the kitchen.
About 60 rockets were fired from Gaza into Israel on Monday. Many landed in Ashkelon, about 10 miles north of the Gaza Strip. Some reached as far as Ashdod, some 20 miles from Gaza, killing one woman as she bolted her car to take cover at a bus stop.
This week marks the first time these two major coastal cities have been subject to ongoing rocket barrages from Gaza. Ashkelon, home to some 120,000 people, had been targeted before, but hit only rarely. Ashdod had been considered out of range of Gaza’s rocket fire, but Hamas’ newly imported missiles -- thought to be smuggled into the strip from Egypt during the six-month cease-fire that officially ended Dec. 19 -- have increased the range of Gaza’s rockets.
Geula Levi said she was fully supportive of the army's operation in Gaza, which by late Monday had killed 350 Palestinians in Gaza, most of them Hamas militiamen, according to reports.
“They learned their lessons from the Second Lebanon War so I think this time things will be conducted more intelligently," she said of Israel’s military leaders.
"We’d rather suffer with the missiles now than become like Kiryat Shemona, which suffered for years," said her eldest son, Avichai, 27.
Outside, the sound of Israeli artillery being fired into Gaza echoed in the streets, which were quiet and mostly empty. Staring out into the eerie emptiness were campaign posters for the upcoming election, including a billboard with a photograph of Foreign Minister Tzipi Livni next to the words, "The courage to say the truth.”
Livni’s party, along with those of her main rivals, canceled campaign events scheduled for this week.
At the entrance to Ashkelon, one of those rivals, Defense Minister Ehud Barak, the architect of the Israeli strike on Gaza, had his own image up on a billboard with the slogan "Looking truth in the face."
For the people of Ashkelon, who are living their leaders' "truths," there was stoicism mixed with fear.
"It is miserable but it will go on for a while," said Capt. David Biton, the police commander who oversees the southern district that includes half a million people and stretches from Ashdod to Sderot -- all now within range of Gaza’s rockets.
Galit Ben-Asher Yonah, 37, said it was "the shock of my life” to discover that her home in Gan Yavne, a bedroom community near Ashdod, now has come under attack.
Gan Yavne was hit for the first time Sunday, and two more rockets fell Monday. It is the farthest point north that the rockets have reached to date.
Yonah, originally from Los Angeles, is the mother of two young daughters and a newborn son. She says she will be keeping all her children at home for the next few days.
"Never in my life did I think I would have to explain to my 5-year-old that we have to go to the basement because a bomb was falling,” she said. “And there she was guiding me, telling me to cover my head with my hands and stay away from the window as she was taught in nursery school."
Tal, her 5-year-old, also brought down a snack of bananas and cookies for them after the first rocket fell, telling her in a serious but calm voice that they might be sitting in the basement, which is reinforced against rockets, for a while.
In nearby Nitzan, where many of the families who were evicted three years ago from the Gush Katif settlement bloc in Gaza live in temporary homes, there are no protective rooms to which to flee.
"We left the Kasssam rockets to get Katyushas instead," said Yuval Nefesh, 41, referring to the longer-range Katyusha rockets now striking Israel from Gaza. Before, Palestinians relied almost exclusively on the Kassam, a crude rocket with a range of 10 miles and poor accuracy.
He shrugs when asked how the people are coping. "We pray," he said.
Nefesh is still in touch with some of the Palestinians from Gaza he met while living there, and he said he has been talking to them by phone since the Israeli air assault began.
Outside, the Elikum Shwarma and Kebab restaurant was one of the few bustling businesses in Ashkelon on Monday. Delivery people were busy ferrying orders to the thousands of people staying indoors.
Avi Zarad, working the cash register, tried to maintain a cheerful atmosphere.
"We can't send out a message of being stressed out," he said. A few minutes later a siren sounded and, with no shelter to run to, the customers continued eating calmly.
The soccer stadium where a rocket fell an hour earlier is just across the road.
"We are getting used to it, but it's a horrible reality," said Kinneret Cohen, a restaurant worker preparing salads in the kitchen. "We just breathe deeply knowing we have to give the army time to do its work."