Disclaimer: Not mine, I still have empty pockets but my clothes are now
full of smoke.
Chapter 2
Sam Seaborne was exhausted, possibly more exhausted than he had ever been.
He ran his hand through his hair, spiking it in multiple directions and sighed a heavy sigh through clenched teeth. Still not comfortable he rolled his head trying desperately to get rid of some of the cricks that had settled there in the last few hours. Nothing he did seemed to improve the pounding in his head. His stomach was churning and his body ached. But no matter what relief he sought for his body he knew relief was not forthcoming for his soul, because he had done a bad thing, an unforgivable thing.
He had left his best friend behind.
Taking a swig from a water bottle an anonymous staffer had handed him only minutes before, the young Deputy Communications Director fought earnestly to swallow the cool liquid around the large lump that had recently formed in his throat. Pushing himself out of the chair that he had been slumped in for the past twenty minutes or so he began to pace back and forth, hoping that his exhaustion would soon overtake him if only to give his mind a few minutes of respite from the emotions that were currently overwhelming him.
A part of him still couldn't believe that Josh had done what he had done. Another part of him wasn't surprised at Josh's rash actions. And yet another part of him hated himself for not doing the same thing.
Josh had gone back for Donna. He had specifically said that he was going back for Donna. Sam hated himself for not even considering the idea of going back for Bonnie or Ginger, Kathy or one of the other assistants. He had taken the Secret Service Agents at their word that the rest of the staffers would be taken care of, as he was hustled and bustled through the corridors to the White House lawn where the marine helicopters were already waiting. In his defence Sam had had little time to think about just what exactly was going on. He hadn't had time to really process it all. He was literally grabbed from the bullpen, told they were under attack and that he had to go "NOW!!". He still held the cup of coffee that he had been holding at the time in his hand as he reached the lawn before throwing it aside. He had reached the helicopter only thirty or twenty or so seconds before Josh appeared through the doors, and already he was eager to get going. But Josh had already made up his mind. He wasn't going with Sam. He was going back for Donna.
That action spoke louder than words. Sam knew Josh had long since been in "De nile" about the way he felt about his assistant. If it wasn't love then it was a deep affectionate friendship that those two shared, the depth of which would make Josh sacrifice his safety and life for Donna. But despite his courage, his heroism and bravery, three words that mean the same thing, Sam damned Josh for making him worry. He might be dead. He could be dead. His best friend could be dead and all because he wouldn't get on the damned chopper.
Pacing the room back and forth, back and forth, he couldn't escape the self recriminating mantra that preoccupied him.
He should have insisted that Josh get on that chopper.
He should have grabbed his arm and dragged him aboard.
He should have made the Marine *order* him on board.
He should have....
Hell, he should have done something to get Josh out!
"Damn it!!" Sam yelled and turned swiftly to punch the wall next to him.
Toby Ziegler gave CJ Cregg a worried look.
"That's gotta hurt, " Toby said.
"You don't say," Sam grimaced as he cradled his hand close to his chest and looked back and forth between his two remaining friends.
They looked only slightly less tired than Sam felt. CJ was uncharacteristically and unceremoniously sprawled out in a chair closest to the door. Her head thrown back, a arm draped across her eyes, she looked much older than her actual years. Never before, not even during the public admission of the President's MS had she looked so haggered and drawn. She tilted her arm to allow herself a peek at Sam, a worrying look sweeping the tired one from her face. Watching Sam's frenzied pacing she shot Toby a nervous look.
A few seats down Toby hung forward on his seat. Chewing slightly, ever minute or so he would slowly reach into his suit jacket pocket and take a few unshelled peanuts out. A pile of shells sat next to him on another chair. He hadn't remembered where he got the nuts. Truth be told he didn't like peanuts all that much, but the activity of shelling them kept him busy and for now, sane.
Shaking his hand slightly, Sam moaned in frustration and anger. Placing his hand protectively under his armpit, he once again paced the room, this time only slightly less than angrily than before.
"We should have tried harder," Sam said in an accusatory tone.
"Did you see the look on his face? Nothing was going to get him on that chopper," Toby sighed showing his level of exhaustion to be somewhat similar to Sam's.
"It doesn't matter. We should've forced him."
"He's a grown man, Sam, we can't force him to do anything," C.J tried..
"We shouldn't have *left* him behind."
