Jacqueline Druga - Protocol One

“You earned four gallons.”

After a grunt, I held up my hand to the man and went to the back of the van. I grabbed my duffel bag and handed him two foil blankets, one bag of rations, which I explained was three days worth of food, and a bottle of Ibuprofen. “What does that get us?”

“Twenty gallons.”

“We’re good,” Tony said, “That will work.”

“Wait.” I held up my hand.

“Anna, we’re good,” Tony repeated.

“We need the gas.”

I pulled my old Bingo Sack from the duffel bag, reached in and grabbed two items. “Solid Gold St. Christopher medal, and two wedding bands.”

The man smiled. “Fill her up.”

Tony reached for the van door. “You still had your wedding rings. Sentimental value?”

“Call it keen foresight,” I said. “I have more gold.”

“Good thinking.”

Tony filled up the tank and we were on our way. Fortunately, we were able to find a good road north and we moved onward without stopping.

Craig Milton heard the early rumors about possible detention of medical personal and high tailed it out of Missouri. Knowing we had to go east, but not knowing where he headed to a safe location.

He found sanctuary in a closed down military base used only for clerical purposes. The base was just outside of Champaign, Illinois.

It was easy to spot. As we pulled through the small town, people looked at us oddly. They were packing cars and driving the opposite way.

We made contact with Craig by way of phone and he was waiting just inside the fence next to the guard booth.

Once he saw us pull forward, he started removing gas cans from the booth.

We stopped the van and Tony instructed everyone to walk it off for a few moments while we loaded the top of the van with the gas and the two bags Craig brought.

He was a lot younger than I expected. A clean cut and exceptionally handsome guy, stood waiting on us.

“Dr. Milton?” I shook his hand, and then Tony did.

“Call me Craig.” He sounded nervous. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

“None of us can. Thank you,” I said.

“This was an odd location for a St. Louis man,” Tony said.

“I can’t take all the credit. My partner works here and suggested it.”

Tony’s hand shot to his head. I didn’t understand his reaction.

“What? What am I missing?” I asked.

“I’m gonna guess he’s here?” Tony asked.

Craig nodded. “He’s in the booth.”

“And…” Tony, in his typical sarcastic way lifted his hands. “And I’m guessing… he’s not planning on staying behind, is he?”

“He will.” Craig said without hesitation. “He will. If it isn’t good for him to go, he will stay behind. I just…”

“Nonsense,” I said.

“What?” Tony blasted.

“It’s his partner. We’ll need him. He goes.” I stated.

“Thank you.”

From the security booth, another younger man emerged. He was just as clean cut and handsome. He too had blonde hair like Craig. The young man held a gas can and then from behind him walked an older man maybe sixty who also held a gas can.

Tony did a quick pivot with a fake smile. “Let me guess. Your father?” he asked Craig.

“Yes. We brought extra gas. And I brought extra supplies to make up…” Before he finished Tony got in the van.

I placed my hands on his shoulder. “Tell your father to get in. We’ll be fine. Load up.”

Everyone returned from their walk and bathroom break and greeted the newcomers in a welcoming way.

Joie, before taking her seat, asked Tony, “What’s wrong, Daddy? Are you mad?”

“No. Daddy isn’t mad.” He kissed her. “I just want to get moving.”

“Look at all these people.”

“Yes, look.” Tony gripped the wheel in frustration. “Take your seat.”

Joie moved to the back bench with Jackson, Melissa and Nelly. Our newest members sat in the seat behind us.

“Tony,” I tried to calm him.

“You realize this van seats eight. We have nine and another person to pick up. That is, of course, if he doesn’t bring his aunt, uncle and favorite neighbor.”

“Tony, you realize you are just as much a stowaway as they are. And does it really matter? Right now, with all that is happening, does it really matter?”

“No. No it doesn’t. You’re the boss.” Tony started the van. It was a little after four when we left the base.

Akron, Ohio was six hours away. We still had a chance, if we weren’t forced to stop for the night, of getting to the bunker before time was up.

Indianapolis, Indiana

We didn’t have a choice. In order to get to our destination, we had to go through or at least inside the city limits of Indianapolis. Most of the traffic was heading toward the main highway going south, but anyway you went it was bumper to bumper.

The van was hot and we had to turn off the air conditioning to conserve fuel. Everyone was staying calm, we were on our way.

We opted for no more news because we didn’t need to hear about the violence and evacuation traffic, we were living it.

Melissa was able to navigate us through the suburbs and her planned route would bring us back to the beltway east of the city. Once there, we hoped to move more freely.

It was frightening what we saw and how fast law and order flew out the window.

From calm at the gas station to three hours later. What a difference. Maybe it was because we were in a major city.

A black cloud of smoke hovered over Indianapolis. We could only guess it was a fire or lots of them.

In the outlying communities that we traveled, businesses were looted and grocery stores were chaotic. People raced down the streets with shopping carts. We watched two men fight a woman over a cart, throw her to the street, and run off with supplies.

There was nothing we could do.

Desperation wasn’t turning into man helping man, it was man turning on man.

I could only imagine what would have happened to this world if the news had broken earlier. Humanity would have done it’s damage long before the comet could.

Things had taken a violent turn and we all watched in silence rolling slowly through it all, thankfully unscathed and unnoticed. People were too busy.

It was breathtaking in a negative way. The worst part of the news was right there outside out windows.

I felt the most tense as we waited on the ramp to get back onto the highway.

But once we made it, I breathed out.

“Not much longer,” Tony pointed. “It’s up ahead. You can see things moving more freely.”

We inched our way down the highway which lay witness to something else.

People were holding signs, pushing their belongings in carts and entire families were walking along the highways.

‘Help us – No car’ some signs read.

‘We have food. Need ride’

“Don’t even think about it,” Tony told me.

The van moved from its turtle’s pace to a complete halt as we reached the bottle neck on the road where most of the traffic was trying to go south. I felt uncomfortable, even worried, with everyone walking up to cars, holding signs and asking for help.

In my attempt to ignore them, I turned to engage in conversation with everyone.

Craig’s father, Duke didn’t take his focus from the window.

“So, Skyler, right?” I spoke to the young man with Craig. “You’re a doctor?”

“No ma’am,” he said. “I’m supply and maintenance at the base. I’m in the Army. Or was.”

“AWOL.” Craig clarified.

“You’re not a doctor?” I asked, confused.

Craig looked at me curiously. “Why would you think that?’