Departure

The horns blew and everyone’s world froze. Billie watched as the coffee he had been delicately holding by the rim seemed to fall in slow motion before exploding all over the kiosk table and the white uniform he had pressed the night before as second transportation security officer. Numb to the heat, which was quickly soaking it’s way into his skin, he turned to look at the horn mounted on the 30 foot steel pipe near the exit. Like everyone of his generation, he had been taught since he was an infant what to do when the horns blew as they were now all across the city. But like cpr, stop drop and roll it is easy in the shock of the event itself to forget everything that matters for a split moment and so he looked down at his shirt then at the train platform before him.

The 67 passengers with their backpacks and suitcases, disembarking and embarking, jostling along the striped lines on the ground as they traded places, whether they were getting off the two car diesel engine or getting on the nonstop from Albuquerque to Denver. They, like Billie, had frozen for a moment in shock but were quicker to recover. It was a unanimous decision by the crowd that that train was their holy ark only salvation and that anyone who was not you was trying to take your rightful place. Striking, pushing, climbing over each other they moved as a mass towards their perceived salvation.

To the two employees on the trains, the conductor and the ticket taker, the matter was similarly decided without discussion or planning. They shut the doors, each slamming the emergency levers that would lockdown the train. The doors began closing causing those on the other side to press and trample over each other with renewed desperation. The press of people prevented the doors from shutting sliding into people as they climbed through the chokepoint. Those within reacted without pity, punching and pushing the passengers trying to get in away from the doors until they were firmly shut. Leaving the majority of the passengers to decide whether to chase the train or find another refuge before the coming storm.

Billie watched as the train started pulling forward and thought about how the train was supposed to be resistant to the coming storm. Unbeknown to him and the people on the train but written in small print at the bottom of each ticket was that it was resistant and safe under certain circumstances. Those circumstances being zone three, the very edge of a storm experiencing glancing stroms for a short period of time. Which is why the track ran beneath at least 23 feet of earth and concrete for 387 of it’s 462 miles.

The three other members of Billie's security team were running to the nearest safety zone on the north end of the platform, knowingly or unknowingly leading many passengers left on the platform. The horns continued blasting. By the time the security team reached the gate they had been overtaken by three of the fastest passengers while another dozen ran head first through the now overwhelmed guards who were trampled under foot. Billie looked on as some of the other passengers struggled with the dilemma of chasing the now moving train or running to the safety zone and thought to himself “who is going to close the gate?” The three had been completely lost in the crowd. For a moment he thought of sprinting over there and closing the gate when a man, nearly bald, fell sprawling in front of him when another would-be passenger decided to give up on the train and make for the bunker.

The compulsion felt instinctual and any thought of the gate was gone. Rushing forward to hoist the man up Billie caught the man’s scent as they stood upright. The scent of the older man wafted up in the musky unwashed way that makes you want to breathe through your mouth and contrasted with his brown suit. Billie, now having been pulled from the sidelines considered the mayhem at the other gate and turned his back leading the man at a hobble. Despite still not having caught his breath the old man questioned his rescuer. The horns were still blowing forcing him to yell. With panting breaths Billie impatiently explained they were going to the southern safety zone. The yells and panic frenzy continued, receding into the background with each step as Billie pulled the old man along.

The yellow arrows painted on the concrete leading to each of the two zones were all but ignored in the mad dash of those on the platform. They were ignored as the Northern Safety zone was directly on the platform and shared with the bus station adjoining the train station, just past the rows of ticket kiosks making it obvious. Where Billie led his charge was past the cinder block bathroom with it’s rusted green roof and around the corner leading to the street. This safety zone had been shared with the two story shopping arcade that had closed down the year previous leaving clear now.

As they neared the darkened concrete ramp a car horn from the street pulled the older man’s attention who in turn pulled Billie to a pause. The guilty sedan was already half a block down second street, but there, rushing off the street, a lanky man carrying a skateboard in one hand looked from one building to another, unsure. Vincent called out as his companion waved the boy to them. To safety. As they did so the sky cracked, rumbling as black clouds could be seen forming an enormous ring past the roofs of the buildings. Lightning shot out from one cloud to another, pillars of the dense black clouds shot out like tentacles knitting and pulling the clouds together to the chorus of explosive thunder erupting from all directions at once.

Billie lost his grip on the old man when they broke into a run down the ramp. The world flashed as hundreds of lightning strikes struck the city all at once before the clouds erupted and rained glass shards down upon the earth.