"He *chose* to stay behind.," Toby's voice became more insistent.
"And now he's DEAD!!!" Sam spat in his boss' face.
Toby sat motionless, and after a few seconds stared down at his shoe and began shelling nuts again.
"Sam, calm down," CJ rose to him and slipped an arm around his shoulder. She knew he was taking this hard, hell, they all were, but having him fall apart like this in what was fast turning into a case of survivor guilt was not going to help anyone. "We don't know anything for sure yet."
"Intel-" he began but the words were strangled in his throat.
"You heard Nancy, our intelligence reports confirmed bombing in the Capitol, but we don't know the extent. He... *they*," she corrected herself. "They may have already gotten out before that, there's a very good chance..." her voice trailed off. Her words didn't sound very convincing in her own ears let alone to the ears of others.
"Yeah. well, maybe so. But what are we doing for them now?"
"Leo should be ready to talk to us in a few minutes," she offered as hope. "We should know more then."
"And until then?"
"We hope and we pray," offered Toby.
Sam looked over at the older man, and instantly hated himself for blowing up at him when seeing the pain in his eyes. He realised he didn't have a monopoly on grief or guilt in this case. They were all feeling the same thing. They had all failed their friend. They all felt unforgivable.
"We hope and pray, huh.?" He reaffirmed, a small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
CJ, watching the two men and sensing some calm restoring to the room, nodded. "We hope and pray," she sighed while rubbing Sam's back gently. "And we get someone to look at that hand."
Looking down after having momentarily forgotten the intense ache that had radiated from his fingers and wrist, Sam grimaced again.
"Damn." He chuckled.
"What?" CJ asked.
"That's my writing hand," he sighed.
**************************
Donna looked up towards the sky and was immediately confused.
"Josh. It's snowing."
Josh turned his head in the direction of Donna's gaze and for the first time noticed small whitish grey flakes falling slowly, noiselessly and softly to the ground. He stopped walking and turned towards Donna. Lifting his hand he reached for the flakes that had fallen onto her hair and crumbled them between his fingers.
"It's ash," he said.
"Ash?"
"Yeah, there must be fires somewhere."
"But I don't feel hot or any heat."
"And I can't see smoke because of the cloud," he added.
"Maybe it's just debris still falling. There's a lot of paper in this town, Josh. Maybe it was burned in the initial blasts and is only now just coming down," she suggested.
"Maybe," Josh said hesitantly. "Come on, we have to keep going."
Josh pulled her along the street once again., trying hard not to look up too much from his feet. He couldn't take it. The utter devastation that surrounded him was almost too much to bear. Apart from the collapsed buildings, the burnt out and crushed cars that lined the streets, the wreckage that lay everywhere around them, there were oddities that just added to the surreal scene they now found themselves in. Once proud tall and healthy trees were now reduced to match like poles stuck into the ground at odd angles. A whole oak desk had been found lying in the middle of the street, singed slightly and misshaped from seemingly falling from a great height, but still impressive. Street signs were melted and mangled into grotesque shapes. On one street where Josh and Donna used to buy bagels and fruit whips, the diner's window stood proudly declaring in shopfront window paint that this week was buy one get one free week. The colourful writing an utter contrast to the grey that covered and saturated everything else. For a brief moment Josh's eyes lit up at the sight of what he had thought to be a building that was still standing. But as they got closer his hopes sank as he could see that although the front window was intact it was the *only* part of the building that was.
The further they moved away from the Whitehouse the more people they saw. Huddled grey masses moving surprisingly slowly in convey along the devastated streets of Washington. Faces smeared with blood, hair becoming increasingly caked in grey ash, clothes torn or scorched by flames, all moving slowly, calmly, silently away from the horror that surrounded them.
It was too quiet for Josh's liking. He looked up briefly as he stepped over a mound of wreckage that blocked their path and instantly drew Donna closer to his side. A man stood before them off to the right a little. His head slightly bowed, his once navy blue Armani suit now a dirty grey, his left show missing. A streak of pale blue fell down the front of his shirt giving his once impeccable appearance a skunk-like look, his discarded tie now clutched tightly around his right hand that hung limply at his side and dripped steadily with blood. Josh made eye contact with the man and realised that the face that now bore two tear cleansed tracks down his cheeks was one that he knew.
"Bill?" Josh asked in a quiet disbelieving voice stopping where he stood.
