Jacqueline Druga - Fallout

Cal was envious. Even though he was getting better, he still lacked a lot of strength.

On this day, he washed and smelled fresh. He sported the cap that Jake had found for him and wore a clean shirt.

Louise noticed and said he “smelled good” but wasn’t feeling much for food. A few sips of water and she forced a smile of gratitude as Cal moistened her lips.

She wanted to try to sit up, but Cal asked her to wait one more day.

“Will I make it one more day?” she asked.

“Of course,” Cal replied. “You made it this far, right? You’re strong. You’ll beat this thing.”

“What’s going on out there, Cal?” she asked.

“What do you mean?”

“With the attacks. What’s going on? Who did this?”

Cal opened his mouth to reply but stopped. He didn’t know. He honestly didn’t know. In fact, he hadn’t thought of the logistics of what had happened and who did what. His knowledge of what occurred was limited to what was happening in that gym. He was certain he didn’t want to know and didn’t want to face that reality yet. Because if things were that bad in the little West Virginia middle-of-nowhere high school gym, he couldn’t imagine how bad it was everywhere else.

A wonderful warm meal was served on the plane and Madeline sipped on an alcoholic beverage which calmed her nerves. She had no idea where she was even after they landed. She had sat on the plane hours after they landed until it was night and had then been escorted out and placed in a windowless room off a large hanger. There inside was a cot, fresh towels, a change of clothes that consisted of tan drawstring pants and a long sleeve T-shirt. In the room was a small powder room with running water. A notebook and pen set on the folding TV tray table next to a lamp. It was simple, plain, and she was in that room for days. The only human contact she had was twice a day when they brought her a meal.

Then finally, they came for her. It was the first time she had seen daylight in a while and her eyes hurt and had to adjust. They placed her in a car with heavily tinted windows and when she arrived at her destination, she learned the location.

Had it been a mistake?

She wasn’t expecting her final stop.

Madeline knew it to be one of the finest, if not the finest hotel in San Antonio. They rushed her from the door into the hotel. The lobby had extremely high ceilings, tall windows, and white square pillars. The green block carpet mixed with marble set off the eloquent furnishings.

Immediately she was placed on an elevator and taken to the highest floor. She paused before entering the room. She may have been stepping into a grand hotel, but the brand-new, shiny lock added to the exterior of the door told her she was to make no mistake, she was still a prisoner.

The soldier nudged her into a huge suite with a window overlooking the city

A timid housekeeper stepped forward. She was American.

“Madam President.” She nodded. “They have taken the liberty of providing you with suitable clothing. You will find them in the closet and dresser. Should sizes be an issue, let us know.”

“Who?” Madeline asked. “Who is doing this?”

“Enjoy your stay. I will check back tomorrow. I am to tell you, someone will be here in an hour to speak to you.”

“Who? Who, dear?”

She rushed out, and the soldier followed. The door closed, and Madeline heard them locking it. Just to double check, she tried the handle, it wouldn’t budge.

The conveniences were there and Madeline took advantage. She showered, scrubbing her skin until it was sore. She found an outfit that fit, and when she emerged from the dressing area, she was greeted by a younger Asian woman, well dressed with a staunch demeanor.

“American President,” she said. “Allow me to introduce myself. I am agent Fen Shu, I am the head of the organization that is much like your CIA.”

“I am surprised they sent an agent. I would expect a military leader or ambassador.”

“Why is that?” Fen asked. “I am in charge and overseeing all ground base operations. I am the ambassador, if you will.” She paced slowly, her hands folded behind her back. “You are wondering now why you are where.”

Madeline nodded.

“We are not savages. You are a leader and deserve fitting accommodations. But you are in our custody.”

“A prisoner of war,” Madeline said.

“How can you be a prisoner of war?” Fen asked. “What war?” She walked to the large window in the living room of the suite. “Look out. It’s a beautiful day. I see no signs of war.”

“Maybe not here.” Madeline walked near her. “Out there are signs. Cities hit with nuclear bombs. Your soldiers with a massive land invasion.”

“Yes, we have arrived, but we didn’t start this thing.”

“The hell you didn’t.”

“The hell we did,” Fen argued. “Your people did. Your people opened the door when they decided to divide the country, to render it powerless, even just briefly. That act of terror was an invitation. One we took. And we are here to make things right.” Fen walked away from the window.

“Why did you take me?”

“You were communicating outside the country. We tracked that signal. You also are the leader. How can you lead two hundred feet underground? To me, and many others, it was as if you were hiding? What leader hides?”

“I had no choice.”

“There is always a choice. You have a choice now. Your country is crumbling. We can only do so much to help you. Many are injured, starving, homeless. Is this the country you want to lead? A good leader knows when it is time to step back. Madam President, this is your opportunity to show the world what kind of leader you really are.”

“I don’t understand,” Madeline said.

“Actually, I believe you do. You just don’t realize it yet.” Fen walked across the room, toward the door. She paused at the television. “You may turn this on. You can see what other countries are saying. You can see footage we are taking for you. Please, enjoy. Life shall be easy for you in here, unlike out there.”

“Then let me out,” Madeline said.

“We will. When you make the choice.”

“Aw, yes, the choice,” Madeline said sarcastically. “The one I am supposed to know about. Spit it out, Ms. Shu. What do you want from me?”

“Simple.” After a pause, Fen replied, “Your surrender. You need to surrender your country. You need to do what’s best. Now is your time to shine. Watch the television. Think about it. You’re not going anywhere until you do.” She opened the door and smiled. “Good day.”

Madeline didn’t even know where to begin. Surrender? It seemed absurd to her to surrender, to give up the fight before they even had a chance to engage.

Madeline wasn’t ready to give up the country, not yet. Not until she knew for sure and without a doubt that it was the only option.

The flyer was slightly crumbled and damp when Troy put it on the table before Gus. “I saw this. I’m hoping this isn’t just a fishing tournament.”

“It’s not,” Gus said.

“Good. I got about forty men hiding in the woods, waiting to know if this is safe.”

“It’s safe.”

“Thank you, sir.” Troy gave a nod of respect, turned, and walked out.

The management cabin of the vacation area was the first check point for those joining the rebellion and cause. Two men worked there constantly, one behind the counter and the other in the backroom, headphones on, monitoring messages sent via Morse Code.

If anyone arrived, such as the man who identified himself as Troy, whoever was at the desk would sound off a moose horn. The noise would carry through the valley and either Gus or Steve would make their way up the one-mile path.