Jacqueline Druga - What Tomorrow Brings

“Mom, thank you for not sending me away,” Zeke said.

“Uncle Rege had a good point, but I can’t take you with me to look for Jillie. Not yet, not at this point, so please don’t ask.”

“You can’t go alone.”

“I’m hoping Abe will go, he’s a really good guy. If not maybe Harland knows someone in town.”

“Why can’t I go?”

“Because I don’t know what’s out there. No one knows what’s out there. If you go, you’ll try to be brave and I’ll worry.”

“What am I supposed to do? Sit back, and wait and worry about you?”

“Yes, that’s exactly what you’re supposed to do.” More than anything Kit wanted her son by her side. She knew going with him she’d worry to much about making sure he was fine, fed and safe. Despite being seventeen, he was still her child. She needed her mind to be on finding her mother and daughter, not worrying every minute about keeping Zeke safe.

When they arrived at Central Medical, they were able to swing through the drop off. Abe took over driving, while Zeke helped the man inside with Kit.

Harland was there in the thick of things and made eye contact with Kit. He looked at her with surprise.

After instructing Zeke to, “Get him checked in, please,” she walked over to Harland.

“That was fast. Everything alright?”

“No. My brothers are bad.” Kit’s voice quivered. “Mark especially. Zeke said he’d make them a blue code, but sick wise, he’s far worse than anyone I checked in yesterday.”

“Where are they? Why did you leave?” Harland asked.

“They left.”

“Excuse me?”

“My father got them on a transport going north to Vancouver. When the transport refuels, Mark and Regis are heading to Spokane to find Mark’s son.”

“Wait. Wait. Your father. I thought he was dead.”

Kit held up her hand. “Long story. I’ll share it later.”

“Okay, I can wait. Considering your father was part of the government, I’m sure it’s a dozy. Where is he now?”

“On his way down to New Mexico, then he’s leaving to search for my sister.”

Harland nodded. “They came and got a lot of the plane survivors. Not all, but a lot. I’m going to take it you didn’t go because you have a search of your own to do.”

“Yes, in two weeks another transport is going north. I’m hoping to catch that. If not I’ll find another way.”

“We’ll make sure of it.” Harland then gave an up nod of his head toward Zeke. “What’s going on with your son?”

“My dad wanted me to send him to Canada. My brother suggested I not lose track of my son.”

“Smart man. What now?”

“Well, I have to find a place for me and my son while I wait out the two weeks.”

“You can stay at my place,” Harland said. “We should be able to move up into the house soon.”

“I don’t want to put you out.”

“You’re not. So don’t think it. What about in two weeks? What are you going to do with the boy?”

“I think I’ll take him to Schriever,” Kit said. “He can stay there while I search.”

“You might be gone a while. I mean realistically Kit, if there is no transport, you search camps, you could be gone weeks, months.”

“I know.”

“Why not have him stay here? He can stay with me. I give you my word, I’ll watch him. I’ll put him to work, but he’ll be safe here.”

“Harland, I can’t ask that of you.”

“You’re not,” Harland said. “We’ll need him around here. We’re gonna start our long term plan for the town and lots of hands are needed. Trust me.”

“I do. And…” Kit exhaled. “I accept. My mind is so cluttered right now, I think I need to work and help out.”

“You sure?” Harland asked.

“Yes. Very. Thank you for everything,.” She started to walk but stopped. “Harland? What’s next?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, what’s next? I mean, what do you think is the best we can expect”

“That’s an awfully big question, Kit. I’m sure some are preparing long term and some are only looking at what tomorrow brings. No one can say. I can say this. I don’t know what will happen with the rest of the country, but here in Maltese…” Harland said. “It’ll be tough and hard work, but we’re gonna be okay. I believe that.”

A part of Kit did too. She didn’t worry about Maltese. She saw how they got it together to help others. It was the rest of the country she was worried about and she hadn’t scratched the surface of knowing the reality of what was beyond that small county in Colorado.

It was a Thursday, at least Regis believed it was Thursday when they left Schriever. They rested on the plane, even though the bench seats were uncomfortable. Regis truly believed some car or truck would be waiting there to take them to Spokane. A truck was there, he drove them as far as Ritzville, Washington, but he then had to go west on I-90 to deliver supplies.

Even though Mark’s son lived in a house with his mother off of I-90, they were still over fifty miles away.

On foot.

The flight was hard and the six hour drive in the front seat of the supply truck wasn’t easy. Both Regis and Mark were sick. Mark barely stayed awake and rested his head on Regis’ shoulder the whole drive.

Stan the driver was kind, asking if they needed to stop at all. Regis knew they had to push forward.

Arriving at Spokane was starting to become more of a dream that a destination. By the first evening they were in Ritzville so they stopped there for the night.

A hand painted sign read, ‘No Stragglers’ and a man in a pickup truck at the exit stood watch. He insisted he was following the rules for his town, but offered to let them sleep in the truck until day break.

That was the first night. The sun rose and set three more times and they were felt no closer to Spokane than they did when they stepped off the plane.

They ate crackers and water and soft foods because they were unable to chew, or keep anything down. Every part of Regis’ body hurt, his legs weakened after a hundred feet of walking, they spent more time stopping than they did walking.

They had the highway to themselves and it was for the most part barren. A few abandoned cars were scattered about and they took advantage when they found one.

What were they thinking? Regis wondered. They were so weak to begin with, did they actually think they’d make it all the way there?

Regis never said anything about quitting, neither did Mark. They’d move forward for as long as they could. Even if Regis wanted to quit, he wouldn’t. For Mark’s sake, they kept moving.

Each foot, each mile, they staggered. Legs wobbling, until they reached the point where they held on to each other, locked arms, just to keep standing.

Mark whimpered when he saw the ‘seventeen miles’ sign.

“I can’t. I can’t.” He stopped, dropping to his knees.

“Okay, we’ll stop, come on.” Regis helped him up. “We’ll rest over there.”

“We been walking for four days. We aren’t going to make it.”

“We’ll make it.”

“Rege, I’m so sick.”

“I know, me too.” Regis led him to the side where they rested against the metal barrier on the shoulder of the road. “Sit. We’ll take a break.”

Mark waved sluggishly. “I don’t think I can.”

“We’re close. We’re so close.” Regis said, reached in his bag and pulled out some water. “Come on. Take a drink.”

Mark shook his head.

Regis then sipped the water and swished it around his dry mouth. He could feel the sores in his mouth tighten each time he moved his jaw. After another drink, he forced the bottle to Mark’s mouth.