Sealed In

by Druga, Jacqueline

  The sign up station was on the outskirts of Alexandria in a ballpark parking lot. Del was recognized by one of the soldiers and able to get a ride. He told the solider they needed to go west.

  The soldier found them transportation. They could ride with the truck, but it didn’t leave until morning. They’d get out west, but it would take a while.

  That was fine with them.

  Andy and Del didn’t stray from where they’d catch their ride. They had enough supplies. To Andy, it didn’t matter how long it would take; he was below ground for over five months and away from Lincoln, so what was a few more days?

  Chapter Seventeen

  May 30th

  Lincoln, Montana

  “There’s nothing out there. It’s Babylon. Everyone left,” a soldier told them. “It’s barren.”

  “It’s home,” Del simply responded.

  It was a roundabout way and took a lot of explaining, but finally, they made it to Montana from one Sustainability Project hub to the next, Louisville, Cincinnati, Chicago, and Twin Falls. From there they finally got a truck.

  But everyone was right.

  The last sign of life they saw was in a little town called Bookings, South Dakota. The empty Holiday Inn even had on their marquee, last stop for civilization.

  Not a soul. Not a car. Every town they drove through was empty. Just as they crossed out of Garfield County in Phillips, the road ended … literally.

  Dirt and dust covered the highway. There were some trees, but not many.

  There was no point of direction, nothing. They moved on a hope and a prayer; Andy prayed the entire way.

  It wasn’t what he expected.

  He followed the news. The small nuclear warhead was airburst over Hartworth.

  They were forty miles from Hartworth. Were they wrong? Did the news mislead? Was the bomb bigger, or were there more than one?

  “This looks worse than the pictures of Hiroshima,” Del commented. “You aren’t finding that box, Andy.”

  “I have to try.”

  Del exhaled with a nod.

  Driving was tedious, like a video game. Some of the road lifted, some was just gone, but the sign that read ‘Lincoln, Montana’, was a godsend. It was bent and dirty, but still half in the ground, and Andy knew he was home.

  He knew right where he was even though there weren’t any other visual markers. He had lived in that area his entire life; he was certain that he could find the Burton property.

  Skeletons of horses were scattered about, and an RV lay on its side, dented and dirty. It looked as if it had been thrown.

  Andy spotted the hill of Stew’s property, the one where his house used to sit, and he turned right, even though the road was gone.

  Del kept asking, “Are you sure this is right? Nothing is here.”

  “It’s right,” Andy said. “I feel it.”

  Then they saw the remains of Stew’s fence. The tall brick walls that were pillars for the metal gate were still standing as well as the gate. It was open, though.

  They arrived on the property.

  Typically, Stew’s house could be seen on top of the hill, as well as the large barn, but they were gone.

  Rubble was strewn across the property, couches, furniture, and clothes tossed about, covered with dirt.

  Andy made a turn; it was the road built to Emma’s house. He could make out a portion of it, counted in his mind, and estimated where the driveway was.

  But he couldn’t go very far.

  Wood and bricks were everywhere.

  Emma’s house, her barn, were nothing but matchsticks as if the hand of God had crushed the buildings and tossed out the remains, sprinkling them across the land.

  Andy put the truck in park and stepped out. The ache in his body seeped through as he groaned when he closed the door.

  Del watched for a moment. Andy was on a mission. He walked a few steps, backed up, turned, and walked again. What was he doing?

  He repeated his actions over and over, and then Del had enough. He got out of the truck. “Andy,” he called. “Come on, guy. This is useless.”

  Andy spun to face Del. “It is not useless. I’m not giving up. Not yet.”

  Del tossed out his hands. “What can I do?”

  “Look.”

  “For?”

  “Anything that points to the direction of the house,” Andy said.

  The search would be defeating and Del knew it. He shook his head, but when he did, he saw it. “Like that step?”

  Andy stopped.

  The step was twenty feet west of where Andy looked.

  He rushed to it. “Yes. Yes, Del.” Andy removed planks of wood. “These are the steps to the porch.” Andy walked up.

  Del watched as Andy stepped over the rubble, reached out his hand, and pretended to open a door. “You look insane, you know that, right?”

  “I’m in the living room.” Andy said and turned. “Headed to the kitchen now.”

  “He’s in the living room.”

  “Del! Come on. I need your help.”

  “Why not?” Thinking that Andy had lost it, but what else was there to do, they had come all this way, Del walked through the rubble to join Andy.

  Andy moved frantically, tossing planks of wood, stomping his boot, then lifting some more. “It’s here.”

  “The box?”