Bill Heffernan just stood and stared, looking directly at Josh and Donna but not acknowledging them in any way.
"Bill?" Josh tried again as he took a few steps towards him.
Bill Heffernan's eyes were blank and Josh recognised the vacant stare as belonging to someone who is in deep shock.
Donna sensing the man's obvious distress gently broke from Josh's side and close the gap between them, placing a hand on the man's arm.
A sudden sharp intake of breath startled Josh as he stepped quickly to Donna's side once more. Unlike her boss, Donna was not afraid. Tears welling in her eyes, she gently whispered, "Are you all right?"
Bill's dazed glaze seemed to vanish at her words. He looked down into the blonde's face and blinked heavily as tears began falling down his cheeks again. Quiet sobs quickly grew louder as his shoulders trembled then shook.
Josh's own face began twitching at Bill's emotion. He reached up and put a hand on the older man's shoulder and began to mumble something soothing - he hoped.
"It's going to be okay," Donna was saying over and over again.
The man continued to sway slightly on his feet as he sobs began to diminish. After some time he seemed spent and he sighed heavily once more desperately trying to get himself under control. He wiped his hand across his face, drying some of the tears but only really succeeding in smearing the dirt, dust and blood across his face. He looked into the faces of the two people who stood before him and for the first time a look of recognition crossed his eyes.
"Josh?"
"Yeah," Josh said with a small sad smile.
"Josh Lyman?"
"Yeah Bill, it's me." Josh gave the man two big pats on the back, glad, that he had come somewhat back to himself.
Bill sniffed loudly and quickly drew his eyes to the rest of the street, It was if he was seeing things for the first time and he shook his head and looked once more at Donna.
"You're...?"
"Donna, Donna Moss," she said.
"Have you seen Ronnie?" he asked suddenly hopeful.
Donna gave Josh a look, she didn't know who Ronnie was. A colleague?
Josh equally confused just repeated the name. "Ronnie?"
"Veronica. My wife. She's an assistant to Blake in the OEB."
Josh shook and bowed his head.
"I'm sorry, Bill. I don't know what Veronica looks like. I haven't met her."
"She's tall, long blonde hair like you," he nodded towards Donna.
"I'm sorry," Donna said, desperately wishing that she had seen someone matching his wife's description.
"She has green eyes and she wore a red dress today, I was joking about it on the way in this morning, how she was a woman in red-"
"I'm sorry, Bill," Josh was whispering again.
"She wore her hair up today in a pony tail, said she wanted to get it out of her face. She had a gold necklace that was quite thick-"
"I'm sorry Bill, we haven't seen her."
"You couldn't miss her in a dress like that. She's tall, blonde and eight months pregnant."
Donna wished she could have stopped the gasp she made when Bill Heffernan told her about his missing wife who was eight months pregnant.
"Today was her last day. She was going out to lunch. Walking down the street she would have looked like a giant apple or strawberry coming towards you. I haven't seen anyone I know from the OEB come this way. Have you?"
"No," Josh sad sadly.
The three of them stood there together silently for more than a minute. Josh standing slightly behind Donna could see her shoulders twitching slightly and knew she was crying. He watched Bill as he looked at his feet, a look of confusion settling in after no doubt discovering that he had only one shoe on. Josh reached up and placed both hands on Donna's shoulders squeezing gently in what he hoped was a comforting and reassuring gesture.
Donna, softly cleared her throat and turned to Bill again. "Come with us, we're leaving the city."
"What?" Bill asked still confused.
"Come with us."
"No. I'm going back. I have to find Ronnie."
"Bill, Donna's right. You should come with us. Ronnie is probably with the rest of the staff from the OEB. They're probably in an evacuation centre not far from here."
"No. I'm going to go back there first. It's the first place I gotta look. She's eight months pregnant, as big as a house, she can't walk very far. She'll probably be waiting for me there. I told her I would pick her up from work-"
"Bill."
"She usually waits for me downstairs, parking's a bitch-"
"Bill, come with us and we'll help you find her."
"We've got reservations at Dosier's tonight. You know, go out as a couple once last time, before the baby comes."
"Bill, you're hurt," Donna said reaching for his hand but also hoping to reach him inside as well. "You're bleeding," she whispered as she turned his hand over and moved the tie out of the way. The sticky blood spread over her fingers.
"I cut it on a window. I crawled out of a window. I haven't done that since I was six years old."
