Sleepers

by Jacqueline Druga

  Nothing in particular made me wake up. I wasn’t dreaming, didn’t hear anything, feel anything. I just woke up. It took only a few seconds to realize I was in the back seat of our SUV and we were en route.

  As soon as I moved, my neck hurt. It felt as if not only did I have a stiff neck but also a sore throat. If I had an Adam’s apple, I would have sworn it was crushed.

  I sat up from the lying position and my groan must have caught the attention of Bill and Danny. Bill was driving and he peered only quickly over his shoulder then used the rearview mirror to communicate.

  “How are you feeling?” he asked.

  “Sore.” I smoothed my hand over my neck. “Thirsty. And I have to use the rest room.”

  “We’ll stop ahead, I saw a sign. Just a few miles. Can you hold on?” Bill asked.

  I nodded.

  Danny questioned. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  “Yeah,” I answered breathy, then noticed the clock above the radio. The digits indicated eleven in the morning. “How long have I been out?”

  “Hours,” Danny replied. “We knew you were fine, we just let you rest.”

  I peered again at the clock and noticed the radio was on. But nothing was playing. The digital display read ‘scanning’. I suppose they were hoping to catch something.

  It was then as I turned to look out the window that not only did I notice we were cruising along on the Pennsylvania Turnpike, but the reality of what had occurred struck me.

  Again, I grabbed my neck. Visions of my husband’s expression flashed through my mind, his eyes cold and showing no emotions. His fingers were strong yet he was still fevered; I could feel the heat on my skin. He strangled me and did so staring out as if I were a pane of glass he looked through.

  Then I remembered the gunshot.

  The gunshot caused him to release me and with that memory my insides churned and my heart thumped so hard I swore I felt it hit my stomach.

  “Who fired the gun?” I asked.

  Danny looked back. “Excuse me?”

  “Your father was killing me. Who fired the gun? Who shot him?”

  I was in the backseat, did they think I wouldn’t see the long exchange of a glance. Both of them looked at each other then returned to staring forward.

  “No one,” Danny answered. “No one shot Dad. We . . . I . . . fired a shot in the air and it startled him. He let you go.”

  Then Bill, almost nervously, continued the story. “And we put you in here and took off. They were uh, all coming toward us. You know.”

  I wanted to comment, ‘Liars’, but I didn’t. They were trying to protect me from the truth. Perhaps they didn’t think I could handle yet one more heartbreak. That little bit of sleep I received did me a lot of good. While the reality of what happened to Jeremy was still with me, the reality of the big picture was a bit clearer. I felt myself being more level-headed, rational. Yes, I was grieving and I would mourn my son and husband when I could, but I also had to keep moving.

  The world was different.

  I could see that as we rolled down the highway. There wasn’t a car on the road, at least none that I had seen. The spring trees resembled more like autumn and the sky was gray and overcast.

  The whole feel of life felt off-balance.

  I saw the ‘rest area 2 miles’ sign just before we passed a tractor trailer that was pulled off to the side of the road. The driver stood outside, just staring out with the same expression as Daniel and Jen. He watched us as we drove by him.

  I heard Danny ask Bill, “Do you think it will be safe?”

  “Yeah. Sure,” Bill replied, “I mean, we only saw a truck or two on the side of the road, right? And I don’t think many people went inside the Roy Rogers and took a nap. That’s when it hit.”

  “True.” Danny said.

  But I had to inquire. “What if they pulled over there and slept in their car.”

  “Then . . . then we’ll have problems. “ Bill said. “We’ll deal with it when we get there.”

  I leaned more toward the front seat. “You’re very brave.”

  Suddenly I must have become a comedian because Bill and Danny both burst into laughter.

  “What?” I asked. “What’s so funny?”

  “Brave.” Bill snorted a laugh. “I am so not brave.”

  I looked at Danny. “Why are you laughing? That’s rude.”

