Jacqueline Druga - Protocol One

Constant and steady.

Several landed with a vengeance in the distance far enough from us for safety, but close enough for us to see that wherever they landed, a blazing inferno erupted.

It was the start of what I could only imagine would be nothing less than hell on earth.

August 5

The storm of fire lasted only twenty minutes, but the fires that spread across the horizon had a hypnotizing effect to them with a orange glow that seemed to get bigger and brighter. The temperature rose, but wasn’t unbearable. The smell of smoke and the constant tickling in my throat caused me to retreat back inside.

That night, the first night after Jackson’s death, I barely slept. Every time I closed my eyes, I could hear the ‘clunk’ when his head bounced off the van. It caused a sickening feeling in my gut.

I thought of Jackson all night long, his whole entire life and then I cried some more.

The next day we had a memorial service for Jackson, a service with some religious overtones led by Peter. That surprised me because scientists usually aren’t religious. I coughed all through the ceremony. We then went into a few moments to remember and honor everyone we knew and possibly lost to the comet.

He prayed for their best.

What was the best? If they weren’t in a capable shelter, they were scared, hot and losing hydration.

Even those of us in a stable shelter had an uncertain future.

Everyone wanted to hang back and relax. Other than what I had learned in the car ride, I barely knew any of them. Beyond their names, they were a brick wall to me.

There was time, and that time following the service was not it.

Craig noticed I was coughing a lot and asked if he could take a look and listen.

Sure, why not.

I had some fluid building in my lungs, probably from inhaling the smoke and ash. He also said I had bronchitis. He favored an antibiotic IV and bed rest.

Personally, I thought Craig had an thing about IV’s because he was always sticking that needle into someone.

I agreed and used that as my excuse to stay in my room.

The all night coughing spasms left me unable to sleep well and it had been days since I had a good night’s sleep. Craig gave me a sedative and the third night after Jackson’s death I fell into a deep sleep. I woke up late the next morning. I could tell the time by the digital clocks on the wall along with the picture windows.

But I didn’t feel like getting out of bed.

I rolled over, not coughing nearly as much, and went back to sleep.

Craig came to see me and told me he needed me to get up and move around. I told him ‘Not yet’. Tony came in several times as well.

I told him to leave.

I didn’t sleep the entire time, but I certainly didn’t get out of bed for any reason other than to go to the bathroom.

The electric cock-a-doodle-do stirred me from a semi sleep. That was the chime of the digital clock to let everyone know it was seven am.

To me that was ridiculous and I went back to sleep. When I was awake, I thought of Jackson and it hurt, but when I slept I dreamed of him and smiled.

A tiny light tapping on my shoulder woke me up and I rolled over onto my back to see Joie.

“Daddy says to tell you, this is the day. You have to get up or he’s coming in and carrying you from bed.”

I blinked a few times, listening to her talk. I never listened to her talk. She spoke so grown up and blinked her eyes mischievously at me.

“Daddy said that?”

“Yep.”

“He made you be the messenger.”

“Yep.”

“Tell Daddy to bite me.” I rolled away onto my side again.

“Okay.”

I listened to the patter of her feet as she ran from my room and closed the door. I must have dozed off again but I woke up to a horrible pain in my left arm. I believed I was having a heart attack with the sudden sharp pain. Grabbing my arm, I hurriedly sat up only to see Tony there.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Yeah, I had this pain.” I blinked a few times to focus and tried to look at my arm. I spotted a slight pinkish color. “How did I…” I lifted my eyes to him. “Did you bite me?”

“You said to.”

I groaned and lay back down.

“Get up, Anna.” Tony said sternly. “I mean it. Let’s go.” He snapped his fingers. “I won’t take no for an answer.”

“What time is it?”

“Ten a.m. So get up, get dressed and meet me in the eating area. I’ll have coffee for you. You have fifteen minutes or I come back.” Tony walked to the door.

“For what?”

He stopped. “Excuse me?”

“You said to get up and get dressed. For what? To do what?”

“You know, Gil went to a lot of trouble to build this shelter, to make sure you survived and would survive.”

“He did it for Jackson.”

“He did it for you both. Both of you.” Tony snapped. “If it were just Jackson, he’d be in another shelter without you.”

“And alive.”

“We don’t know that. That earthquake happened everywhere. And sometimes Anna, as hard as it is to face, sometimes it is just that… our time. Get up. Let’s go. And if you want an answer to your question. You asked why? What for? To do what? How about this as a simple answer. To live.” With that being all he was going to say, Tony opened the door and walked out.

Tony was right.

I had to get up. I didn’t feel full of self pity, I just felt sad. The sadness wasn’t going away anytime soon, that was for sure. Eventually it would ease some, but I couldn’t stay in that room and wait for that to happen.

I took one of those three minutes showers and got dressed in a hurry. I didn’t want to take a chance on Tony coming back. I made my way to Hive Two where he said he’d be waiting. I didn’t see a soul on my walk there, not even Joie.

I passed through the kitchen area and could smell the coffee. The dining portion reminded me of something I would see in an assisted living or retirement home, more so than a bunker. The tables were set, but they were nice and there were plenty of them.

Tony stood staring at the wall length window slash picture.

“I’m here.” I announced.

“You know it’s gonna be a beautiful day. Look at the sky.” He pointed. “Although I can see a few clouds coming our way, but bet they pass by fast.”

“Tony…”

“This was a really good idea. I suggested a mural, but this was much better. Actually when you look at it, it gives the illusion of not being a hundred feet below ground. The only thing I can’t figure out…” He turned around, arms folded and leaned against the little table that pressed against the wall. “Why this view? What made this one so special? It’s just a field with some small mountains. Realistic and boring, so why?”

I exhaled and stared at it. “Because that was the only view we ever saw on our vacation. When we were first married we didn’t have any money and we used to take his uncle’s camper to the edge of town to Mr. Winter’s farm and park. We couldn’t afford gas to go anywhere or campground fees, and Mr. Winters was pretty cool about it. We were kids.”

“So you know the exact view.”

“Exact. Yeah. That’s the view from the edge of Mr. Winter’s property. He sent someone out there to film it.”

“Why this one though?”

“Another symbolization. Gil always saw beyond that field. Saying there was so much more out there, we just couldn’t see it. Not yet. It was a symbol that there is more beyond the horizon than just what we see.”

“Wow. He picked that? The guy had it bad for you and he was even married to Gwen at the time. And he still had it bad for you.”

“I think we just had this bond.”