Passing the gate Vince collided with the wall nearest the key terminal and searched his pockets, pushing past the pocket knife for the cylindrical key. Driving the key into the wall, red emergency lights flashed along the floor contrasting with the blackening world outside. Hesitating with his hand on the key the teenager was sprinting down the ramp using his skateboard over his head. The old man had slumped to the ground watching as the boy passed the threshold at a full sprint. Vince turned the key triggering a series of mechanical reactions within the walls.

From either side of the tunnel heavy lead doors slid towards each other slamming shut with a thud and isolating the three figures from the chaos without. Closed, the key was pulled into the wall and the fluorescent over lights flashed on revealing that the tunnel opened up to a 50x50 white washed room filled with rows of metal benches, a green water cistern and in a corner a orange plastic sheet whose black drawing betrayed it to be a toilet.

To Billie “Help me.” and turning back to the teen “Stay still.'' The old man spoke to each in turn as he rushed to the boy who had squatted down pulling his hoodie off, the glass embedded within falling heavily to the floor.

“Don’t move. Don’t touch anything. Just let us.” Billie pulled his flashlight from the belt as the old man wrapped his hand in his coat.

“Just let us. I’m Thomas.`` The old man carefully used his jacket to part the boy's hair looking for glass. “What’s your name son?”

“Tony… do you see anything? I don’t want to... Did it cut me?” Tony spoke quickly as he tried to control his breathing.

Together Thomas and Billie inspected his scalp and neck, his arms and hands sighing in relief when they looked over his pitted and slashed trainers.

“You are really damned lucky.” Billie said as the corners of his mouth threatened to pull into a smile as he sighed.

“Very. “ Thomas threw his coat into a corner and pulled a gold shaped locket out from under his shirt, kissing the golden heart before dropping back within the folds.

Billie slid the heavy metal flashlight back into his belt next to the plastoid nightstick. “We are all pretty lucky. One scratch could have had us all.” Bille stretched his arms up and arched his back in relief.

“Even breathing in a tiny shard.” Thomas spoke as he nodded in agreement.

Tony sat on the nearest bench looking between them smoothing out the wisps of hair trying to grow into a goatee over his pimples.

Billie starts towards the back but circles back his eyes on the ceiling above them, thinking of the storm and chaos above before settling his gaze on Thomas. “ What do you mean?”

“Oh, just thinking back to LA. The building we were in. Somebody reacted weeks after it cleared. Nobody knew why it happened at the time. But they locked down the whole complex. “ Thomas’s eyes tightened as Thomas spoke while standing up again. “I was away on business when they sent them away. ``

Billie's eyes look between them. “CPS took them?”

“200 apartments. My brother warned me or else they’d have tracked me down. Eventually I heard it was a friend of my daughter’s. A tiny shard. No one knew. It festered in the lung and he reacted.”

Tony’s jaw hung open as he listened. “But I didn't, I don’t feel anything.”

“Breath easily boy.” Billie spoke softly. “Thomas, surely it doesn’t happen often. But I we do report any difficulty breathing.”

“Aye. He is breathing fine. One in 10,000. No chance. “

“No chance.” Billie looked again at Tony. “Almost no chance.”

“Almost.” Thomas was staring at Tony

“But. But if he.” Billie said

“I kept my head down. I’m fine” Tony said, his hands grasping the bench.

“ If he did, we are in here with him.” Thomas swallowed hard as his eyes refused to meet either of the other two.

“And there would be nothing we could do.” Billie was pointedly looking at Thomas who glanced towards Tony's shoes. “If he reacts even six months from now. “

“That door only opens when the cleaning crews have gone through and we’ll be registered. Too late.”

Tony pushed off from the bench but his foot tangled with Thomas’s and they both struggled for a moment to keep their balance and Billie stepped forward taking the slender boy by the shoulders and pulled him back. The boy fell and fell hard onto his back, knocking his head on the hard cement.

When Billie looked back to Thomas he had recovered and stood staring. Billie glanced back and saw the boy stirring and looked again to thomas. What he saw in his eyes reflected his own heart. With a grimace Billie looked away, back towards the gate. Tony was rising to his elbows.

“It was an accident.” Thomas said

“It could be.” Billie whispered

Eyes wide and moist, Thomas fell to his knees pressing down with his weight. Billie stood there, fingers clenching and releasing before falling down to his knees as well.

“Shhh. Don't move. You’ll hurt yourself.” Billie spoke quickly, not pausing to think.

Thomas' eyes screwed up and watery started getting off. “He might be fine.”

“But if not they’ll take us all. We will go home. ” Billie gripped the boy’s crown in one hand as he pulled the heavy metal maglite from his belt gripping near the solid base. “The storm will be over soon now.” Thomas lifted to one knee looking at Billie then to the boy and nodded. Billie nodded back, the flashlight poised overhead.