Jacqueline Druga - Protocol One

The less we relied on our storage the better we’d be.

The biggest challenge was going to be the grains. For some odd reason, they just weren’t taking. They did well enough to feed to the chickens, but us, that was something that would have to wait until things warmed up.

We had flour and stuff in storage, but I put that on high ration.

Bread was made once a week.

We each got a half a loaf. I always sliced my super thin and made it last. I was the envy of everyone when the day before bread making rolled around. It got a little stale, but toasting it worked.

I decided to be nice and make Peter and I sandwiches for our Switch room shift. I made egg, lettuce and radish sandwiches.

While the three ingredients didn’t sound like they went together well, when your diet consists of prepared meals, soups and boxed stuff, it was a gourmet meal.

I’d hear from Tony time and again for favoring Peter. But he was nice. Really nice and other than Tony, I likened him to my best friend.

“It has texture,” Peter said as he bit into my impromptu lunch. “I like it.”

“Me, too. So… question,” I said. “What’s the surface temperature? Because I am either getting used to this cold or it feels like it’s not so cold.”

“Well it’s a balmy sixty-four in the bunker.”

“Whoa.”

“And…” Peter looked up on the computer. “Minus fifteen outside. See? See? This is what I mean. Black and cold. Makes no sense. It should still be minus forty like it was two days ago.”

“What’s Damnation Alley saying?”

“Slight warning not much to brag about.”

I grabbed the radio and Peter stopped me. “Mulligan is not working.”

“What? No. Why? He’s always working.”

“Not today.”

“Who is on?” I asked.

“Stevens.”

“Dick.”

“Yeah.”

“What’s wrong with Mulligan?”

“Apparently some sort of respiratory ailment has hit their bunker,” Peter said. “Bound to happen. We just lucked out.”

“No,” I corrected. “Craig had foresight. He quarantined out first head cold to see if he could keep it from spreading. And he did. It worked.”

“Tony was not happy about being quarantined.”

“It was funny.” Despite the fact that our morning radio buddy was not working, I grabbed the radio again and called out. “Damnation Alley, Damnation Alley, come in, this is Protocol One.”

“We read you Protocol One.”

“How’s the weather there?” I asked. “Over.”

“Dark and cold.”

“Same here. How is Mulligan? I hear he’s under the weather.”

“He is, Protocol One. We expect him to be fully functioning again in a couple days.”

“That’s good,” I said. “Are you up to playing the game?”

“I don’t play the game. Mulligan may play the game, but I don’t.”

I mouthed the word ‘dick’ to Peter, he nodded knowingly.

“Anything to report?” Damnation Alley asked.

“Negative. You?”

“With the exception of our flu bug nothing…. Hold on, Protocol One.”

There was silence.

He came back on, only this time the usually drab and business as usual Stevens sounded enthusiastic. “Protocol One, have to get back to you. You aren’t going to believe this. We just received radio contact from another camp!”

The call was ended, but I jumped up and shrieked. Although I knew the world wasn’t reduced to our bunker and Damnation Alley, it was nice to hear someone out there was alive. I embraced Peter.

“When we hear back,” I said. “We’ll let the others know. I am so glad it was us on duty to hear it first.”

“Oh, you know it. Tom would not have let us live it down.”

“Who do you think it is? Where.” I closed one eye when a flash hit it. It wasn’t a big flash, just enough to catch me off guard. I looked up trying to figure out where it came from. Then I did. The monitor flashed white again. “Something is wrong with the outdoor camera.”

“I see that. Let me adjust.”

It flashed white, then a few seconds later, it flashed once more before becoming completely white.

“Oh my God.” Peter stood up. “The sun is out!”

“The sun is out?”

“It just broke free. The sun is out.” He jumped up. “The sun is out!”

As if we were in some sort of teeny bopper episode of a television show, we locked hands, jumping up and down, screaming with delight.

I grabbed the portable radio and raced to the Switch room door. “I’ll be right back.”

“Where are you going?”

“To get a coat and see.”

“Ah, I want to see.”

“You will. I’ll be back.”

I was filled with a zest that carried in my voice as I ran full force about that bunker. I didn’t need the radio. I was like Paul Revere, but instead of screaming ‘The British are coming’ I high tailed it screaming everywhere, “The sun is out. The sun is out.”

Everyone, with the exception of Peter, and I felt bad about that, bundled up and raced for the bay doors. Even Ben and Spencer who were sleeping, heard me calling out, jumped up and had to see.

We lined up side by side at the blast doors.

I stood with Tony. We had wrapped Joie is several blankets and put on sun glasses. We covered her nose and mouth because the temperatures weren’t going to rise that fast.

On the count of three, Tony undid the latches.

It had been months. Two months since the fires died and everything went black.

Holding my breath, not just in anticipation but for fear of the cold, I watched Tony and Duke slowly open the doors.

It was blinding.

The sun crept through, then when the doors opened fully, we were blasted.

It was magnificent.

Even thought it was frigid cold, the sun was warm on our face. Dances of warmth hit me and I stepped out.

It was the dawn of a new era.

It was a sign.

We had lived through the darkness.

It was more than just the dust settling enough for the sun to power through. It was a symbolization. The dark was behind us. There could only be brighter days ahead.

October 24

Arctic coats hung in the switch room and in the bay. It wasn’t an unusual thing to step outside. We weren’t confined to below anymore because of some sort of threat. We could go out, and no matter how cold it was, someone always did. I was always stepping out.

The metal pipe we used to mark Jackson’s grave was still standing. It had warped some, but it was still there. Duke had made a beautiful cross out of wood to mark the grave, but the ground was till rock solid. We would soon, though..

Before my shift in the switch room. I took Joie outside for a few minutes. The sun had new meaning. It was absolutely beautiful. Frosty snow fell, even though there wasn’t a single cloud in the sky.

It sparkled off the sun.

A blue sky. For a couple days after the sun returned, clouds would roll in. But now it was clear. It was a matter of time before temperatures stabilized.

Peter predicted it would be a while before it warmed up.

Damnation Alley agreed with that.

Joie and I had a nice three minute walk outside. I returned her to Nelly and then I headed to the Switch room.

My shift had been shortened since the sun returned. No more need to thwart off the dreaded S.A.D. that came with no sunlight.

But I made the best of the time I had in the Switch room.

Damnation Alley reported there was a group of survivors in Kentucky. About thirty of them, and they would be traveling to the Texas bunker as soon as the weather permitted.

Mulligan was back. He coughed a lot over the radio, but at least he beat their flu.

They had eight deaths.

That was sad.