  “The basement. Listen.” Andy tromped. “Hollow. This wood is blocking it.”

  “The box is in the basement?” Del asked.

  “Sort of.” Andy moved more determinedly, tossing the wood as if it weighed nothing, ignoring the cuts that formed on his hands. Finally, he broke through. After lifting a piece of linoleum, he exposed a small hole. He pulled forth his backpack, lifted a flashlight, and aimed it in the hole. “That’s it.”

  “You found the basement?” Del asked with a smile.

  “Yep. Go to the truck. Get that rope they gave us. Move the truck this way and secure the rope to the bumper in case I get stuck.”

  Del nodded and took off.

  Andy cleared more of the debris, exposing even more of the hole. The more he pulled, the more he saw he had indeed found the basement steps.

  He heard the truck approach, then Andy stood. “I got the steps. Looks like the basement is intact.”

  “Do you need the rope?” Del asked.

  “Bring it just in case.” Andy took the first step. He felt to make sure the staircase was secure, and then he hurried down.

  It was there, right there, he saw it across the basement. The white shelf. That part of the basement was so far underground it was protected and intact. However, the shelf was blocked by debris. Just as Andy made it to the shelf, Del entered the basement.

  “What are you doing?” Del asked.

  Andy started tossing bricks, boards, and other things out of the way from the shelf. “Getting to the door. Help me.”

  Del joined him.

  “There’s not a lot,” Andy said. “Just push it until the shelf is fully exposed and can move it.” His hands worked as he spoke. He paused occasionally and tried the shelf. If it didn’t move, Andy kept working.

  “I have to say, Andy, this is a hell of a lot of work just for a box.”

  Emotionally, winded, Andy looked over his shoulder to Del. “It’s more than a box. Much more than a box.”

  As he worked at freeing the door, Andy thought back.

  That last phone call. The one from his Uncle Larry. It wasn’t to say goodbye, like Andy told everyone.

  “Got an RV full of people, they said you know about them. They aren’t sick, Andy. None of them,” Larry said. “What do you think we should do?”

  “Tell them to drive to the Burton property,” Andy told his uncle.

  The shelf freed, and Andy moved it, exposing the metal door.

  “Is that … is that The Hole?” Del asked.

  Andy nodded and reached for the still-lit keypad. He punched in the code.

  “Andy, I can’t,” Emma told him.
“I can’t. It’s been fine in theory. But for real? I can’t.”

  He told her she had to, it was the only way; it had to be done. It was the smart thing to do when civilization would fall apart from stupidity.

  The metal door opened.

  “Jesus,” Del whispered. “She really went all out.”

  Andy said nothing; he turned on his flashlight, started to race down the twenty-foot hall and, halfway there, he stopped. He froze. His heart broke, and Andy couldn’t move. He physically couldn’t do anything but drop to the floor.

  The box.

  The ‘history of Emma’ box that Emma had made sat in the hallway.

  “You found the box,” Del said. “Oh my God.”

  Andy shook his head.

  “What’s wrong?”

  ‘Andy, if I don’t make it, if I get sick, I don’t want you finding me,” Emma had told him. “I’ll leave the box in the hall. That is my sign that we didn’t make it.”

  “Andy?” Del questioned.

  Andy took a moment, and then he stood. Slowly and emotionally, he stood with that box in his arms. He held his tears, sniffed once, and turned.

  Shift.

  The sound of a shotgun being pumped caused him to stop.

  “Who’s there?” the husky male voice called out.

  Andy slowly turned around.

  “Good God in Heaven, Andy Jenkins, that you?”

  Del’s flashlight beam lit the man’s face. “Mr. Bailey? Holy shit.”

  Andy dropped the box and raced forward. “Tell me …”

  A scream.

  A loud, long scream came from the other end of the hall, and out of the darkness raced Emma. Cody in her arms, she ran full speed ahead and slammed right into Andy. Her free arm wrapped around his neck.

  Her scream turned into an emotional cry that was deep and heartfelt. “I thought you were dead.”

  “Oh, God.” Andy held her tight, stepped back, and looked at her. “The box. It’s in the hall.”

  Emma shook her head. “When we heard the bombs, we thought …” Another shake of her head. “We were trapped, Andy. We thought we were gonna die down here or be here forever.”

  “Your girl,” Mr. Bailey waved a finger. “Her and her planning. It saved the rest of us.”

  Andy rested his hand on her face, kissed her and then Cody. “She got big.” Andy’s eyes lifted. Everyone from the shelter gathered in that hall, led by Richie.

  Richie grinned and ran to him.

  Andy reached out pulling him into him.