"Come with us, please," Donna's voice begged.
"I can't, but thanks." he stepped away from them.
"If you see Ronnie..." he began but faded.
"Yeah," Josh said choked.
Bill Heffernan turned and took some tentative steps in the opposite direction before Donna's voice called to him.
"Wait." She went up to him and gave him an unexpected hug. "Good luck," she said. "Take care."
Instead of thanking her, Bill smiled weakly, turned and walked on.
Donna turned back towards Josh and fell into his arms. He knew what she was feeling. It was the same feeling of helplessness that had been washing over him since they first left the sewer. There was nothing they could do just yet to make it better, but there would be in the future. She cried silently as Josh held her close and rocked her back and forth. Stroking her hair he felt her body relax after a while. Donna pulled back wiped her eyes and looked at Josh. He smiled that sad smile again, kissed her forehead and turned them to continue down the street.
They hadn't said a word. There wasn't much to left to say....
End
Thanks for the feedback for Evacuate 1. I never intended for this to be a series. I was initially intrigued by what Josh would do if he ever had to evacuate and leave Donna behind. Then the little "Marjorie" scene popped into my head and I kind of got stuck there for months on end. It just so happens that with the utter devastation that has hit Canberra where I live in the last week, has meant that the scene with Bill Heffernan is real. The lump that's constantly in Sam's throat is mine. Yesterday I toured my best friends' neighbourhood where too many died and where too many more came close to dying and I can't describe what I saw... the adjectives just won't come, like the tears do. It's weird when you walk into a mall and see people walking along, seemingly minding their own business, shopping by themselves, lost in the day to day things that we take for granted only to suddenly stop in an aisle or on an escalator. As many round them and silently curse them for being in the way, you suddenly notice the tears falling silently down their cheeks, the vacant stares in their eyes, their hitching breathes. And it almost has you undone as you desperately try, sometimes in vain, to pull it together.
Now for all those who were concerned, my house still stands and a fire front is due again tomorrow, so we once again sit and wait to see if we are spared... and in a very weird way I can't help but think if we could have bottled all the tears that fell this week in Canberra, surely there'd be enough to douse any inferno that may rise up against us.
Fingers crossed
Rhasa
Chapter 2
Sam Seaborne was exhausted, possibly more exhausted than he had ever been.
He ran his hand through his hair, spiking it in multiple directions and sighed a heavy sigh through clenched teeth. Still not comfortable he rolled his head trying desperately to get rid of some of the cricks that had settled there in the last few hours. Nothing he did seemed to improve the pounding in his head. His stomach was churning and his body ached. But no matter what relief he sought for his body he knew relief was not forthcoming for his soul, because he had done a bad thing, an unforgivable thing.
He had left his best friend behind.
Taking a swig from a water bottle an anonymous staffer had handed him only minutes before, the young Deputy Communications Director fought earnestly to swallow the cool liquid around the large lump that had recently formed in his throat. Pushing himself out of the chair that he had been slumped in for the past twenty minutes or so he began to pace back and forth, hoping that his exhaustion would soon overtake him if only to give his mind a few minutes of respite from the emotions that were currently overwhelming him.
A part of him still couldn't believe that Josh had done what he had done. Another part of him wasn't surprised at Josh's rash actions. And yet another part of him hated himself for not doing the same thing.
Josh had gone back for Donna. He had specifically said that he was going back for Donna. Sam hated himself for not even considering the idea of going back for Bonnie or Ginger, Kathy or one of the other assistants. He had taken the Secret Service Agents at their word that the rest of the staffers would be taken care of, as he was hustled and bustled through the corridors to the White House lawn where the marine helicopters were already waiting. In his defence Sam had had little time to think about just what exactly was going on. He hadn't had time to really process it all. He was literally grabbed from the bullpen, told they were under attack and that he had to go "NOW!!". He still held the cup of coffee that he had been holding at the time in his hand as he reached the lawn before throwing it aside. He had reached the helicopter only thirty or twenty or so seconds before Josh appeared through the doors, and already he was eager to get going. But Josh had already made up his mind. He wasn't going with Sam. He was going back for Donna.
