Jacqueline Druga - Protocol One

“Come on, come on, please. Not much further.” Tony begged the van, as if it would make a difference.

Our vehicle sputtered and jolted and coughed like a sick animal.

Calmly, Craig passed out the masks and I knew there was nothing I could do about the blankets until we stopped.

“Mom,” Jackson looked at me. “I’m not feeling so good.”

“We’re almost there.” I told him.

Tony let out a victorious laugh. “Yes. The drug store. Finally I saw something. The turn is right ahead. As soon as we turn we’re…”

The van stopped.

“No.” Tony beat his hand against the steering wheel. “No.”

The insulation of the falling ash caused a deadened silence in the van similar to any blizzard or snow storm.

It looked like snow, but I knew it wasn’t.

A new world emerged outside the van. Ash piled up quickly, and while we placed on our face masks, we charted a plan.

Tony told us we were close. We had made it to the road and the bunker was less than three miles up the road. Three miles. It didn’t seem like much, but without any visibility, it could have been a hundred miles.

Would we even see the road?

Before leaving the van, the masks were on our faces and I was able to get blankets to everyone.

Spencer Price toted Melissa’s things, wrapped the blanket around her and Nelly and they paired off.

I opted to leave our rations and water. It was too heavy to carry. Without it, we had only two small bags.

We weren’t out of the van a minute when Jackson threw up.

“You okay? Can you do this?” I asked him.

Jackson nodded.

Melissa carried that baby, she covered herself in a blanket, as did Peter.

Craig and Skyler carried their items, while sharing a blanket.

Like me and Jackson, Tony didn’t have much. His bag was tossed over his shoulder and he carried Joie, while leading the way.

The shiny blankets were barely visible through the fast falling ash, and I focused on Tony.

We moved slowly, especially those of us who shared a blanket. The temperature rose and not only could I feel the heat on my back, the tiny particles that hit against my exposed hand burned.

Jackson was dragging. I could feel that we had started up a slope, and getting traction wasn’t easy. My feet slipped and the soles of my shoes were hot.

A few minutes into the journey, Jackson vomited again.

We were slow, and far behind. We couldn’t keep up.

It grew increasingly difficult to see. The ash kept resting on my eye lashes but I feared rubbing them.

Every part of me tingled with a burning sensation.

Jackson slowed down even more, his balance was off. Twice, while trying to guide him, I fell knees first and Jackson stumbled with me.

I wanted to cry out for someone to help, but everyone was ahead of us. Too far to hear my call.

Then Jackson stopped.

“We have to keep moving. We have to.” I told him.

“Mom, I can’t. I…” His eyes rolled back and then Jackson fell face forward to the ash.

The weight of his body carried me with him and I went down too. The ash bellowed upward in a cloud.

“Jackson!” I screamed.

I rolled him over. Was he breathing? My son, my poor son. “Oh God. Get up!” I placed my hands to his cheeks. “Get up. Please get up.” I shook his face.

Jackson didn’t respond.

“Jackson!”

I was done. How far behind had we fallen? I wanted to cry.

I lifted my head in one final attempt to call out when I saw Tony headed our way. In fact, everyone had stopped.

They stopped for us and walked back.

“Keep going!” Tony told them. “Head up the hill.”

Tony’s face peeked through the blanket and he reached down to Jackson.

“He’s not responding,” I whimpered “What do we do?”

Tony took off his blanket and handed Joie over to me. “Keep her covered.” he said. “Get her up that hill. You’ll see it. You’ll see the fence.”

“What….”

His dark eyes stared intently into mine. “You carry my child, I’ll carry yours.”

“But…”

“Go.” He instructed.

Joie’s arms latched tightly around my neck and her legs gripped around my waist. I told her to hold on, while I adjusted my bags and wrapped the blanket around us.

“Go,” Tony said, then he covered Jackson completely with the blanket, bent down and lifted my son.

I tried to get a footing, to move, but I kept looking back.

Jackson was not a small person. He was tall and lanky. Tony didn’t hoist him over his shoulder because of the head injury. Instead, as hard as it was to move in the ash, as heavy as Jackson was, Tony exposed and unprotected from the burning elements, trudged onward without a flinch with my son in his arms.

Lillyville Bunker

I don’t know how long it took to walk up that hill. It seemed to take forever. I had to put Joie down a couple times to take a break and then continue on.

No one spoke, everyone stayed focused. Especially Melissa. She led the pack, baby in arms, bound and determined to get there with that child.

As far as my child, I kept looking back. Each time, hoping that I would see Jackson walking. But he wasn’t, he was still in Tony’s arms. Tony, like me, had to stop. I’d watch him pause, bend down to one knee, take a breather and hoist Jackson once more to continue trudging on.

The mask was too big for Joie’s tiny face and it kept slipping. She started to cough and I cradled her head between my head and shoulder.

“Shallow breaths,” I told her. “We have to be close.”

Even I, with that mask over my mouth started to feel it. A tickle in my throat and sluggish breathing. I could only imagine how easily a small child would get ill.

It was gray, completely gray. The ash fell steadily and sweat ran down my face due to the increasing temperature. The sweat mixed with the ash, causing a soot. My legs grew heavy and sore. The ash had accumulated up to my ankles.

Then I spotted Melissa. She took off, in fact, she started to sprint. I knew that could only mean one thing. She saw it.

I gasped out emotionally, hugged Joie and told her. “We’re here. We have to be here.”

And finally, I caught a glimpse of it, or rather the fence. It was the type of fence used for high security, and that invigorated me to keep going. My legs hurt, breathing was tough, a burning hit my gut from carrying the weight of Joie and my bag. Yet suddenly I had the energy. The fence drew more and more into my line of sight.

I couldn’t see anything beyond that fence. It looked barren, deserted and dark. Like a dismal winter day.

Melissa neared the fence and when she did, two armed guards raced over. They were covered completely, face and all, in some sort of military hazmat suits. They fiddled with the fence for a second and then they opened it.

Melissa pointed back and then one of the guards disappeared quickly with her.

The thick, high fence which reminded me of a cage, extended far and wide. It surrounded the circumference of the property.

Once I drew close enough, I was able to see more. It looked like an empty field. I wasn’t even sure there was any grass. Not that it mattered.

There were maybe four or five trees scattered around. Where did the others go?

I was one of the last to get to the gate. Everything came into view.

A good hundred feet away was a small beat up shack but that wasn’t where the others were headed. Beyond that, far beyond that, even with the ash in my eyes, I saw the unmistakable entrance to the bunker.

There was no hiding it. Not like it needed a sign. Just a small grade or hill of dirt and the thick concrete triangle entrance way that wasn’t very deep. The doors were wide enough for a vehicle to drive through. They were open and all I saw was black. No lights.