Evacuate Chapter 3
Author: Rhasa
Disclaimer: Not mine- still
Leo stormed into what was temporarily his make shift office. Unlike
the rest of the senior staff, whose fatigued caused them to brace
themselves against various items of furniture just so they could
remain standing, Leo was full of energy or total anger - he couldn't
decide which at the moment.
He should have seen this coming.
But he didn't.
The experts, military and otherwise, had reassured both he and the
President that there was no way anyone could have anticipated this
unprecedented attack. No way - that's what they said; but that still
didn't make him feel any less pissed.
He was overwhelmingly pissed. And incredibly scared. More scared than
he had been in his entire life. Looking at the three faces in front
of him, he could see a similar fear and it tugged at his heart for a
second or two, before he pulled himself back into professional
working mode and began barking at his staff.
"Okay, we've got five minutes together before I have to meet with
the
President, Nancy and the Joint chiefs again."
"Josh isn't here," Sam said.
"Well I can't afford to wait around for him. We'll start
while you go
get him Sam, a briefing is still a briefing."
"No, Leo. I mean he's not *here*."
"I can see that," the Chief of Staff said, already getting impatient
and annoyed.
"I mean `as with the rest of us', here in this facility," Sam
sighed.
Leo shot Toby a pleading look, one which undoubted said, `help me
out
here'.
Toby bowed his head. "Josh did not get out."
"He didn't get out?" Leo asked, his brow wrinkling at his
confusion. "What do you mean? He's back in Washington?"
"He went back," Sam said, hoping to once and for all clarify the
situation but only ended up confusing Leo more.
"He went back? When?"
CJ sighed heavily. "No. When we were evacuated, Josh didn't get
on
the chopper. He went to, but then, at the last minute, he said he had
to go back for Donna and returned to the Whitehouse as we took off."
"Jesus Christ." Leo sat for a few seconds, the gears whirring in his
head. "Have you checked to see if he got out on another chopper?"
"We were the last chopper, Leo. There weren't any more choppers,"
Toby mumbled.
Leo went silent and still for a few moments. Flashes of confusion,
then concern and finally anger seemed to streak across his face."Of
all the crazy, stupid..." Leo began to mumble but one look at
Sam's
face told him this was not the time to vent his anger. He thought
for a moment. "It's just so like him. So like Josh. He didn't
arrive
with the rest of the staffers in the convoy?"
"No." said CJ. "Carol said that she didn't know where Donna was,
or
Josh for that matter. She thought they were in another car, but no
one has seen them."
Leo nodded silently taking in what the others were saying. Josh was
lost. They had lost Josh and Donna. For all he knew they could be
behind enemy lines and he felt completely and utterly helpless to do
anything about it.
"Alright, I'm going to get Nancy and anyone else I can grab on
it."
The old man stood up and griped the edge of his desk. To those that
knew him that simple gesture revealed just how shaken he was about
Josh and Donna's current predicament.
"Leo? What's the word," Sam asked, as he shuffled his feet.
"It's not good. All satellite communications are down. I tell you
it's like the dark ages. We know the capital took direct fire for
four hours beginning only seven minutes after we lifted off. So far
we have received no word of ground forces approaching. Fighters are
currently engaged in battle with enemy forces about 200 miles of the
east coast. They've sustained heavy casualties and are
desperately
trying to hold them off from flying over the mainland again.
That's
all I know for now. We should know more soon."
"Leo? Do you think... you know... they're okay? Do you think
they're
okay?"
He could see the fear in Sam's eyes and sensed that he
desperately
needed some reassurance. There was something in the younger man's
eyes that told him he was nearing the edge. He needed reassurance,
even though Leo found it hard to give, he tried. "Sam, don't
worry.
This is Josh we're talking about. That guy has more lives than a
cat.
And there's no way he would allow anything to happen to Donna.
I'm
sure they're fine. I could still use him here though."
"Yeah, so could I." Sam whispered.
"What happened to your hand?" Leo asked.
************
Donnatella Moss was exhausted, extremely so, but despite that fact,
she couldn't sleep. Perhaps it was because she wasn't used to
sleeping with the lights on. Or the simple fact that for a really
decent rest she needed her feather pillow. But most likely it was
because the muted sobs that had kept her company for a few hours now,
denied her any real chance of rest.
They just didn't seem to stop. Someone was always crying. Tired
and
scared children, grieving adults, men or women, it really didn't
make
a difference, it just went on and on and on. Every time someone new
would come in there'd be a fresh round of sobs, more tears to add
to
the dirt and dust stains on the pillows. Sobs and sniffs and coughs,
whispers and sighs, a neverending cacophony of grief and despair and
it was too much for Donna to take.