That action spoke louder than words. Sam knew Josh had long since been in "De nile" about the way he felt about his assistant. If it wasn't love then it was a deep affectionate friendship that those two shared, the depth of which would make Josh sacrifice his safety and life for Donna. But despite his courage, his heroism and bravery, three words that mean the same thing, Sam damned Josh for making him worry. He might be dead. He could be dead. His best friend could be dead and all because he wouldn't get on the damned chopper.
Pacing the room back and forth, back and forth, he couldn't escape the self recriminating mantra that preoccupied him.
He should have insisted that Josh get on that chopper.
He should have grabbed his arm and dragged him aboard.
He should have made the Marine *order* him on board.
He should have....
Hell, he should have done something to get Josh out!
"Damn it!!" Sam yelled and turned swiftly to punch the wall next to him.
Toby Ziegler gave CJ Cregg a worried look.
"That's gotta hurt, " Toby said.
"You don't say," Sam grimaced as he cradled his hand close to his chest and looked back and forth between his two remaining friends.
They looked only slightly less tired than Sam felt. CJ was uncharacteristically and unceremoniously sprawled out in a chair closest to the door. Her head thrown back, a arm draped across her eyes, she looked much older than her actual years. Never before, not even during the public admission of the President's MS had she looked so haggered and drawn. She tilted her arm to allow herself a peek at Sam, a worrying look sweeping the tired one from her face. Watching Sam's frenzied pacing she shot Toby a nervous look.
A few seats down Toby hung forward on his seat. Chewing slightly, ever minute or so he would slowly reach into his suit jacket pocket and take a few unshelled peanuts out. A pile of shells sat next to him on another chair. He hadn't remembered where he got the nuts. Truth be told he didn't like peanuts all that much, but the activity of shelling them kept him busy and for now, sane.
Shaking his hand slightly, Sam moaned in frustration and anger. Placing his hand protectively under his armpit, he once again paced the room, this time only slightly less than angrily than before.
"We should have tried harder," Sam said in an accusatory tone.
"Did you see the look on his face? Nothing was going to get him on that chopper," Toby sighed showing his level of exhaustion to be somewhat similar to Sam's.
"It doesn't matter. We should've forced him."
"He's a grown man, Sam, we can't force him to do anything," C.J tried..
"We shouldn't have *left* him behind."
"He *chose* to stay behind.," Toby's voice became more insistent.
"And now he's DEAD!!!" Sam spat in his boss' face.
Toby sat motionless, and after a few seconds stared down at his shoe and began shelling nuts again.
"Sam, calm down," CJ rose to him and slipped an arm around his shoulder. She knew he was taking this hard, hell, they all were, but having him fall apart like this in what was fast turning into a case of survivor guilt was not going to help anyone. "We don't know anything for sure yet."
"Intel-" he began but the words were strangled in his throat.
"You heard Nancy, our intelligence reports confirmed bombing in the Capitol, but we don't know the extent. He... *they*," she corrected herself. "They may have already gotten out before that, there's a very good chance..." her voice trailed off. Her words didn't sound very convincing in her own ears let alone to the ears of others.
"Yeah. well, maybe so. But what are we doing for them now?"
"Leo should be ready to talk to us in a few minutes," she offered as hope. "We should know more then."
"And until then?"
"We hope and we pray," offered Toby.
Sam looked over at the older man, and instantly hated himself for blowing up at him when seeing the pain in his eyes. He realised he didn't have a monopoly on grief or guilt in this case. They were all feeling the same thing. They had all failed their friend. They all felt unforgivable.
"We hope and pray, huh.?" He reaffirmed, a small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
CJ, watching the two men and sensing some calm restoring to the room, nodded. "We hope and pray," she sighed while rubbing Sam's back gently. "And we get someone to look at that hand."
Looking down after having momentarily forgotten the intense ache that had radiated from his fingers and wrist, Sam grimaced again.
"Damn." He chuckled.
"What?" CJ asked.
"That's my writing hand," he sighed.
**************************
Donna looked up towards the sky and was immediately confused.
"Josh. It's snowing."
Josh turned his head in the direction of Donna's gaze and for the first time noticed small whitish grey flakes falling slowly, noiselessly and softly to the ground. He stopped walking and turned towards Donna. Lifting his hand he reached for the flakes that had fallen onto her hair and crumbled them between his fingers.
"It's ash," he said.
"Ash?"
"Yeah, there must be fires somewhere."
"But I don't feel hot or any heat."
"And I can't see smoke because of the cloud," he added.
