Jacqueline Druga - Protocol One

Pulling away, I looked at the dances of thin streams of smoke in the air. They signified life. I thought of that poor family and wondered how many others were scattered throughout the town, freezing and starving, with no food and nothing left to burn to stay warm.

We had enough supplies in the jeep to save one family like the one in the discount store. We could save someone of dying a cold death.

But we didn’t.

We just drove away.

Something was not right about that.

The entire short return trip, I was like a spoiled child that didn’t get what she wanted. I was quiet and snippy when spoken to. Increasingly, my irritation level rose when I realized that Duke didn’t stay behind at the Jeep to guard it. He did so to take pictures.

He continued taking them all the way back. My first defensive feelings were that we weren’t on some tour bus. But in fact we were tourists. Sightseeing the apocalypse. I felt that way. Duke explained that the pictures would give us an indication of how many people were there. Were they thin streams of smoke? The larger ones indicted bigger fires and more people.

Our arrival was greeted by almost everyone. It was as if we had been gone on a long voyage instead of just an hour or two.

We parked the Jeep just outside the blast doors, unpacked and walked in.

They all greeted us. They all wanted to know what it was like out there, what did we see?

Surprisingly, Gil wasn’t there, but I didn’t expect it to be long before he came up.

Melissa looked curiously around. “I’m shocked. I would have bet my double yolk eggs that you would have brought someone back.” She said to me.

That made me pout and stew.

Then when Craig said, “Me, too. That’s why I’m here. I expected someone to need medical help. A survivor.”

“Tony said no.” I barked out in a whining manner, without thinking how it would sound. “He said no. I wasn’t allowed. He wouldn’t let me.”

“It’s your bunker,” Melissa stated. “You can do what you want.”

“See? My thoughts exactly.”

“No.” Tony interrupted. “This bunker may be in her name, but we all live here. All of us. And this sisterhood for the betterment of nomads thing you two have happening, doesn’t wash.”

“What the hell was that?” Melissa snapped at Tony.

Internally, I cheered her on. Go, Melissa, pummel him. Someone please help me out on the Tony arguments.

“Don’t get her started,” Tony said to Melissa. “I been dealing with her on this.”

“Fine.” Melissa shot up her hand.

Fine? That was it? Oh, great.

“Tony, she has a point.” I argued. “I should be able to have a say so.”

“And we don’t? We all live here, work here. This has long surpassed the single notion of what you think is best under you ideology of a post comet world.”

“Then it should have been a group decision.”

“It should not even be up for discussion at this point.” Tony’s voice was strong.

“Whoa. Whoa. Hey, hey…” Gil interjected. “What’s going on?”

Did my face show something? Arrogance at Gil’s arrival?

“Oh, okay, I sense the arrival of a shining knight.” Tony backed up. “A dark one, but a shining knight nonetheless.”

“Tony, come on,” Gil stated. “What’s going on?”

“Tell him.” Tony said to me. “Tell him what you are mad about so you can get him on your side and hear him say,” Tony changed the sound of his voice. “‘You’re right Anna, you’re always right. Whatever you want’.”

I gasped.

Gil laughed. “Was that supposed to be an imitation of me? Because it wasn’t very good.”

“I’m working on it.”

Gil breathed out. “What’s going on, Anna?”

“We were out there. I guess scouting the area for survivors. Not to help them, like I thought, but just to see them. I wanted to help. At the very least, if we didn’t go door to door, leave the bag of supplies. Tony yelled at me…”

“I did not.” Tony defended.

“You did too. You said I couldn’t do it and was adamant that it was something we couldn’t do.”

Gil glanced at Tony, then to me. “I… hate to say this, but I’m gonna have to side with Tony on this one.”

Tony gloated with a ‘Ha, I knew there was a reason I used to like you’.

“Both of you…” I pointed. “Suck.” And then I walked out.

Okay, that was immature and not the way to end or handle the situation. I wasn’t a child and I needed to stop behaving like one. If I wanted something to go my way, under the semi democracy of the bunker, I had to present it to everyone with a why. Not stomp to my room and pout.

“Are you better?” Tony asked as he entered my room. “Or do I still suck?”

“Both.” I stood from the bed. “Look, I don’t want to fight. I don’t. So, please, other than because I said so, can you explain to me please, why we can’t help those people in town? We have plenty.”

“Yes, we do. We have plenty for our survival,” Tony said “And you know what? We have plenty to help a family, and maybe even a family after that. But where does it end? When do we draw a line at what cuts into our survival. Everything here, Anna was done to prepare us for the long run. To hold us over until we are self sufficient. We cut into that, we cut into our insurance. Did you ever hear the expression ‘don’t feed the strays’?”

“That is cold.”

“That’s the truth. We hand out, they’ll come back. If they know they can get it, they’ll not do for themselves. Then what happens when we turn them down?”

“That family, Tony. It could have been us.”

“It wasn’t. And you can’t feel guilty because you have and they don’t.”

I sniffled.

“Are you sick or are you crying?”

“Neither. I’m cold.” I walked over to the chair and grabbed the worn, but thick gray and black striped hooded sweatshirt.

“Did you know every time you wear that, Peter brags that he gave that to you?”

“He did.”

“He still brags.” He stepped to me and pulled the hood over my head, pulling the strings.

“I’m sure I look like a dork right now.”

“A cute one.” Tony held on to the draw strings. “Listen to what I am going to say. So I don’t sound cold or like a dick, or that I suck. Time has taken us past the point where we can just wave out our hand and say, ‘join us’. Time does damage and makes people desperate. Now, you can argue that it is all the more reason to help them, and I will argue that it is a mistake. We have it good. People would kill… and I stress kill to have what we have. If we just let anyone in, we chance having the same thing happen that occurred with the fire hall people. I know you feel bad. But you can’t save the world.” He walked over to my brandy and poured me a glass, handing it to me.

I thanked him and said, “Don’t you want to try? If not the world, then just a speck of it?”

“No, I don’t. I worry about you and my daughter. Your safety.”

“What about her future?”

“That too.”

“Then you don’t care if all she knows is these walls. These kids in the bunker with her. You don’t want her to experience the world out there.”

“Not if it means her safety.” Tony replied.

“But if we help people…”

“Anna…”

“Listen to me. If we help people, we can get them strong enough to rebuild this world right along with us.”

“I hear you. I do and that… is a great idea… but. It has to be executed correctly. In order to even help a speck of the world it has to be done right. There has to be a process, a standard we set. A way we handle the help. All of which would include having enough to help. That would include more hands on. We don’t have a lot of us. The more outsiders we bring in, the more chance we take of losing control of what is ours. This is ours, Anna. It is not unrealistic to believe there will be people who want to take from us, over and over. And we don’t have the manpower to fight a big takeover. If we go out there with care packages, eventually someone is gonna search out where they came from.”