“Hold on!” Mike yelled.
Tom opened his eyes, briefly. The ground was rushing up to them far too quickly. He closed his eyes again and held on tight.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Claire
CLAIRE slept poorly the second night after the news broke. There had been no more messages from Tom after they’d taken off the second time. She kept telling herself that there was a reasonable explanation, like they’d landed somewhere with no service or landlines, and that they hadn’t gone down in a fiery crash over the Rockies, but her dreams had been filled with doubt and fear. She’d been running and searching, but she could never find him.
She gave up attempting to sleep just before 6:00 a.m.
Claire eventually had to limit herself to checking the news online only once an hour. The hope that there might be some new, positive development about the asteroid, and the fear that there would be news about a light plane crash were all too alluring. She’d obsessively refreshed the major and not-so-major news sites in succession, one after another, for two hours. Her pot of tea cooled beside her, forgotten. Social media was strangely quiet. All of the posts about food, babies, and great nights out that usually flooded her feeds had stopped. Only Tristan’s cries pulled her out of the spiral.
Later in the morning, when Claire checked the news before making the boys’ lunch, news articles about a possible refuge from the asteroid lit up the news sphere. Curious, she clicked on one.
The government of the United States of America is expected to announce that it will be holding a lottery for qualified citizens to win a place in what they are dubbing ‘Sanctuary’.
According to a source close to the project, Sanctuary is a series of underground bunkers in undisclosed locations that the government has developed and maintained in the hope of surviving an impact event, such as the predicted upcoming collision between Earth and the asteroid commonly known as Cecelia.
“We’ve had them for a while,” the source who wished to remain anonymous stated. “Most of the bunkers have been there for years, it’s only in the past few months that operations have ramped up to get them habitable and sustainable.” The Sanctuary is reportedly deep underground, and is speculated to have initially been built during the Cold War in the anticipation of nuclear attack.
“If the impact zone is not in North America, then the Sanctuary could theoretically keep a large population alive for a number of years until the surface is habitable again,” Professor Graham Potter of the University of Westfield stated.
There are reportedly one million places available in Sanctuary. To qualify for an entry in the lottery, according to the source, you must be an American citizen between the ages of eighteen and forty-five. There will be some spaces open to highly specialised citizens over fifty years of age, however the majority of the winners are aimed to be of reproductive age. Dependants aged seventeen years and under of lottery winners will also reportedly be allowed in.
There will be two categories of entries. Six hundred thousand places will be reserved for people with identified desired skills, qualifications and/or occupations. A comprehensive list will be released with the official announcement, but presumably will include occupations and skills that will be useful in rebuilding American society such as healthcare professionals, tradesmen, farmers, engineers, and other knowledgeable people.
The remaining four hundred thousand places will be open to anyone who fits the initial age and citizenship requirements, but does not necessarily meet the skill requirements.
The source reports that citizens with a criminal record will be ineligible for the lottery. Permanent and temporary residents will also be excluded. Americans currently overseas may enter, as long as they get back to American soil before the lottery closes.
What effect would news of the lottery and the existence of Sanctuary have on the American population? It could give them hope, for a little while at least. As long as they were in the target age range. And then what? Despair when they didn’t get in? A million places sounded like a lot at first, but that didn’t even cover the population of some of the smaller cities. Still, a one in three hundred chance was far better odds than the normal lottery. Did the Canadian government have any similar top secret bunkers that they would open to the public? She’d just have to wait and see. She doubted the Australian government had anything like that, but would be happy to be surprised. How many people would have old bunkers, like her parents did, in their backyards? And would they be deep enough when it came to it? A lot of North American homes had basements, or semi-basements. Would that be deep enough? Claire groaned and put her head down on her keyboard. Too many unknowns. But she could feel the despair edging away, and hope blossoming in its place. The spark that her father had started was growing. It was one thing for her dad and crazy old man Schmidt to think they might survive, but it was something else all together for the American Government to think so as well.
Lisa and Molly came over about an hour after the news of Sanctuary broke. Claire was close to her sister-in-law; they’d always gotten along well, and for that she was grateful. One of her old mates from back in Australia hated his brother-in-law. But as close as they were, they didn’t usually see each other quite this often.
“What do you make of this whole American Sanctuary lottery thing?” Claire asked Lisa after she settled Noah and Tristan in the living room with Molly, and poured them both a fresh cup of herbal tea, along with a plate of crackers and one of the nice camemberts she’d picked up the other day. She figured she’d start rationing the cheeses after they left the city and it was evident they couldn’t get any more.
Lisa shrugged and blew on the hot liquid. “What difference does it make for us? It’s not like we can go and enter, not unless you’ve been hiding a third citizenship behind your back.”
Claire shook her head. “I haven’t heard anything about the Canadians having anything similar, have you?”
It was Lisa’s turn to shake her head. “We’re on our own for now.”
“It’s curious though.” Claire paused, knife over the cheese.
“What do you mean?” Lisa prodded.
“It must mean they — and they actually have experts around, not just an old ex-science teacher who probably smoked a bit too much dope over the years — they think that there will be something left afterward that’s worth sticking around for.
Lisa reached out to take the cheese knife off Claire. “Hmm. Maybe. Or maybe it’s just typical human instinct to try to survive, odds be damned.”
“Perhaps,” Claire conceded. “I wonder how big the bunkers are?”
“Pretty big, I imagine. Deeper that anything we can scrounge up at Uncle Jim’s, or your dad’s got in his backyard.” Lisa cut a generous hunk of camembert and spread it on her cracker.
“Can you imagine being stuck underground with a million people for… how long? There isn’t any consensus on how long the surface is going to be uninhabitable,” Claire said, frustration creeping into her voice. She glared at the fridge, as if it could answer her questions. Most of the scenarios that Claire had been able to find dealt with much smaller asteroids than the one that was currently on its way and had been written before the news of Cecilia broke. The newer entries were all over the place. One year. Ten years. One hundred years. What was it?