A few rows down a woman had just turned in for the night. Donna had
never met her but she instantly hated her. She waited, and listened.
She knew the pattern by now. The soft rustling noises came first as
the woman got into bed. The squeaks and creaks that were the result
of the new occupant twisting and turning trying desperately to get
comfortable and then the silence. Except, it wouldn't stay silent
for
long. Perhaps a minute or two later, the small sniffs would start.
They could last from a minute up until five. This was perhaps the
hardest time for Donna. She lay wide awake despite her weariness and
chanted over and over, "Please don't start, please don't
start,
please don't start. Don't start, don't start, don't
start, please, oh
God."
But either God wasn't listening or he thought otherwise, because
they
started. They always started. First, the soft sobs, then the hitching
breathes, and finally the moans that seem to pierce Donna's
skull
again and again and again.
Damn her. "Shutupshutupshutupshutupshutupshutup..."
"Donna?" a soft voice whispered next to her.
She hadn't thought she had been talking loud enough for him to
hear.
"Donna, are you okay?"
She couldn't answer him.
The women a few rows away mumbled something high pitched. It sounded
like a name, John or Jack, or Jake or it could've been Joan. It
was
so strangled with emotion but Donna knew it was a name because so
many Chris', and Franks and Jeans and Matts and Simons, Pauls,
and
Roberts had come before it. All in that same voice, that same stupid
voice that wouldn't shut up.
"Donna," Josh called again.
"I just want it to stop Josh," she sighed.
"I know," he said. His calm voice sounded odd in the darkness.
"They just won't stop crying. All they do is cry. When one stops,
another starts again."
"I know."
"The men too. They cry and cry and cry."
"They have to. They need to, although they probably don't want
to."
"They won't shut up. I just want to go up to them and... and...
and
shake them or something and tell them to shut up!" she whispered
loudly.
"Hey..." he sighed in a soft voice just before Donna heard him move
his cot closer to hers.
His hand came out of the darkness and began to stroke her hair and
cheek. Her jaw ached and she opened her mouth wide to release some of
the tension that she hadn't realized was there.
"I hate them, Josh."
"No you don't."
"I do. I really, really hate them. And I hate myself for hating them."
"Ssssssssshhhhhhhh," he said as he continued to stroke her shoulders,
her hair, her face.
"I'm evil and selfish," she sniffed.
"No," he whispered.
"What kind of a person hates other people for crying?"
"Someone who hasn't cried enough herself yet." It was at that
moment
that Josh's thumb stroked across Donna's eyelids. He drew
them down
her face and for the first time Donna felt the wetness of her own
tears, the ones that had been there all along.
"Oh god," she sobbed, her cries and her hitching breaths joining the
song of the others in the room...
Josh didn't know how long he held her. He pulled his cot over
until
it was flush with hers and silently cursed its wooden frame for not
allowing him to pull her more fully into his arms. Her cries were not
dissimilar to the hundreds of others that had filled the evacuation
center, but they were felt more deeply by him than the others had
been.
This should never have happened. They should never have been here.
None of these lost and broken people should have had to be here. What
the hell had gone wrong?
Josh knew there would be questions to be answered later.
Unfortunately he was all too familiar with the grief process, his
memories of the shooting still resurfaced in his nightmares from time
to time. After a tragedy came shock and disbelief. Donna's
behavior
earlier had shown that she was well into that stage. He knew she
wasn't as cold hearted as she had feared she was. It was just a
reaction to the stress, the worry she was feeling. She hadn't
been
able to process everything she had seen in the last twenty fours
hours. That would come much later. She, like so many others, was
happy just to be alive, the enormity of the loss and the realization
of just how lucky she was, was still to come.
"I hate the not knowing," she whispered, sometime later, after Josh
had held her through the worse part of it. "I don't know what
happened to Bonnie or Ginger or Margaret."
"Margaret went with Leo."
"She did?"
"Yeah. She's okay."
"We had so little time to prepare."
"I know."
"If we had more time..."
"There's never enough time," he sighed.
"Josh?"
"Yeah?"
"Do you think they're safe? Bonnie, Ginger, Kathy, Carol, the
rest of
them?"
"Yeah, I do. I honestly do."
"How can you be so sure?"
"Think about it, logically. You and I were the last to leave. The
other's had a good five minutes at least on us. We left by foot.
