Jacqueline Druga - Fallout

He was laughed at. He wondered now how many of his comrades were laughing as their sons went to war.

Liu’s attention was disrupted for a moment, when the flight attendant quietly placed his lunch on the table. He nodded a thank you to her and she left. A few seconds later, Fen sat across from him and was given her lunch.

“Thank you,” she said to the flight attendant.

“An entire plane,” said the general. “Yet you choose to sit with me.”

“You’ve been quiet and we have much to discuss.”

“I have been quiet because I am thinking about the one hundred and seventy-three thousand military that are in Texas, and the report that we have not secured nine of the fifteen bases. Nine? How have we not secured that many?”

“It is concerning, yes.” She nodded. “But we have now secured something better.”

“And that is?”

With an arrogant smile she lifted her drink to her lips. “The new President of the United States.”

There was a point when Cal lost consciousness. Sometime between the arrival of the yellow suit people and his journey, full speed, on his back down a hallway. The overhead lights seemed to have a strobe effect, causing even more confusion on his part.

“Sir, sir,” the male voice called to him. “What is your name?”

Cal’s head went side to side. It was hard to tell what exactly ailed him, he felt so poorly.

“Sir, do you hear me? Look at me.”

Cal blinked, the light above the man’s head made him a shadow. He could only make out a little of his face, and even that was blurry.

“What is your name?”

“Cal. Owen Calhoun.”

“Owen, listen to me, I need you to stay with me. Try to stay awake. Okay?”

“Cal, my name…” he groaned, his head going side to side trying to see what was going on. One minute he was lucid the next he was grappling with reality and a plethora of noises he couldn’t discern. Moans, talking, shouting.

“Mr. Calhoun, do you know the names of the people you were with?” he asked, grabbing Cal’s arm.

Cal felt a pinch. “Um… Louise.”

“The woman’s name is Louise.”

“Diabetic.”

“She’s diabetic? Thank you. The two men? Their names?”

“Rick. Ricky. The cop… Jake.”

“Thank you. Do you…”

Cal jolted when he heard a painful cry, a woman, it was close. Out of breath and panicked, Cal tried to get up. “Louise. That was Louise.”

“Calm down.”

“Where am I? Who are you?” Cal felt the sudden sensation of warmth running through his veins. “Where?”

“You’re at an expedient medical station.” The man’s voice sounded distant, echoing, and it began to fade. “Mr. Calhoun, stay with us.”

What was happening? Why did things start to spin… float…?

“Mr. Calhoun?”

A long beep rang out.

Everything went black.

Gasp!

Cal jolted and his eyes opened wide as he wheezed, loudly at first. Cal thought he just dozed off, a brief instant of passing out, then he realized it was more than that. It was quiet, the multitudes of voices and the mayhem were gone.

He tried to move but as soon as he did, his entire body hurt. His chest especially. He cringed and reached for his chest when he realized he was hooked to monitors. He tilted his head to the left to try and see what was going on. The overhead lights were bright and everything farther than a few feet away was blurry.

“Wonderful,” a gentle female voice said. “You’re awake.”

Cal looked up to the woman leaning over him. She smiled with a gentleness, a few strands of blonde hair dangled in her face as she glanced down. The rest of her hair was pulled back.

“Don’t try to move. You’re hooked up. I need to get a doctor.”

“How long was I passed out?”

“Passed out? No.” She forced a closed mouth smile. “Unconscious, coma. You’ve been in critical condition.”

“How long?”

“I don’t know for sure. I just was transferred here yesterday. I believe five days.”

“Five days?” Cal groaned. “How was I critical? Was it the radiation sickness?”

“You suffered cardiac arrest.”

“I had a heart attack?”

She nodded. “It did allow your body to rest enough that we could treat the radiation. You are recovering. The road ahead is long for you. I won’t lie.”

“Who are you?” Cal asked.

“Leana. I’m a nurse here,” she answered.

“The people… the people I came in with. Where are they?” Cal asked.

She shook her head. “I don’t know. Who did you come in with? I can check.”

“Please. I need to know if they’re okay. Especially the woman. They came with me. Jake, Ricky, and Louise.”

“Any last names?”

Cal closed his eyes. “I’m drawing a blank.”

“That’s fine.” She placed her hand on his. “I’ll go see what I can find out. I’ll be back. In the meantime, please don’t move.”

Cal nodded as his form of agreement. Leana slipped her hand from his and walked away. Cal blinked several times, clearing the blurriness form his eyes. He was in some sort of large room, a gymnasium perhaps. Even though things were still a bit visually foggy, Cal could still see he wasn’t alone in that gym, far from it. All around him were people, massive amounts of people, all laying on cots in a pseudo hospital setting. Upon seeing that, he rested his eyes again. Clearly it was going to take Nurse Leana a while, and what else did he have to do but lay there.

Toby’s assessment about the building had been correct. He theorized that it was still standing, or at the very least it hadn’t collapsed, blocking them in. He came to this conclusion because people left. When Harris didn’t let them in, those who lacked patience abandoned the basement hallway. They took the stairs and never returned. Either they made it out or were somehow killed.

Toby was banking on the former.

They had no idea what was waiting for them when they left the bunker. They stayed on the assumption that the bombs were nuclear. They had been so cut off that anything was possible when they emerged.

For all they knew everything could be gone, or they’d step outside to rescue workers and a media circus.

No matter how much he tried to mentally prepare for the worst, there wasn’t enough mental preparation in the world for Toby.

His heart shattered, and Cleveland wasn’t even his hometown.

They carried the remaining provision with them and slowly ascended the stairs.

Three flights up steps. That was all they had to endure.

The second they hit the first set of stairs, the smell of old smoke permeated the air. The second staircase brought blackened walls and charred debris scattered about. Just as they hit street level, they had to climb over chunks of concrete and wood.

The door was warped but it opened enough for them to slip through.

Before the attack, the stairwell opened into a wide, long hallway with swirling gray marble floors. The hallway wasn’t far from the main foyer.

It was hard to even discern a floor, there was so much rubble around them. Like walking a maze, they navigated around the fallen beams and mounds of destruction. While the building was technically still standing, it had become a mere skeleton of what it was.

Their journey from the basement to the outside was a quiet one.

It was daylight, but the sky was heavily overcast, and everything had a gray feel to it. The temperature outside had plummeted, and the streets were quiet.

No one was around. Not a soul. Not a sound.

Whatever hit Cleveland left it virtually unrecognizable. There were no discerning landmarks, nor reference of direction.