"Maybe it's just debris still falling. There's a lot of paper in this town, Josh. Maybe it was burned in the initial blasts and is only now just coming down," she suggested.
"Maybe," Josh said hesitantly. "Come on, we have to keep going."
Josh pulled her along the street once again., trying hard not to look up too much from his feet. He couldn't take it. The utter devastation that surrounded him was almost too much to bear. Apart from the collapsed buildings, the burnt out and crushed cars that lined the streets, the wreckage that lay everywhere around them, there were oddities that just added to the surreal scene they now found themselves in. Once proud tall and healthy trees were now reduced to match like poles stuck into the ground at odd angles. A whole oak desk had been found lying in the middle of the street, singed slightly and misshaped from seemingly falling from a great height, but still impressive. Street signs were melted and mangled into grotesque shapes. On one street where Josh and Donna used to buy bagels and fruit whips, the diner's window stood proudly declaring in shopfront window paint that this week was buy one get one free week. The colourful writing an utter contrast to the grey that covered and saturated everything else. For a brief moment Josh's eyes lit up at the sight of what he had thought to be a building that was still standing. But as they got closer his hopes sank as he could see that although the front window was intact it was the *only* part of the building that was.
The further they moved away from the Whitehouse the more people they saw. Huddled grey masses moving surprisingly slowly in convey along the devastated streets of Washington. Faces smeared with blood, hair becoming increasingly caked in grey ash, clothes torn or scorched by flames, all moving slowly, calmly, silently away from the horror that surrounded them.
It was too quiet for Josh's liking. He looked up briefly as he stepped over a mound of wreckage that blocked their path and instantly drew Donna closer to his side. A man stood before them off to the right a little. His head slightly bowed, his once navy blue Armani suit now a dirty grey, his left show missing. A streak of pale blue fell down the front of his shirt giving his once impeccable appearance a skunk-like look, his discarded tie now clutched tightly around his right hand that hung limply at his side and dripped steadily with blood. Josh made eye contact with the man and realised that the face that now bore two tear cleansed tracks down his cheeks was one that he knew.
"Bill?" Josh asked in a quiet disbelieving voice stopping where he stood.
Bill Heffernan just stood and stared, looking directly at Josh and Donna but not acknowledging them in any way.
"Bill?" Josh tried again as he took a few steps towards him.
Bill Heffernan's eyes were blank and Josh recognised the vacant stare as belonging to someone who is in deep shock.
Donna sensing the man's obvious distress gently broke from Josh's side and close the gap between them, placing a hand on the man's arm.
A sudden sharp intake of breath startled Josh as he stepped quickly to Donna's side once more. Unlike her boss, Donna was not afraid. Tears welling in her eyes, she gently whispered, "Are you all right?"
Bill's dazed glaze seemed to vanish at her words. He looked down into the blonde's face and blinked heavily as tears began falling down his cheeks again. Quiet sobs quickly grew louder as his shoulders trembled then shook.
Josh's own face began twitching at Bill's emotion. He reached up and put a hand on the older man's shoulder and began to mumble something soothing - he hoped.
"It's going to be okay," Donna was saying over and over again.
The man continued to sway slightly on his feet as he sobs began to diminish. After some time he seemed spent and he sighed heavily once more desperately trying to get himself under control. He wiped his hand across his face, drying some of the tears but only really succeeding in smearing the dirt, dust and blood across his face. He looked into the faces of the two people who stood before him and for the first time a look of recognition crossed his eyes.
"Josh?"
"Yeah," Josh said with a small sad smile.
"Josh Lyman?"
"Yeah Bill, it's me." Josh gave the man two big pats on the back, glad, that he had come somewhat back to himself.
Bill sniffed loudly and quickly drew his eyes to the rest of the street, It was if he was seeing things for the first time and he shook his head and looked once more at Donna.
"You're...?"
"Donna, Donna Moss," she said.
"Have you seen Ronnie?" he asked suddenly hopeful.
Donna gave Josh a look, she didn't know who Ronnie was. A colleague?
Josh equally confused just repeated the name. "Ronnie?"
"Veronica. My wife. She's an assistant to Blake in the OEB."
Josh shook and bowed his head.
"I'm sorry, Bill. I don't know what Veronica looks like. I haven't met her."
"She's tall, long blonde hair like you," he nodded towards Donna.
"I'm sorry," Donna said, desperately wishing that she had seen someone matching his wife's description.