They
left by car. Naturally they got further away from the blasts than we
did."
"But we don't know exactly what areas were hit."
"It's an educated guess that the prime targets were the White
House
and Pentagon. They would have cleared those by the time the firing
started."
"Are you just saying that to make me feel better."
"No."
She was quiet for a while. Josh longed to know what she was thinking.
He was already worried about her. He felt a small shiver run through
her and moved to hitch her blanket up higher, tucking it under her
chin as if she was five years old.
"Josh?" her soft whisper broke through the darkness.
"Yeah?"
"Do you think Bill Heffernan's wife is dead?"
"I don't know, Donna," he sighed and closed his eyes at the
memory of
Bill Heffernan and the despair that was etched on his face.
"I can't imagine what he must be going through," she said.
I can thought Josh. The loss that man must have felt while
searching for his wife. The panic, the fear, the torment, the
insufferable pain that would have settled in his chest. Josh could
imagine those things - he had had a glimpse of those feelings during
the short time it had taken him to turn back from the helicopter and
go in search for Donna. He hoped, he prayed, that Bill's search would
end in the same overwhelming sense of relief as his own had. Truth
was, if he hadn't found Donna, Josh would most probably be standing
lost, alone, and nearly broken in the middle of the deserted streets
of Washington, just like Bill.
"I'm so lucky," Donna's voice rose out of the darkness once more.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. I've still got you," she whispered.
"Yeah," he smiled. "You've still got me. Now, get some sleep."
He pulled her further into his arms and stroked her hair. He
didn't
want to consider her questions - about the unknown fate of so many
others that were in their minds. He knew the tally of those that
didn't make it through this was going to be high, he just
couldn't
bring himself to wonder just how high. Leaning down slightly, he
gently kissed the top of Donna's head. In no time she was finally
asleep, leaving Josh wide awake in the unfamiliar surroundings.
Author's Notes:
Boy was this weak. Sorry guys it just didn't want to go where I
wanted it to go. I often wonder if the writer is the master or the
slave.
To those of you who have been sending such wonderful support in light
of the recent events in my town, thanks. I guess all your prayers
must have worked. The fire front got within four kilometers yesterday
and then a late change saved us. Today we are battling forty degree
(Celsius) heat and 65km per hour winds. So far, so good.
Author: Rhasa
Disclaimer: Not mine- still
Leo stormed into what was temporarily his make shift office. Unlike
the rest of the senior staff, whose fatigued caused them to brace
themselves against various items of furniture just so they could
remain standing, Leo was full of energy or total anger - he couldn't
decide which at the moment.
He should have seen this coming.
But he didn't.
The experts, military and otherwise, had reassured both he and the
President that there was no way anyone could have anticipated this
unprecedented attack. No way - that's what they said; but that still
didn't make him feel any less pissed.
He was overwhelmingly pissed. And incredibly scared. More scared than
he had been in his entire life. Looking at the three faces in front
of him, he could see a similar fear and it tugged at his heart for a
second or two, before he pulled himself back into professional
working mode and began barking at his staff.
"Okay, we've got five minutes together before I have to meet with
the
President, Nancy and the Joint chiefs again."
"Josh isn't here," Sam said.
"Well I can't afford to wait around for him. We'll start
while you go
get him Sam, a briefing is still a briefing."
"No, Leo. I mean he's not *here*."
"I can see that," the Chief of Staff said, already getting impatient
and annoyed.
"I mean `as with the rest of us', here in this facility," Sam
sighed.
Leo shot Toby a pleading look, one which undoubted said, `help me
out
here'.
Toby bowed his head. "Josh did not get out."
"He didn't get out?" Leo asked, his brow wrinkling at his
confusion. "What do you mean? He's back in Washington?"
"He went back," Sam said, hoping to once and for all clarify the
situation but only ended up confusing Leo more.
"He went back? When?"
CJ sighed heavily. "No. When we were evacuated, Josh didn't get
on
the chopper. He went to, but then, at the last minute, he said he had
to go back for Donna and returned to the Whitehouse as we took off."
"Jesus Christ." Leo sat for a few seconds, the gears whirring in his
head. "Have you checked to see if he got out on another chopper?"
"We were the last chopper, Leo. There weren't any more choppers,"
Toby mumbled.
Leo went silent and still for a few moments. Flashes of confusion,
then concern and finally anger seemed to streak across his face."Of
all the crazy, stupid..." Leo began to mumble but one look at
Sam's
face told him this was not the time to vent his anger. He thought
for a moment. "It's just so like him. So like Josh. He didn't
arrive
with the rest of the staffers in the convoy?"
