Terrence swept up the gun, placed it behind the waist of his jeans, then reached down, pulled Keith by the collar, slid him over, propping him up against a car. He looked at Murph. “Finish what you were saying.”
Feeling like he was the one that was hit, Terrence walked over to his family. He dismissed his wife’s reach, not because he didn’t want her comfort, but he didn’t want her to know he was winded. He merely leaned against the hood of the car, as Murph spoke.
Murph nodded at Terrence, then spoke to the group. “Listen… I don’t know much if anything about nuclear weapons. Collectively maybe we can all put our heads together, a think tank of sorts, share information we have or learned in our life. I know the radio said to stay below and avoid going outdoors at all cost. Try to stay below at least a week. Like I said I don’t know much, but I know radiation kills. We have to get as far from it as possible. Because of Mr. Hoffman and Associates, there are now…” Murph looked around. “Fifteen of us left. Our best bet is to move one level down. What we need to do is work together.”
“It’s not as dark up here,” a woman said. “That’s daylight, fires, whatever. If we can see that, we are exposed.”
Murph nodded. “I know. It’s dark below. We need to move some cars. Coast them down, use them for light, maybe even a barrier to protect us from people coming in wanting what we have.”
“I have nothing,” another person said. “I was trying to get out. I have my purse and my son.”
“That’s okay,” Murph said. “There are at least a dozen cars. We scavenge them. Take the seats, find anything we can in them. Put it together. Whatever we have.” He turned and walked over to a woman, nodded at her and lifted a small duffle. He returned to his spot and dropped the bag. “When Kathy and I left, we shoved everything we could into bags. This was the only thing we grabbed from my car when we ran down here. There’s food in here. We’ll share it. Make it work. All I am asking is everyone puts what they have in one pile, then we can ration. A little for all is better than none for some.”
“I have stuff,” Keith grumbled. “I’m not sharing with you people.”
“That’s fine,” Murph said.
Another man called out. “I drove into the garage before the bomb hit. I have stuff I took from my house. I’ll share.”
“Thank you.” Murph nodded.
Was it selfish? Terrence really did have a lot of supplies. Maybe not as much water as he’d like, but as far as food went, he had more than anyone else. He didn’t want to say anything. He felt the stares of Macy, but he remained staunch, arms folded against his body. Perhaps he would hide what he had, that way his family would have enough.
He truly felt that way, but it was brief and his mind instantly changed when Mylena stepped from the family huddle and walked up to Murph.
The ten year old girl looked so innocent with her hair in braids and still wearing her pink barrettes. She reached into her pocket, “I’ll share. It isn’t a lot, but I’ll share.” Mylena reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out a half of bag of chocolates.
Terrence’s heart sunk, especially when Murph rolled her fingers around the candy and said, “You keep that.”
Murph stood up straight. “First thing first, let’s get the kids down below then anyone who can help, we’ll start hitting the cars, maybe getting them down…”
“Murph,” Terrence called out, then waved Murph over.
“What’s up?” Murph walked over.
Terrence pulled the keys from his pocket and unlocked the trunk. “If we ration just right…” he opened the trunk. “We may be good until we find help, or it’s safe to go up.”
Murph looked inside, staring at the water, the large cans of food and boxes of dry goods. “Oh my God.”
Terrence shut the trunk. “We need to get everyone below, then work on what we all have.”
“Thank you.”
Terrence wanted to say, ‘No, thank you,’ but he refrained. The number one priority was to get his family below. If indeed what the one woman said about light being exposure, then Terrence and his family had already been exposed long enough.
Everyone in the garage had been.
Hopefully the plan to get to safer ground wasn’t too little, too late.
SEVENTEEN – Not Evil
Deana Rolland needed a break. It wouldn’t be long, it couldn’t, but she would take a breather. She hadn’t stopped at all. Physically she had to take a moment, mentally she hated to do so. When she stopped… she thought.
The world was falling apart and in the brief moments of a break, her heart was heavy and she just wanted to cry.
Why were the last words she spoke to her sister via text so angry and hurtful about their brother, Mark? A stream of irrational text messages that went unanswered. She hoped, she truly hoped that Kit shut off her phone and never read them.
Her words were harsh, hateful.
She absolutely regretted them.
Deana realized that no amount of family drama was ever worth the family coming apart at the seams. Mark’s behavior was quintessential, Mark. Did she really think that fighting with Mark, calling him names would make him change?
She should have been more understanding.
After her unanswered messages to her sister, she tried to go to sleep. It was nearly impossible. Fighting with her siblings, the same ones she would have to face the next day. Mentally preparing for her father’s funeral.
She was angry at her stepmother for cremating the body before any of them saw him.
There was a slew of things on her mind. All of which paled in comparison to the events that would unfold.
Not two hours after the texts, and a few minutes after she dozed off, Deana was awoken by a continuous knock on her door.
It was the middle of the night and something had to be wrong.
Surprising her, the Secret Service was at her door. She was told to grab a bag and come with them. They explained she was being evacuated.
Deana was smart enough to know what that meant, she had listened to her father every time he talked about it. She knew something was up when he gave her that book.
She asked, “How much time do we have?”
They were reluctant to give her an answer, probably because they didn’t have one. Then after arguing, one agent told her, they were only told they needed to have her in a safe place within four hours.
Four hours.
Deana thanked them, grabbed a bag, packed it with a few items that she would need and wanted to save, and then… she declined.
Deana didn’t go.
Instead, she got in her car and headed to Mercy Hospital in Alexandria where she was Executive Director of Nursing. A position she had only held for six months. Prior to that she worked in Washington D.C., running an emergency clinic.
She was no stranger to hard work. While going to nursing school she worked as a CNA at a nursing home, then she continued her education from RN to Nurse practitioner.
Instead of saving her own life, Deana opted to save as many others as she could.
How could she, with a clear conscious, leave the city without trying to do something?
She had three hours to put in place some sort of emergency plan.
On the way there, she called the director. He didn’t dismiss what she was saying. Then again, he never showed up at the hospital like he said. Deana guessed he took the advance notice and ran to the hills with his family.
That was okay, she took charge.
She called in as many staff as she could, telling them the hospital was on high alert. Between those calls, she requested information from her phone. “Find me effects of radiation. Find me information on fall out.”