Jacqueline Druga - Protocol One

Peter shrugged. “I hope not. The battery is in the Faraday box, the blanket I made is over the electrical components. The metal hood is another conductor. I didn’t see any sparks from the van. So if we follow theory it should start once we replace the battery.”

“If it doesn’t?” Tony questioned.

“If it doesn’t.” Peter exhaled and looked around at all of us. “Then we have a long walk ahead of us.”

My phone powered up and stayed on, although there wasn’t a signal, I wasn’t expecting one, that told us to try the battery.

Through all the heaviness and fear, the baby cooed and that gave us all incentive to keep going. He was doing better and when Tony heard that, he smiled.

Melissa took special interest in that baby. The bag that Tony took from the father contained baby supplies. She was the one that handled him and named him Baby John after her father. Craig said he was doing well, but he still doubted he would be able to save the arm.

It was something we’d deal with when we got to the bunker. But for the moment, we had to focus on moving ahead.

Tony put the last of the gas into the tank, as Duke replaced the battery. We organized the van because we had to squeeze twelve people in there. It would work. It had to. We had sixty miles to go. Moving at a good pace, forty five minutes tops.

Duke gave the ‘go ahead’ to start the van and we call kept our fingers crossed. The ‘dinging’ when Tony put the key in the ignition was a good sign.

I was standing outside the van waiting for the engine to turn over, when Joie said, “My ears feel funny.”

“What do you mean, sweetie?” I asked hunching down.

“They feel funny. Like they’re buzzing.”

It struck me as odd, and when I went to question her further, I felt it. A tingling and fullness in my ears. I pulled my earlobe. “Anyone else feel that?”

“Don’t’ start the car!” Peter instructed. “Wait.” He crouched down and placed his hand on the ground. “Phase three.”

I didn’t even have to ask what Phase three was. Immediately, the ground vibrated. A hum filled the air followed by a rumbling, and the ground beneath our feet began to shake.

It shook violently as the van rocked back and forth. I lifted Joie when she started to scream, while I tried to keep my balance. Melissa held tightly to the baby, stumbling. I didn’t know what to do. Everyone was trying to grab for something. I watched Nelly, calmly make her way to the side door of the van and sit. I saw what she was doing. She held onto the doorway bracing herself as the van rocked.

Holding Joie, I made my way to the van. Nelly held out her hand and I gripped it. Once I had my balance, I too, held on to the van and then turned to look for my son.

“Jackson!” I called him.

He stumbled to the ground, and desperately tried to regain his footing. I clenched Joie for dear life as well as the door to the van. My son looked so helpless, his thin body flailing back and forth as he tried as well to make it to the van.

Peter rolled on the ground, Craig reached for Skyler.

Jackson was almost to the van, almost in my reach. His hand extended as he swayed and as the ground rocked once more violently, I fell down with Joie and Jackson sailed forward.

Despite the noise of the earthquake, I heard it. I heard as his head connected with the side of the van. Jackson sprang up and then fell down.

“Jackson!”

Then it all stopped.

“Try the van,” Peter ordered.

“Is my daughter okay?” Tony called from the van. “Is Joie ok?”

Melissa answered, “She’s fine.”

And I rushed to my son at the same time as Craig.

“I’m okay, I’m okay,” Jackson sat up. “I’m…” his eyes rolled back in his head and blood poured from his temple. It was almost as if he had no control. His head wobbled back and forth.

I heard the van start.

“Let’s get him in the van,” Craig said. “I’ll check him out there.”

“I’m fine.” Jackson repeated groggily. “I’m fine.”

Skyler and Duke helped get Jackson in the van, as Peter insisted we ‘move it’. We had to move, he said, to gain as much ground as we could and as quickly as possible.

He didn’t say why, but I knew we’d find out.

We were jammed packed in that van and I didn’t want to know how fast Tony was going. We zipped across the Pennsylvania border before I realized it. We were close, very close.

Peter sat up front, asking Tony over and over if he knew the exact location of the bunker.

“I’ve been there several times over the years,” Tony said. “I could go there blindfolded.”

“Good. You may need to.”

I wanted to ask him why he said that but I was too concerned with Jackson. Craig had placed a quick bandage on his head and stated that Jackson definitely had a concussion. His eyes were blood shot and his pupils not responding properly.

Jackson was defiant. He insisted he was fine. That he just had a headache.

However, my son was talking funny, as if he were drunk. His words were slurred and times hard to understand.

“What does this mean?” I asked Craig. “Will he be okay?”

“He will be as long as he doesn’t overdo it or sustain another injury. He needs to rest.”

“I’m fine,” Jackson said.

“So we heard.” Craig retorted.

I was focused on my son, and finally looked up when I heard a sound coming from the roof of the van.

The sky had increasingly darkened and to me, it only made sense that it was rain. But the rain sounded funny, heavy and it smacked hard like hail against the van.

“What is that?” I asked.

Tony replied, “Mud. It looks like mud.”

“Watch your speed now,” Peter said. “How far out are we?”

“We have to leave the main road.” Tony replied.

“Be careful. This is ash.”

“Ash?” Tony asked. “It’s wet.”

“It is right now, but it won’t be for long. Keep a steady pace.” Peter said. “No quick turns, treat it like snow.”

Staying close to my son, I watched as we drove. Everyone grew silent, as if we were riding in a snow storm and within minutes it seemed as if we were.

The dark, black, wet ash became lighter and it came down worse than any blizzard I had ever seen. The windshield wipers did little to clear the ash and the road was barely visible.

We looked as if we were driving into a thick gray wall. It fell fast and furiously.

“I can’t see anything,” Tony said.

“Keep it steady,” Peter said.

“It’s ahead on this road,” Tony said. “About seven miles.”

The van jolted.

“Are you absolutely sure it is on this road?” Peter asked.

“Positive.”

“Push it, Tony.”

The van choked and jolted. “What the hell?” Tony asked.

“Push it as far as you can.” Then Peter turned and faced us. “Listen. The air filter is clogging; it won’t be long before this van dies. We will have to walk. There’s no doubt about it. Doctor, did you bring any face masks?”

“I did.” Craig replied.

“Enough for us all?”

“Yes.”

“Get them.”

Craig reached over Skyler for his bag.

“Woman with the baby,” Peter said. “Keep that child covered. The little one too. The ash may look big but there are tiny particles that are easily inhaled.”

“She’s heating up,” Tony announced.

Peter kept instructing. “The final thing. That ash may look harmless, but it carries a high acid content and is hot to the touch.”

I snapped my fingers. “The thermal emergency blankets. I have eight.”

“That will have to do,” Peter said. “We’ll share. We’ll walk in pairs and keep covered. It will not be easy to walk in. And when this van stops we will need to go. Hopefully, God willing, we will be able to see this place.”