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That was a mistake.

At first we didn’t think so. The road was eerily free and clear, and then we were pulled over.

“I knew it,” I told Tony. “You can’t continuously go eighty in a fifty zone without a cop getting you.”

“That’s not the cops.”

Before I could ask who it was, a soldier approached Tony’s window.

“Evening sir,” the soldier said politely, peering in the window. “I’m gonna have to ask you folks to pull over or you can head into the elementary school a mile up the road to park for the night. ”

“We’re just heading north to get a friend.”

“I understand, but there is no northern travel during the curfew. We’re trying to keep all roads clear for evacuation. North is not is an evacuation area.”

“What if we stay on the road and ignore the curfew?”

“Then you know we’d have to detain you. That’s a little more complicated than if you just complied.”

“I was just curious,” Tony said.

“That’s what I thought,” The soldier replied. Since you do have young ones, can I suggest the elementary school? We have a set up there. It would be a lot safer.”

“We’ll do that.”

“Sir, if you get spotted on the road again, we won’t be so easy.”

“I understand that.”

“Good luck. God speed.”

The soldier knocked on the hood and we moved forward.

Good luck and God Speed. Never did those words have more meaning than they did at that moment.

We needed all the luck we could get. And God Speed, well, we could only hope.

We arrived at the elementary school and parked at the far end of the lot. I started to believe that Tony had some sort of aversion to bathrooms because we were as far away from the portable johns as we could get. It was his way to get out at first light when the curfew was lifted.

We didn’t have camping supplies or folding chairs. And it was a good thing it was a cooler night, because we could stay in the van.

There were a lot of cars in the school parking lot. I wondered where they were going. A lot of families. Not a lot of noise or problems. I didn’t think there would be, after all it was a make shift military outpost.

Just as I was prepared to break out my rations, I realized the military was giving out MRE’s and a bottle of water to everyone. Melissa walked over with me to grab some and help me carry them.

When we returned from the long trot across the lot, the van door was open. Nelly sat there smoking a cigarette with her legs dangling from the side of the van and a few feet away, a distance from everyone else, Tony made a seat out of Melissa’s large metal case which I learned contained seeds and nutrients packs.

She took the kids their food while I carried Tony’s and my meal and walked over to him.

“Hey,” I said.

“Hey,” Tony lifted his eyes from his phone.

“MRE?” I held out a package.

“I was kind of hoping for your homemade rations.”

“They’re in the van. Want me to get them?”

“Nah, I will.” Tony scooted over. “Have a seat.”

I sat down next to him. “Not a fan of MREs?”

“You could say I had my fill between my service to our country and my latest career.”

“You okay?”

“Yeah, yeah.” He looked down at the phone. “It’s just that we lost more hours. We are now cutting it close and if we have to stop for the night tomorrow, we aren’t making it to the shelter before the comet hits.”

“I know. How long until we get there?”

If the gas holds out. If we don’t have to walk. If the EMP doesn’t destroy the van. Two hours post impact, at the latest. My guys are getting things ready. They’ll be ready for us.”

“Two hours isn’t bad. We should still be all right. Remember it has to make it to us. If blast winds are five hundred miles an hour, we have five hours till they hit, that sort of thing.”

“You learned a lot didn’t you?”

“I’m an armchair comet expert. But I really can’t wait to meet the real expert.”

Tony forced a quick smile, and with a change of subject handed me the phone. “Apparently our good doctor had the sense to leave. They were detaining all medical professionals and putting them in underground shelters.”

“He got out.” I looked at the message. “And made distance. Make sure you let Melissa know so she can find a good route.”

He groaned at me and I handed the phone back to him. “We’ll get there, that’s all that matters. Can you I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“Have you heard from Gil?”

Tony shook his head. “No. I’m sorry.”

“He’s fine right? You think he’s fine?’

“He’s fine.”

“I hope.” Breathing out, I lifted my head while rubbing my hands and when I did, I saw the sky. It was absolutely beautiful. Not a cloud in the sky and I swore I could see every single star. “Oh my.”

“What?”

“Look how harmless the sky looks.”

Tony peered up. “And beautiful.”

“Capture it, Tony. Capture it in your mind. Really look at it,” I said. “Because this is probably one of the last chances you will get to see it for a very long time.”

A sad truth, Tony knew it and like me, he stared at the sky for a long time.

14 – THE GOOD DOCTOR

July 31

Rantoul, Illinois

To Tony’s dismay, they didn’t sound the ‘all clear to leave’ until just about seven a.m. To further complicate it, absolutely no traffic was permitted to go north. All northbound roads were being used as southbound only.

Making matters worse, Dr. Craig Milton was north.

The predicted after effects of the comet’s impact warranted that the northern states be deemed uninhabitable in the months post impact. All residents who weren’t able to make it out of those states before impact were encouraged to head south as soon as possible.

Evacuation cities were Atlanta, Nashville, Greenville and a few other southern cities.

Truth was, it didn’t matter.

It was going to take some deep underground shelters and long term supplies to survive in the wake of the comet.

The latest news bulletin encouraged all that weren’t in shelters by five a.m., the next morning, to get off the roads and dig in.

I knew from my research, we were pretty safe for a few hours after the comet struck. But that would be short lived and not long after, nowhere on earth would be safe.

What a tangled mess we weaved in our route to get Craig Milton.

We went east, the south, then back roads north. We didn’t hit much traffic, but I wondered what was worse. Moving or sitting still. We had one canister left of gas and hoped that Craig had his supply.

The four hour trip turned into seven, and just before we hit our destination, the gas gauge moved to ‘E’. Tony thought it best to stop and fill up when he spotted a gas station. Before doing so, he pulled aside and grabbed the single gas can from the top of the van and placed it inside just in case the gas station had restrictions.

There was a police car there and we could only guess that they were monitoring the lines.

To my surprise, it wasn’t chaotic. I really expected it to be.

Everyone in the van was doing well. Jackson played his acoustic guitar, pretty much only picking it.

Joie took a liking to Nelly, immediately finding a grandmother-like comfort in her.

Melissa read. She stated everything she read would be useful in the future and she did bring books, although not many.

Books.

That was something I forgot to bring.

Peter Fleishmann was a celebrity in my mind, and a man of few words on the phone and via text messaging. He said he’d wait. His house was away from any metropolis so we’d be good when we got there. We just had to get there. Tony said, Lillyville was only a little over an hour from there.