  “Sorry,” Danny swiped the smile from his face. “It’s just that, when you were sleeping he was saying how scared he was.”

  “I still think he’s brave. “ I sat back. “He saved my life. It took a lot of guts for him to shoot your father.”

  Danny looked back at me. “He didn’t . . .”

  “I saw.” My eyes shifted to the window, the quickly back to Bill and Danny to see reactions. Of course, I lied. I didn’t see anything. But I needed to know the truth and it was delivered not by their admittance, but rather Bill’s quick change of subject when he nervously announced. “Rest stop.”

  We pulled over.

  The illuminated ‘price per gallon’sign told us that the rest stop had power. It had been decided that we’d do what we needed to do inside the restrooms then fill up the tank and canisters with gas before hitting the road again.

  We hadn’t a clue what was ahead or how far we’d get for the day.

  There wasn’t a car in the parking lot. Yet the lights were on, the doors unlocked. The workers inside just up and left quickly; that was evident by the smell of burnt coffee when we stepped inside.

  Danny checked out the ladies’ room for me as I went into the gift shop and grabbed a travel toothbrush and toothpaste. My mouth felt gross and dry. He gave me an all clear and I went and took care of my business.

  Danny was on watch when I came out and I sought something for us to eat.

  Someone else had been there before us, maybe even several people.

  The snack rack outside the first food stand was wiped clean, along with all the prepared sandwiches. Food still remained on the tables in the restaurant; it was starting to get moldy and petrified. I supposed it had been sitting there for two days.

  Upon first glance, anything edible in plain sight was gone. But having been familiar with working in restaurants, I went into the kitchen and sought out the dry storage. I emptied the box of ketchup and loaded that box with as much as I could. I grabbed cereal, granola, some stuff in jars. No cans. I couldn’t remember if Daniel or I had grabbed a can opener when we were packing food and camping things for the trip to Seattle.

  Then again, Danny emptied some things from the car; he could have thrown some of that out.

  I didn’t know.

  I was out of it then and I wasn’t really registering anything that was going on.

  I did know that what I grabbed was short term, more so for the ride. Eventually we’d have to figure a way to get real food or none of us would have the strength, and then what good would we be?

  For a moment, a brief moment, I dismissed my dismal thoughts of survival and replaced them with, ‘oh, once we get further west I’m sure things will get better. We’ll find a restaurant . . .’

  But I thought like that for only a moment. How could I even conceive a better world out west when I stood in the middle of an empty, lifeless rest stop? Nothing on the television. No sounds. No people.

  “Mera, you all right?” Bill called for me.

  It startled me some and I jumped. “Yeah. Sorry.” Box in arms I stepped from the back kitchen area. “I was just getting some supplies.”

  “Good thinking,” he said. “I know there are boxes with food in the back of your truck, but you can never have enough. Here …” He handed me a Starbucks cup.

  I gave a curious look.

  “They had one of those Starbucks Kiosks, and I figured I’d make us all one. Danny said you loved your mochas with extra shots.”

  At that second, I believe it was the first time I smiled in days. “You made me a Starbucks? Thank you.”

  �
�Maybe the last we have for a while once power goes down everywhere.” He grabbed the box from me. “Enjoy.”

  I took a sip before I took a step. “This is very good.”

  “Geez, I hope so, I worked my way through college at Starbucks.” He gave a twitch of his head as a point. “Let’s go. Danny’s waiting and who knows how long it’ll be safe here.”

  I agreed with a nod and followed cradling that large cup between both of my hands. There was something about holding that cup that made me feel a little better. It wasn’t the taste, but more so that I got to hold on to a little bit of normalcy, a normal life that was slipping further away with each passing hour.

  11. First Contact

  The ‘fasten seatbelt’ bell chimed as Bill started the car. But no sooner did he close the door than it was joined by another sound, the odd, off-key beeping of the Emergency Broadcast System.

  A recorded electronic voice told us to ‘please standby for further instructions.’