"No." said CJ. "Carol said that she didn't know where Donna was,
or
Josh for that matter. She thought they were in another car, but no
one has seen them."
Leo nodded silently taking in what the others were saying. Josh was
lost. They had lost Josh and Donna. For all he knew they could be
behind enemy lines and he felt completely and utterly helpless to do
anything about it.
"Alright, I'm going to get Nancy and anyone else I can grab on
it."
The old man stood up and griped the edge of his desk. To those that
knew him that simple gesture revealed just how shaken he was about
Josh and Donna's current predicament.
"Leo? What's the word," Sam asked, as he shuffled his feet.
"It's not good. All satellite communications are down. I tell you
it's like the dark ages. We know the capital took direct fire for
four hours beginning only seven minutes after we lifted off. So far
we have received no word of ground forces approaching. Fighters are
currently engaged in battle with enemy forces about 200 miles of the
east coast. They've sustained heavy casualties and are
desperately
trying to hold them off from flying over the mainland again.
That's
all I know for now. We should know more soon."
"Leo? Do you think... you know... they're okay? Do you think
they're
okay?"
He could see the fear in Sam's eyes and sensed that he
desperately
needed some reassurance. There was something in the younger man's
eyes that told him he was nearing the edge. He needed reassurance,
even though Leo found it hard to give, he tried. "Sam, don't
worry.
This is Josh we're talking about. That guy has more lives than a
cat.
And there's no way he would allow anything to happen to Donna.
I'm
sure they're fine. I could still use him here though."
"Yeah, so could I." Sam whispered.
"What happened to your hand?" Leo asked.
************
Donnatella Moss was exhausted, extremely so, but despite that fact,
she couldn't sleep. Perhaps it was because she wasn't used to
sleeping with the lights on. Or the simple fact that for a really
decent rest she needed her feather pillow. But most likely it was
because the muted sobs that had kept her company for a few hours now,
denied her any real chance of rest.
They just didn't seem to stop. Someone was always crying. Tired
and
scared children, grieving adults, men or women, it really didn't
make
a difference, it just went on and on and on. Every time someone new
would come in there'd be a fresh round of sobs, more tears to add
to
the dirt and dust stains on the pillows. Sobs and sniffs and coughs,
whispers and sighs, a neverending cacophony of grief and despair and
it was too much for Donna to take.
A few rows down a woman had just turned in for the night. Donna had
never met her but she instantly hated her. She waited, and listened.
She knew the pattern by now. The soft rustling noises came first as
the woman got into bed. The squeaks and creaks that were the result
of the new occupant twisting and turning trying desperately to get
comfortable and then the silence. Except, it wouldn't stay silent
for
long. Perhaps a minute or two later, the small sniffs would start.
They could last from a minute up until five. This was perhaps the
hardest time for Donna. She lay wide awake despite her weariness and
chanted over and over, "Please don't start, please don't
start,
please don't start. Don't start, don't start, don't
start, please, oh
God."
But either God wasn't listening or he thought otherwise, because
they
started. They always started. First, the soft sobs, then the hitching
breathes, and finally the moans that seem to pierce Donna's
skull
again and again and again.
Damn her. "Shutupshutupshutupshutupshutupshutup..."
"Donna?" a soft voice whispered next to her.
She hadn't thought she had been talking loud enough for him to
hear.
"Donna, are you okay?"
She couldn't answer him.
The women a few rows away mumbled something high pitched. It sounded
like a name, John or Jack, or Jake or it could've been Joan. It
was
so strangled with emotion but Donna knew it was a name because so
many Chris', and Franks and Jeans and Matts and Simons, Pauls,
and
Roberts had come before it. All in that same voice, that same stupid
voice that wouldn't shut up.
"Donna," Josh called again.
"I just want it to stop Josh," she sighed.
"I know," he said. His calm voice sounded odd in the darkness.
"They just won't stop crying. All they do is cry. When one stops,
another starts again."
"I know."
"The men too. They cry and cry and cry."
"They have to. They need to, although they probably don't want
to."
"They won't shut up. I just want to go up to them and... and...
and
shake them or something and tell them to shut up!" she whispered
loudly.
"Hey..." he sighed in a soft voice just before Donna heard him move
his cot closer to hers.
His hand came out of the darkness and began to stroke her hair and
cheek. Her jaw ached and she opened her mouth wide to release some of
the tension that she hadn't realized was there.
