Jacqueline Druga - Protocol One

It went from ‘we were the few who knew and were driving with a secret’ to ‘we were one of the many on a desperate race to get to safe ground.’

“Daddy…”

“This is the exit,” I pointed. “Make a right off this exit and the farm is two miles down the road.”

“Almost there,” Tony looked in the mirror. “We… aw.” He smacked his hand off the wheel. “People this is an ‘off’ exit! What are they doing?”

Where the exit ahead was jammed with cars trying to cut in on a packed highway with vehicles going faster than they should, drivers had resorted to using the off ramps. Not many, but I guessed it wouldn’t be long before it was full as well. We had seen at least a dozen accidents in the short period of time. People were driving erratically and Tony was no exception.

Joie hollered out another warning of her bathroom needs as Tony cut to the side of the road causing the van to bounce and his daughter to scream.

He cringed.

We made it to the secondary road and were almost at the farm.

Melissa was specific about when we got to the farm road, we’d come across a ‘Y’ and for us to bear right.

I saw why when we got there.

There were people all over the hills, running through the fields. In the small farm store, cars jam packed the lot and a single worker stood outside. He looked frazzled and defeated as people rushed into the store.

“Daddy, are we almost…” Pause. “Never mind.”

Jackson laughed. “Dude, your daughter just pissed everywhere back here.”

I bit my lip, trying not to laugh.

“I’m sorry,” Tony said. “I am.”

“For what? Besides, I’m close to joining her,” I said. “You stopped once and that was only long enough to dump a can of gas in the tank. I’ve been wiggling for the last hour.”

I didn’t know what to expect from Melissa. We had no description. All I knew was she was an agricultural expert. She stood outside a small tin trailer with a large metal briefcase and duffel bag. Next to her luggage were three large orange gas cans. She didn’t look like a scientist. The thickly built woman with short blonde cropped hair looked like a hands on person, wearing jeans and a tee shirt.

“We’ll make this fast.” Tony said as he pulled up. “Go use her bathroom, I’ll get Joie changed, and Jackson can load her stuff.”

I nodded in agreement and opened the door.

“Anna?” Melissa walked up to me. “Hi, I’m Melissa.”

“I know.” I shook her hand quickly. “Nice to meet you. Do you have a bathroom in there?”

She barely said ‘yes’ with a point and I flew into that trailer.

It had a desk and counter. A small table with chairs was by the door and an older woman in her eighties, wearing a scarf and an unseasonal trench coat, held a big giant purse tightly to her chest as she sat in one of the chairs.

“Bathroom?” I asked.

She pointed to the small door at the end of the trailer.

I didn’t think much about the presence of the older woman. I was more focused on using the long overdue facilities. When I emerged, the woman was gone.

Stepping from the trailer, feeling so much better, I noticed Tony with his arms folded, leaning against the door. He looked… for lack of a better word… perturbed.

I didn’t see Jackson or Joie. They were probably in the van. Just Melissa and the older woman stood outside.

“Tony? What’s wrong?”

After tightening his lips, he lifted a hand, said nothing and continued in his arms crossed pose.

Nervously, Melissa walked up to me. “It’s me.”

“What’s going on? Are you not going?” I asked.

“This…” She pulled the older woman forward. “Is my grandmother. Nelly. She raised me since I was a child.”

Clueless at that moment, I smiled. “Oh, it’s nice to meet you.” I looked at Melissa. “We have to go. Things are getting crazy.”

Tony cleared his throat. “That’s the issue.”

Melissa stuttered. “I… I can’t leave her. I can’t. She’s very healthy, but I can’t leave her.”

Nelly reached into her trench coat pocket and pulled out a cigarette, lighting it. “I told her to go. I’ll watch the fireworks. I’m fine.”

“You heard Nelly,” Tony reached for the van door. “She said go.”

“Tony.” I scolded.

“Anna,” he replied. “It’s another person.”

I was hesitant to say it, but I did. “Tony, you brought your daughter.”

“She’s a child,” Tony defended. “A small child. My child.”

Melissa barked at Tony. “And she’s my grandmother.”

“Who is very content to smoke her Pall Malls and watch the world end.” Tony said.

“Oh my God.” I closed my eyes, slightly embarrassed.

“I won’t leave her,” Melissa said passionately. “I can’t.”

“There’s no reason why you should.” I told her. “She can come.”

“Anna…” Tony called my name.

“She comes.” I stated firmly. “There’s plenty of room in the shelter and van. But we have to go….now.”

Melissa embraced me. “Thank you.”

Tony opened the side door, giving me a sideways glance. As Nelly struggled to get in, refusing help, Tony held her extra large handbag. “What the hell do you have in here?”

“Survival supplies,” Nelly answered and climbed in.

As Tony parted the bag, I peeked over his shoulder. The entire bag was cartons of cigarettes. He returned the bag asking, “Did you bring any clothes?”

Nelly sat down and took the bag. “I’ll sit naked if I have to as long as I have my Pall Malls.”

Showing more strength than I thought she had, she shut that van door.

Tony jumped back.

“We need to go. We are still ahead of schedule.”

I got back in the van while Tony filled the tank. We had additional gas and were doing well. Despite the loss of seven hours before impact time, at the rate we were going, we would still arrive before the comet.

Perryville, MO

A straight route to St. Louis, under normal circumstances, combined with Speed Racer Tony’s driving, would have been five hours. But reports of highway traffic only reconfirmed that we had to take Melissa’s alternate route. She had actual maps, something our culture had completely forgotten how to use.

We relied so heavily on internet and satellite navigation, we lost the ability to look at a map and spot a side road.

Not Melissa.

She had us going good, and when Dr. Craig Milton sent a text saying he had to escape St. Louis, Melissa worked hard on finding another way for us.

Tony should have listened to her.

His argument was valid. We were wasting time and gas on the back roads. Melissa countered that sitting in traffic wasted gas as well. She said to stay east as long as possible. Tony wanted to head north.

Finally after thirty minutes of arguing, they compromised. Choosing a route that wasn’t a highway, but wasn’t a back road.

That was a mistake.

At first we didn’t think so. The road was eerily free and clear, and then we were pulled over.

“I knew it,” I told Tony. “You can’t continuously go eighty in a fifty zone without a cop getting you.”

“That’s not the cops.”

Before I could ask who it was, a soldier approached Tony’s window.

“Evening sir,” the soldier said politely, peering in the window. “I’m gonna have to ask you folks to pull over or you can head into the elementary school a mile up the road to park for the night. ”

“We’re just heading north to get a friend.”

“I understand, but there is no northern travel during the curfew. We’re trying to keep all roads clear for evacuation. North is not is an evacuation area.”