Jacqueline Druga - Protocol One

There wasn’t a curfew, not in Ohio. At first I got the ridiculous fear that they were looking for Tony because he shot that man and we had the baby. But that fear quickly passed.

I was still driving and was prepared to beg the officer not to make us stop. But he was polite.

“Folks, you really need to get off the road and find a place to dig in. Impact is in two hours.” He was an older man who looked as if he were pushing retirement age.

“Thank you, Officer. We are. We’re actually in route to a good shelter.”

“Good. Good to hear. Be safe.” He tapped his hand on the edge of the window and turned.

“What about you?” I called out to him.

He stopped.

“Why are you still on the road two hours before impact?”

He turned back around and faced me, giving me a gentle smile. “Making sure folks like you get to safety, then I think… I think I’ll sit this one out.” He looked up to the sky. “Nothing to stick around for, so I’ll just watch it happen.”

“It’s not gonna happen that way,” I told him.

“Anna…” Tony called my name. “We need to go.”

I waved my hand in a hushing manner, and focused on the police officer. There was a sense of sadness coming from him that I couldn’t ignore. I spoke gently to him. “It won’t. We’re too far away for it to be instantaneous. If the sky is clear we may see it fly over but it’s gonna be slow and ugly if you’re waiting for the end to come. Then, by that point, you may decide to live and it may be too late.”

“Jesus Christ, Anna.” Tony said. “Why would you say that?”

I kept my eyes on the officer. “With so many people fighting and wanting to stay alive, it makes me sad to hear someone who wants to ‘sit it out’. If you don’t have anything ready or anywhere to go, you are welcome to follow us.”

“Thank you for that.”

“You’re welcome. Good luck, Officer.”

He tipped his hat with a nod. “Ma’am.”

I put the van in gear and pulled ahead, we weren’t far from Fleishmann.

“At least you didn’t invite him to jump in the van.” Tony commented.

I wanted to tell Tony to stop, but I didn’t. I was glad to hear him make a comment, even one of his sarcastic ones. I knew things were still bothering him, but I needed strong Tony back.

In the month before, I really thought I had gotten to know him. I knew he could kill an entire pizza himself and drink like a fish when he wanted to. He watched children’s television programs only to make fun of them. He bit his nails when he was anxious and tried to pretend no one saw him. He started GSS as a means for good soldiers and talented men and women to do what they did best and loved to do, all while making a good living.

The face of GSS was actually the maintenance man who was initially hired to work the night shift, never graduated high school, but looked the part.

I didn’t know if had been married, heck, I didn’t even know he had a child. I guess there was a lot about Tony I still had to learn. Perhaps if I did, I would have understood his reaction to the shooting better. But we had time. We were going to be hunkered down together for a while.

Not even five miles down the road, I caught the flashing lights of the squad car.

“Are we getting pulled over again?” Tony asked.

I believed we were until I readied to turn the wheel. The blue and red lights stopped flashing and the car behind me flashed it’s headlights, then kept up steadily. I smiled. It was that officer, and he had decided to follow us.

Skyler leaned forward. “Hey, I know you were avoiding it, but can you turn on the radio? It’s winding down and I’d like to hear what they’re saying… if anything.”

“Yeah, me too.” Jackson added. “I mean it’s the last we’ll hear for a while.”

Hating to admit it, I agreed and turned on the radio. There was nothing, and Tony took over trying to find a station.

Finally, he found something, and we caught the tail end of the DJ’s identity and station identification.

“They’re using FEMA broadcasting. A secure line that broadcasts nationally,” Tony said.

“And we’ll be here,” she said. “Until the final second. Then we’ll go below. We’ll be fine, we hope. But we are only as prepared as most of you. You know, over the last couple days, we’ve heard nothing but horror stories. People looting, fighting. That, in this DJ’s opinion, is not how I want our world remembered as we go out. That’s why I’ve been focusing on the positive for this final broadcast. Here’s some more from social media…”

Social media? People were still going on line, still grasping for some semblance of a life that will be gone. In a hundred years people wouldn’t know what social media was. How our world used it fervently. Why? I wondered. Why were they logging on instead of preparing, waiting, praying? The as the DJ read entries, I realized why.

@Cathyhoward said thank you to the man who stopped to fix our tire. God bless you. We made it here.

And there were more… ‘At’ and then names. Or just names. Messages rattled off.

‘Waiting for you, Bill. Waiting.’

‘To the woman who gave me water and food for my son. I will never forget you.’

‘Man in New Jersey, thank you for getting me to my sister’s house. I am safe because of you.’

“We have a caller on the line, go ahead.”

“Hey, my name is Amber in Wisconsin.” The young woman’s voice quivered with emotions . “I just wanted to send this out to my mom. I can’t reach her. I tried. Mommy, I pray you’re okay. I’m thinking about you. I’m safe. I am safe.”

Next caller.

“Honey… I’m not gonna make it home. I’m sorry. If you hear this, I tried to call, line was dead. I love you. Tell the kids I love them.”

Another male caller. “Hey, I just wanted to say to those out there who are helping people like me. Inviting us into your shelter when we have nowhere else to go. Thank you. It’s people like you that are gonna make this world a better place when we rise from the ashes.”

Tony reached over and gave my hand a gentle squeeze. When I glanced at him, he was looking behind him to everyone in the van.

We sat quietly listening to the broadcast as we drove into Akron. I was glad we turned on that radio, truly glad. It was sobering. We had seen so much ugliness and violence in a short span of time, people panicking, and scared and running and fighting for their lives. Now I was hearing some of the good that had occurred. The stuff the bad had overshadowed. It wasn’t hidden for long and it emerged at the best possible time. Laced with a lot of sadness, the positives of humanity were surfacing as the world said its final goodbye.

Peter Fleishmann looked nothing like the photo of him in the World Inquisitor . I expected an older man, since the photo was so old. But instead, he was a man in his forties with wiry dark hair, and he was extremely thin.

He was sitting outside of his house on a black box. Behind him were two orange gas cans and a small suitcase. He finished off a can of energy drink and stood as we came to a halt.

“Everyone just stay put, we’re gonna make this fast.” I said and opened the door. We had less than an hour to impact and ninety miles to go until we reached the shelter.

Tony and I stepped from the van. Admittedly I was excited to meet him.

“Anna,” he said. “Nice to meet you. I see we have a police escort.”

“It’s a party,” Tony said and began looking around as he helped Peter with his things.

Walking to the van, Peter asked him. “What are you looking for?”