Larry doesn’t like the sound of any of this, especially because they keep going deeper and further away from the world above ground and the person he wants to be with most. ‘Look, I don’t know why you keep calling me president, and I really do need to phone David.’
The general doesn’t turn around as they keep walking towards a white door surrounded by white walls, presumably painted like this to confuse the beast, should it make it this far. He suddenly stops and looks at Larry, a big grin spread across his face. ‘I don’t know any David but I do know the president when I see him, and that person is you.’
‘I can’t be the president. Where is Evans? When I left a few days ago he was in charge and doing a good job under the circumstances.’
They continue walking through the door and stop in a small enclosure with a large metal door at one end – the sort you get in a bank vault. He really doesn’t want to go in there, mainly because he worries that he will never come out or even worse, that they will be trapped in a very big corner, waiting for the enemy to find its way in. If it does get in, then all it will need to do is get past a line of three secret service agents and one old sea dog before eating up poor old Larry.
General Phillips comes closer to him, his arms held as he politely pushes Agent Flinch out of the way. ‘You mean Evans, the Secretary for Agriculture?’
He nods, finding it surprising that this man cannot easily recall every member of the cabinet, even after all he’s been through in the last few weeks. Maybe previous titles don’t matter anymore, and the only thing that does is what you do with the badge you’re given.
The general nods back, almost immediately. ‘Yes, he was a nice guy, far better than I expected when we swore him in. After they got passed all the barricades at Fort Hood and ate up President Wilson, and then managed to sneak on-board Air Force One and threw President Harris out the window, we really thought we had got President Evans secured.’ He looks around, staring at the secret service guys and then over at the big, complicated bunker door. ‘It turns out that they’re cleverer than they look and we think they’re targeting world leaders deliberately.’
‘You mean President Evans is actually dead?’ he asks, struggling to keep up. ‘But he’s still on TV, still broadcasting speeches on the emergency channel. How can he be dead if he’s doing that? I mean, I saw him just this morning.’
General Phillips smiles and nods to some people in suits next to him, who pat each other on the back whilst smiling wildly. ‘I’m glad the pre-recordings are working. I mean, if you are falling for them and you know who he is, then the average Joe hauled up at home will definitely think it’s him.’
Larry suddenly falls down, his head dripping with sweat and his body going numb. ‘Evans is really dead? He was a great guy. I knew his wife and kids.’
His three protectors are soon around him, picking him up. Agent Flinch manoeuvres around them until he is in front of Larry, offering the calming gaze of David’s blue eyes, as if he knew that’s exactly what Larry needed. ‘You’re the president now, sir, and these people need to see you as a strong leader.’
General Phillips slaps him on the back. ‘He’s right, you know. Although for now it’s probably best the people think that Evans is still in charge. I think the people liked him, and besides we can’t keep telling the nation that the president is dead and another guy has been set up in his place.’ Phillips walks forward, leading them towards the door as it starts to open. ‘But don’t take it personally,’ he shouts back.
Larry has no choice but to move forward and follow the crowd. As they reach the door he sees a woman standing at the entrance. The background is full of large screens and world maps with red dots and other flashing images all over them. He thinks that he is probably going to end up looking at all of this in a lot of detail.
This woman looks at him but doesn’t offer any sign that she notices him. He admits that in any other situation he would barely have noticed her, but in this new world he knows exactly who she is. He’s seen her before, in various cabinet meetings and war room situations. Larry thinks he was lucky that he wasn’t with any of the presidents when they got attacked, which was more due to his insignificance and total lack of military usefulness than anything else. But with her he thinks it’s a different story, because many times he has seen her whispering in the ear of different presidents and yet she was never around when the worst happened.
She doesn’t move, doesn’t offer a hand as they reach the door; she simply looks him up and down. ‘So this is the great Larry Brown, Secretary for Housing and Urban Development, and now the President of the United States of America.’
General Phillips stands next to him, a grin across his face. ‘Twelve times lucky.’
She shakes her head and turns around, walking into the room as everyone else follows. ‘This isn’t a war that’s going well. I don’t expect you to understand anything that is happening, so as far as I am concerned you are here as a figurehead. Let us make the decisions and you focus on planning for what is likely to be a bleak future for mankind, to which your cabinet role would perhaps be most suitable for.’
He continues to follow as she carries on walking to the centre of the room. When he reaches a chair in the middle he stands still, wondering if this is where he should sit. His secret service trio suddenly leave his side, taking up flanking positions around the room, in places that they likely deem to be the most effective, but he thinks really are the only places not blocking some sort of flashing screen. The large, metal door starts to swing shut slowly but powerfully, just as doors in banks do, except those ones are sealing money in and not keeping monsters out. He hears a large hissing noise which he figures is the air getting sucked out, making the seal even tighter, and the room even more like a tomb.
He looks around as he tries to make sense of this place, seeing monitors lit up everywhere with satellite images and progress updates. It’s the world map that catches his attention the most and he stares at it with complete disregard for whatever this attractive, yet utterly miserable woman is saying. The map is really big and Larry can pick out many places he and David have travelled to. He wants to point, to make others feel envious of his globe-trotting – to ask David to get the albums out whilst he puts the coffee pot on. Of course they have them on the iPad, but there’s nothing better than the feel of the genuine photo and the smell of a dusty album. He believes it’s those memories we mustn’t forget; have no time to make more.
He turns to her now and sees that she is finally giving him some attention, as is everyone else in the room. He suddenly feels all these eyes on him, the unlikely president. She doesn’t say anything, just brushes back her dark fringe, her head tilted as she examines what has been brought before her.
‘What do you think you’re doing?’ she asks.
Larry looks at her and then back to the map. ‘Japan,’ he says, his right arm outstretched as he points to the map. ‘We never got to go there.’ He looks around at everyone else, taking time to find as many eyes as he can, hoping to get some understanding from somewhere in this room. He finally settles on Agent Flinch, who smiles back and nods, the only glimmer of approval anyone in this cavern of contempt has offered him. He eventually lowers his arms and stands still. ‘We planned to go there this year but I guess that won’t be happening now.’
She suddenly lets out a scream, aimed at the general, as she throws some sort of electronic device across the floor and points at him. ‘You believe this man will have the guts to do what must be done? Do you really think we can just keep appointing morons as our commander-in-chief?’