"I hate them, Josh."
"No you don't."
"I do. I really, really hate them. And I hate myself for hating them."
"Ssssssssshhhhhhhh," he said as he continued to stroke her shoulders,
her hair, her face.
"I'm evil and selfish," she sniffed.
"No," he whispered.
"What kind of a person hates other people for crying?"
"Someone who hasn't cried enough herself yet." It was at that
moment
that Josh's thumb stroked across Donna's eyelids. He drew
them down
her face and for the first time Donna felt the wetness of her own
tears, the ones that had been there all along.
"Oh god," she sobbed, her cries and her hitching breaths joining the
song of the others in the room...
Josh didn't know how long he held her. He pulled his cot over
until
it was flush with hers and silently cursed its wooden frame for not
allowing him to pull her more fully into his arms. Her cries were not
dissimilar to the hundreds of others that had filled the evacuation
center, but they were felt more deeply by him than the others had
been.
This should never have happened. They should never have been here.
None of these lost and broken people should have had to be here. What
the hell had gone wrong?
Josh knew there would be questions to be answered later.
Unfortunately he was all too familiar with the grief process, his
memories of the shooting still resurfaced in his nightmares from time
to time. After a tragedy came shock and disbelief. Donna's
behavior
earlier had shown that she was well into that stage. He knew she
wasn't as cold hearted as she had feared she was. It was just a
reaction to the stress, the worry she was feeling. She hadn't
been
able to process everything she had seen in the last twenty fours
hours. That would come much later. She, like so many others, was
happy just to be alive, the enormity of the loss and the realization
of just how lucky she was, was still to come.
"I hate the not knowing," she whispered, sometime later, after Josh
had held her through the worse part of it. "I don't know what
happened to Bonnie or Ginger or Margaret."
"Margaret went with Leo."
"She did?"
"Yeah. She's okay."
"We had so little time to prepare."
"I know."
"If we had more time..."
"There's never enough time," he sighed.
"Josh?"
"Yeah?"
"Do you think they're safe? Bonnie, Ginger, Kathy, Carol, the
rest of
them?"
"Yeah, I do. I honestly do."
"How can you be so sure?"
"Think about it, logically. You and I were the last to leave. The
other's had a good five minutes at least on us. We left by foot.
They
left by car. Naturally they got further away from the blasts than we
did."
"But we don't know exactly what areas were hit."
"It's an educated guess that the prime targets were the White
House
and Pentagon. They would have cleared those by the time the firing
started."
"Are you just saying that to make me feel better."
"No."
She was quiet for a while. Josh longed to know what she was thinking.
He was already worried about her. He felt a small shiver run through
her and moved to hitch her blanket up higher, tucking it under her
chin as if she was five years old.
"Josh?" her soft whisper broke through the darkness.
"Yeah?"
"Do you think Bill Heffernan's wife is dead?"
"I don't know, Donna," he sighed and closed his eyes at the
memory of
Bill Heffernan and the despair that was etched on his face.
"I can't imagine what he must be going through," she said.
I can thought Josh. The loss that man must have felt while
searching for his wife. The panic, the fear, the torment, the
insufferable pain that would have settled in his chest. Josh could
imagine those things - he had had a glimpse of those feelings during
the short time it had taken him to turn back from the helicopter and
go in search for Donna. He hoped, he prayed, that Bill's search would
end in the same overwhelming sense of relief as his own had. Truth
was, if he hadn't found Donna, Josh would most probably be standing
lost, alone, and nearly broken in the middle of the deserted streets
of Washington, just like Bill.
"I'm so lucky," Donna's voice rose out of the darkness once more.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. I've still got you," she whispered.
"Yeah," he smiled. "You've still got me. Now, get some sleep."
He pulled her further into his arms and stroked her hair. He
didn't
want to consider her questions - about the unknown fate of so many
others that were in their minds. He knew the tally of those that
didn't make it through this was going to be high, he just
couldn't
bring himself to wonder just how high. Leaning down slightly, he
gently kissed the top of Donna's head. In no time she was finally
asleep, leaving Josh wide awake in the unfamiliar surroundings.
Author's Notes:
Boy was this weak. Sorry guys it just didn't want to go where I
wanted it to go. I often wonder if the writer is the master or the
slave.
To those of you who have been sending such wonderful support in light
of the recent events in my town, thanks. I guess all your prayers
must have worked. The fire front got within four kilometers yesterday
and then a late change saved us. Today we are battling forty degree
(Celsius) heat and 65km per hour winds. So far, so good.