  Then Bill acted as if he hit the lottery; well, maybe not that enthused. He clenched his fist, hit it against the steering wheel and blasted. “Yes. Yes. See.” He pointed at Danny. “Didn’t I tell you? I was right. See. Yes.”

  I was still in a ‘huh’ moment in the backseat when Danny calmly stated with a point. “Yes. You were,but maybe we should go.”

  I saw where he pointed. Across the large lot of the gas station was a parking area for trucks and a long line of slow moving truckers headed our way.

  “Might be a good idea.” Bill put the vehicle in gear and pulled from the pump, then the gas station. He didn’t do so with urgency.

  I watched the truck drivers. It was actually kind of funny; they were a good hundred feet away, yet as we drove out, they reached out their hands all at the same time like we were within grasp.

  A mile or so down the road, Bill still had a gloating tone. He played with the volume on the radio, perhaps thinking that would make the announcement come sooner.

  Danny murmured out a sarcastic, “You’re the man.”

  “What did I miss?” I asked. “I must have slept through a conversation.”

  Bill nodded. “Yeah, I told Danny that I saw this program on the History Channel and they said about thirty radio stations were chosen by FEMA to be operational in an all-out catastrophe, given generators and everything. Danny didn’t believe me.”

  “I didn’t say I didn’t believe you,” Danny replied. “I just didn’t think with it being the Rapture that there’d be any need for an Emergency Broadcast System.”

  “Why not?” Bill asked. “It’s an emergency. We had disasters. Death.”

  “Seriously?” Danny asked with a chuckle. “Bill, for real; think about this, dude, the whole purpose of the EBS is to help people survive, to know what to do. If God’s ending this world, there’s nothing you can do but hang with those you love and wait it out until your number is called.”

  “Wow, that’s really your attitude?” Bill asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “That sucks. I mean I expected more out of you. Mister . . .” Bill changed his voice to be more mocking, almost as if he were imitating Danny. “Grab the guns, be prepared, star military school pupil. People are basing this theory of ‘God’s End’ on what? The Bible? Well, you know what? I read the Bible and nowhere in there did I see a length of time for ending this world. I don’t know about you, but I’m not gonna just hang for years waiting for my number. I’ll survive, thank you very much.”

  I looked over to my son, watching his facial expression. His jaw went from left to right and he nodded slowly. “That’s a good point. Mom? What do you think?” I guess it was my son’s way of getting me to join the conversation while awaiting the EBS announcement.

  “Please don’t ask me,” I answered. “I’m still waiting on a logical explanation for all that happened.”

  The reflection of Bill’s eyes made contact with mine in that rearview mirror. “I know what you mean, Mera,” Bill said. “I’m waiting for one, too.”

  Quickly, Danny jolted a view to Bill. “Logical explanation? Isn’t God’s end a logical explanation?”

  “Not at all,” Bill answered without missing a beat. “It’s not God’s end.”

  “How can you be so sure?” Danny asked.

  “Simple.” Bill said. “I don’t believe in God.”

  Danny let out this offended ‘uh!’ and cocked back. “What?”

  Bill laughed.

  “Dude, did you like ever hear the old saying, ‘there are no atheists in foxholes’?”

  “There’s that military school coming out,” Bill commented.

  “No. It’s an old saying. Check this out.” Danny’s hands flew about as he spoke. “Two billion kids die at the same time. People disappear, disasters, people get this sickness that turns them into drones . . . there is no logical explanation except for God. This is the proverbial foxhole.”

  “Then I am the only atheist in it.” Bill shrugged.

  “But I heard you say, ‘oh my God’,” Danny said.

  “Yeah, well, I talked about Santa last Christmas, did that make him real?”

  Did my son think his rambling in offense would cause Bill to suddenly throw his hands in the air and suddenly proclaim, ‘I see the light, praise the Lord”?

  Then again, maybe in Danny’s mind he thought it would.