  Del cleared his throat. “Um, hello. I’m here, too.” He reached out and grabbed hold of Cody. “And I am not letting you out of my sight, little one.” Then Del did something else; he signed to Richie. “I’m not letting you out of my sight, either. Get used to it.” He embraced his son.

  Richie laughed and replied. “You learned to sign?”

  Del pointed to Andy. “We’ve been together.”

  Emma asked. “This whole time?”

  Andy nodded. “CDC had us in lockdown while things went bad. They cured my stutter for a spell. We have time to talk about that.”

  Bailey interjected. “We were able to get a radio signal about two weeks after the bombs were dropped. We lost that a couple weeks ago, thought everyone in the world died.”

  Del stated. “Not really. But most did. It’s a different world up there.”

  Emma inched to Andy. “How is it up there, Andy? Really?”

  “Better now.” As best as he could, Andy brought Emma and Cody close to him. He closed his eyes tight and inhaled a warm gratefulness. “Much better now.”

  Time Stamp – Final

  Andy’s Journal

  September 2nd

  I know I had said I wasn’t going to write another entry, but I felt the need to add closure to it all.

  There were eleven people in The Hole. All of them in good health, good spirits, and their weight was good. Not only did Emma have a ridiculous amount of stock, her hydroponics were unbelievable. Canning and preserving what she grew passed a lot of the time.

  The last I spoke to Emma, I had called from her father’s house and told her she needed to go into The Hole. It had its own safe air system that filtered for a month. But she was so far out that I didn’t think she needed to do that, or she and I would have been infected already.

  She didn’t have a heads up on Richie’s arrival. I knew the inner door would be sealed, but apparently, Emma just let them in. She didn’t make them wait it out. According to her, it didn’t matter. She took a gamble and it paid off. Incidentally, Del’s lady friend and her son never made it to Bailey’s RV.

  But after the bombs were dropped, debris trapped them down there. They were able to retract the outer air pump and use the in-house ventilation. After a radiation readout showed that the air was safe, the design allowed them to drill the pipe upward. The hatch in the barn was completely covered and so was the other exit. The only way out was to redesign my ventilation drill and constantly drill a way out.

  Bailey was making some progress when we arrived. They had to be careful, because they used up all the in-house ventilation.

  After everyone was out, me, Mr. Bailey, and another man headed into Miles City. It was the nearest town that wasn’t hit. We were able to jump start two vehicles. We lucked out, and the reserve tank at the local station was untouched. We filled as much as we could and headed back to Emma’s and packed up.

  We packed up everything including fresh produce, canned products, and the remaining stock in The Hole.

  We headed east and aimed for Brookings. Our gas ran low about fifty miles away in the middle of farmland; we had one vehicle that worked. I headed there for help.

  Thankfully, they came for the rest of us. They welcomed us into their small town and were happy about the food we brought. Not that they were short, it was always nice to have more.

  The small city of about twelve thousand people had dwindled down to about one thousand. Those who remained were loyal to their town and didn’t migrate like the rest of the west.

  They honestly believed their remote town would have remained intact, had it not been for the three businessmen who brought the virus into the Holiday Inn.

  We’ve been here about five months now. Making her father proud, Emma registered her agricultural skills with the Twin Falls branch of the Sustainability Project. Her degree, knowledge, and hands on experience was put to work right away. She actually is one of three people that oversee the farming in this division.

  Thank God for her skills and a surviving Brooking teenage boy with a stash of marijuana. I won’t have to worry about that stutter anymore.

  Richie is doing well; he’s just being a teenager. Cody is adjusting and is growing at an astronomical rate. Del is the town’s weekly entertainment and, like me, will teach at the school when it starts in two weeks.

  Recent migration of workers upped the Brookings population. We have forty students.

  The United States is restructuring and rebuilding, and, I guess, so is the rest of the world. We don’t hear much about the rest of the world. Power is back with limited phone communication and radio. Television and internet are a lost luxury. China, as promised, dropped off shipments of the cure.

  I never heard from Edward or Chad again. I can only hope and assume they are doing well.

  Things seem to be moving forward but in a different direction. Survival, growth, that seems to be the number one plan.

  There is an air of peace that is odd. I can’t explain. You wake up every morning, do your thing, and it’s peaceful. No tension.

  Even though every single person that has survived carries with them memories of the old world, memories of pain, suffering, and loss, we all wear these things proudly like a red badge of courage. It was an experience that brought us to a different place.

  In reality, the earth received a cleansing; we have a fresh start. A new beginning, a new world, and a new chance at it all. I hope we do it right this time. />