"She has green eyes and she wore a red dress today, I was joking about it on the way in this morning, how she was a woman in red-"
"I'm sorry, Bill," Josh was whispering again.
"She wore her hair up today in a pony tail, said she wanted to get it out of her face. She had a gold necklace that was quite thick-"
"I'm sorry Bill, we haven't seen her."
"You couldn't miss her in a dress like that. She's tall, blonde and eight months pregnant."
Donna wished she could have stopped the gasp she made when Bill Heffernan told her about his missing wife who was eight months pregnant.
"Today was her last day. She was going out to lunch. Walking down the street she would have looked like a giant apple or strawberry coming towards you. I haven't seen anyone I know from the OEB come this way. Have you?"
"No," Josh sad sadly.
The three of them stood there together silently for more than a minute. Josh standing slightly behind Donna could see her shoulders twitching slightly and knew she was crying. He watched Bill as he looked at his feet, a look of confusion settling in after no doubt discovering that he had only one shoe on. Josh reached up and placed both hands on Donna's shoulders squeezing gently in what he hoped was a comforting and reassuring gesture.
Donna, softly cleared her throat and turned to Bill again. "Come with us, we're leaving the city."
"What?" Bill asked still confused.
"Come with us."
"No. I'm going back. I have to find Ronnie."
"Bill, Donna's right. You should come with us. Ronnie is probably with the rest of the staff from the OEB. They're probably in an evacuation centre not far from here."
"No. I'm going to go back there first. It's the first place I gotta look. She's eight months pregnant, as big as a house, she can't walk very far. She'll probably be waiting for me there. I told her I would pick her up from work-"
"Bill."
"She usually waits for me downstairs, parking's a bitch-"
"Bill, come with us and we'll help you find her."
"We've got reservations at Dosier's tonight. You know, go out as a couple once last time, before the baby comes."
"Bill, you're hurt," Donna said reaching for his hand but also hoping to reach him inside as well. "You're bleeding," she whispered as she turned his hand over and moved the tie out of the way. The sticky blood spread over her fingers.
"I cut it on a window. I crawled out of a window. I haven't done that since I was six years old."
"Come with us, please," Donna's voice begged.
"I can't, but thanks." he stepped away from them.
"If you see Ronnie..." he began but faded.
"Yeah," Josh said choked.
Bill Heffernan turned and took some tentative steps in the opposite direction before Donna's voice called to him.
"Wait." She went up to him and gave him an unexpected hug. "Good luck," she said. "Take care."
Instead of thanking her, Bill smiled weakly, turned and walked on.
Donna turned back towards Josh and fell into his arms. He knew what she was feeling. It was the same feeling of helplessness that had been washing over him since they first left the sewer. There was nothing they could do just yet to make it better, but there would be in the future. She cried silently as Josh held her close and rocked her back and forth. Stroking her hair he felt her body relax after a while. Donna pulled back wiped her eyes and looked at Josh. He smiled that sad smile again, kissed her forehead and turned them to continue down the street.
They hadn't said a word. There wasn't much to left to say....
End
Thanks for the feedback for Evacuate 1. I never intended for this to be a series. I was initially intrigued by what Josh would do if he ever had to evacuate and leave Donna behind. Then the little "Marjorie" scene popped into my head and I kind of got stuck there for months on end. It just so happens that with the utter devastation that has hit Canberra where I live in the last week, has meant that the scene with Bill Heffernan is real. The lump that's constantly in Sam's throat is mine. Yesterday I toured my best friends' neighbourhood where too many died and where too many more came close to dying and I can't describe what I saw... the adjectives just won't come, like the tears do. It's weird when you walk into a mall and see people walking along, seemingly minding their own business, shopping by themselves, lost in the day to day things that we take for granted only to suddenly stop in an aisle or on an escalator. As many round them and silently curse them for being in the way, you suddenly notice the tears falling silently down their cheeks, the vacant stares in their eyes, their hitching breathes. And it almost has you undone as you desperately try, sometimes in vain, to pull it together.
Now for all those who were concerned, my house still stands and a fire front is due again tomorrow, so we once again sit and wait to see if we are spared... and in a very weird way I can't help but think if we could have bottled all the tears that fell this week in Canberra, surely there'd be enough to douse any inferno that may rise up against us.
Fingers crossed
Rhasa