  Me, my mind went elsewhere. Bill didn’t believe in God? The revelation that Bill was actually a total stranger to me hit me right there when he revealed he was an atheist. Never would that have dawned on me. Then again, I was traveling across the country with a man I knew nothing about.

  “What did you do for a living, Bill?” I asked.

  “Mom?” Danny called my name with a hint of shock. “Where in the world is that coming from?”

  Bill blew slightly from his mouth and said, “Yeah, that’s like a total change of subject.”

  “Mom, you okay?” Danny questioned.

  What was it about the way Danny asked me that question? Sarcastic concern? I didn’t know, but I understood what he could be implying. “I’m not having a mental breakdown if that’s what you mean,” I said.

  Danny bobbed his head. “Well, it was out of the blue. We were talking about the end of the world, God.”

  “I know. It was,” I said. “Maybe subconsciously it was me trying to change the subject. It just hit me I didn’t really know Bill.”

  Bill crinkled his brow. “I lived across the street from you for three years. I went fishing almost every Sunday with your husband.”

  “You went fishing with Daniel?” I asked.

  “How did you not know this?”

  Danny shook his head. “Bill, if you don’t shoot out espresso, spit out quarters or have the name Jack across your head, she didn’t notice you.”

  “Huh?” Bill apparently was lost.

  “She drank coffee, bourbon, and gambled. Period.” Danny stated.

  “Oh, please,” I defended. “I did more.”

  Bill gazed over his shoulder. “Ok, so what did you do for a living?”

  I didn’t get to answer; the tone of the EBS occurred once more, only it was accompanied by a female voice.

  It put our car conversation on pause.

  Virginia Harrison introduced herself before delivering her speech over the airwaves. To me she needed no introduction, the Secretary of State and most powerful woman I knew in politics. Her broadcast was laced with intermittent static and blips but audible nonetheless. It was apparent she broadcast from somewhere remote.

  “Our heart and prayers go out to everyone who has been touched by this global crisis,” she said. “And it is a global crisis unparallel to any we have experienced in history.”

  She told of how we had her assurance that the president was safe and alive but at the time mourning for the loss of his daughter through the event and coping with the illness of his wife, inflicted by the sleeping sickness.

  They were pushing to maintain a strong hub of governm
ent which was vital to keep order.

  “Our top minds and scientists are struggling to figure out the cause of the events that have unfolded,’ she explained. “While many attribute these events to a higher power, our government, your government, cannot operate on that theory and must proceed accordingly to ensure continuity and survival and that we rise above the ashes. It is pure tragedy what has happened. We must forge forward but we must do so facing reality.”

  Then she spewed forth the reality.

  Natural disasters ripped across the globe in major areas exactly twelve hours after The Event that took the children. The Sleeping Sickness, as it was labeled, began twelve hours after that. Basically, everything happened within a twenty-four-hour period. Thus far nothing new had occurred. But those inflicted with the Sleeping Sickness were not predictable. Many showed signs of violence and seemed to be on some sort of automatic mode.

  According to Ms. Harrison, major metropolises were swarming with the infected and for that reason those who were well were advised to avoid the major cities and highly populated areas.

  All that could be done was being done to gather them and aid them; however the numbers coupled with reactions and violent tendencies of the infected was making for an impossible task.

  Cities were also in disarray. Not just from the infected but from the natural disasters. She stressed that if they occurred singularly, they would not have been considered such an ordeal, but since they all occurred simultaneously it put the world on a break, and once the pause button was released, chaos ensued with confusion.

  She assured that things would return to semi-normal, eventually. They were working hard. It was a daunting task that was bigger than they ever imagined.

  Military personnel were trickling back in, but their numbers were a mere skeleton of what they should be. The government was seeking volunteers to help.

  Martial law was in effect from 6 pm until 6 am; those caught traveling on the roads after six would be detained while those caught looting would be shot on sight.

  It was temporary but had to be done.

  She ended her transmission with telling us, “I’ll update when I have more information.”