Still

The rain was pouring down above us. The pitter patter of the drops hitting the bunker were calming yet annoying. “What are you thinking about?” Joe asked. I looked up with tears in my eyes. The world was falling apart. “How did we even end up here?” I cried. He tried to comfort me, but it was pointless. Here we were, hiding in an underground bunker while the world above us was in shambles.

We sat in silence for a while. “Did I ever tell you the story about how I met your mother?” he asked, grinning. I thought about it. I really never knew how they met, just that they had fallen in love suddenly. I was away at college so I was not worried about my mother and her romantic interests. After my father died I just wanted her to be happy. She found Joe and then was appointed Secretary of State. Right now she would be the President of the United States, but she was being held captive by rebel forces who wanted to overthrow the government. A race war had been ensuing for a few years. White republicans went to the extreme right and overthrew the government. They killed the President, Vice President, and Speaker of the House during a White House press conference. No one knew how organized they were and how their influence infiltrated all branches of government, the military, and millions of so-called Americans. There was war all around. The chaos was parallel to the Civil War. No one on either coast or region was safe. Neighbors turned on neighbors and whole cities burned to the ground. It was Armageddon.

Joe could sense that my mind wandered to the chaos that was above us. “Samantha, let me tell you the story. It’s romantic,” he laughed. “Fine Joe. Tell me the story, but it better be as good as the Notebook.” I settled into the beanbag chair, grabbed a blanket, and awaited this romance novella to unfold.

Bang! Bang! We both jumped up. Bang! Bang! Someone was trying to get into the bunker. We weren’t in the fancy bunker underneath the Pentagon anymore as the military knew about that one. Some forces of the military had been compromised so we were hiding in a private bunker in Connecticut. It was on a farm and owned by one of my old professors. His conspiracy theories were spot on and now we were reaping the benefits. “Grab your gun,” Joe commanded. Professor Williams came around the corner with his finger to his lip. He motioned for me to get behind him. I grabbed the gun from off the shelf and stood behind him. Joe was behind us. Bang! Bang! We heard yelling and feet pounding on the pavement above us. We stood still. Holding our breaths as we continued to hear banging noises above us. Then there was a loud crash. We hit the floor. What in the world was happening? “Be still,” Professor Williams mouthed to me. I nodded my head. “Jason, Jason,” someone above ground was yelling. Professor Williams jumped up and was about to open the hatch until Joe stopped him. “What are you doing?” Joe whispered. “That sounds like my brother. He knows I would hide here. He helped me build it,” Professor Williams stated and then opened the hatch.

It had been 44 days since I saw the sun. It beamed on me, blinding me as Joe took my hand to help me out of the bunker. I heard helicopters, gun fire, and smelled burning wood. As I tried to adjust to the sunlight someone scooped me up in their arms and began to run. I was discombobulated and being carried like a rag doll. We were ducking around trees and running like our lives were in danger. Wait! What was happening? Finally I was placed down on a log. “Are you ok?” the soldier asked me. “I don’t know, what’s going on?” I asked frantically. “The rebels are bombing this area. We have to evacuate now,” Professor Williams stated. I did not notice him and Joe behind us. We got in the back of a pick up truck and began to drive away from the flames and smoke. That bunker had been our home for over a month and now we were thrown into the thick of the war again.

“Is there any word on my mom’s location?” I asked the man who was Professor Williams’ brother. “No, Sam. They are keeping her location a secret of course. I’m Brian by the way,” he extended his hand. “Thanks, Brian,” I shook his hand. He smiled at me and pointed to the locket I was wearing around my neck. “What’s in there?” he asked. “I don’t know. It’s my mom’s. She told me to never open it as long as she was alive,” I touched it and closed my eyes. “She’s still alive,” Joe reassured me. “She is. They just released a video of her and the other hostages this morning,” Brian stated. “Can I see it?” I asked excitedly. He pulled out his phone and showed me. “How do you still have service?” Joe asked. “I’m using a military VPN. Since the rebels need it too, they won’t cut it off,” he replied. I watched the video in horror. My mom was tied to a chair and blindfolded. She was wearing an orange prison jumpsuit and her hair was in a messy bun. Her caramel skin was ashy and her cheek had a small cut on it. They were torturing my mother. I began to cry and Joe reached for me, but Brian grabbed me first. I laid on his chest and wailed like a baby.

I was unaware of where we were going and that everything around us was burned to the ground. I just cried for my mother and prayed for her safe return. The smell of smoke and burning flesh became unbearable. I tried to look around, but Brian held onto me tightly. “You don’t need to see this,” he whispered. I jerked away from him and couldn’t believe my eyes. “Are we in New York?” I asked as we passed piles of rubble and bodies. “What, what happened here?” Joe asked, sharing the same disbelief. The truck was slowing down and although it was dusk the light from the fires burning were bright. It was a beautiful, yet eerie sight. “Everyone out,” Brian commanded. I hesitantly stepped out of the truck, afraid that we would have been captured at any moment. “Believe it or not, we actually won this battle,” the soldier who carried me whispered solemnly.

The carnage was despicable. It was really a war zone. The sirens began to blare and someone on a loudspeaker declared that it was curfew. “Come this way,” the soldier directed us down the subway steps. We jumped the turnstile and walked down a long tunnel that would have been dark if not for the lights on their rifles. We were halfway down the tunnel when the soldier knocked on the wall four times in a weird rhythmic pattern. Knock, knock, pause, knock, knock! A door opened and we were again in an underground bunker, but this was definitely run by the military. There was high tech equipment and plenty of soldiers walking around. It was a scene out of a movie, I was in awe yet had so many questions. “Has this been here this whole time?” I asked the soldier who just laughed and walked away.

“Senator, I’m so glad you’re alive and well,” a soldier came to shake Joe’s hand. “I’m not sure about the well part, but I am alive. Who is running the country?” he asked. “No one. There isn’t a government or rules. We are seeking assistance from NATO and our allies but no one has come yet,” a Lieutenant informed us. “Oh no! What if a foreign power comes to take over?” Joe asked. “Well the one thing we have in common with the rebel forces is to not allow any outside governments in. The air and seas are heavily guarded,” the Lieutenant responded. “Not sure if I feel safe, but thanks for the update soldier,” Joe saluted. He had been a general in the Army and served several tours during the Iraq war. I know he felt right at home here, but there was a heaviness in my heart that I could not shake.

“We found them,” a soldier ran in, speaking frantically. Everyone gathered around a computer screen as she tried to explain how she was able to locate my mother and the other hostages. “Great job soldier,” Brian stated. They began to huddle to discuss rescue strategies. Apparently my mother and the other hostages were in a mansion in New Jersey that belonged to a wealthy lobbyist. It was heavily guarded and secluded. Stealth was definitely needed for this mission. A tactical team was formed and they left immediately to rescue them. We all sat on pins and needles for the next six hours wondering if they even made it to Jersey. “Here take this,” Brian handed me a pill. “What is this?” I asked. “It’s CBD. It will calm your nerves.” I swallowed the pill and tried to relax. There wouldn’t be any communication until they secured everyone. They could not risk the rebels listening to their channel. Cell towers, cable, internet were all guarded by the rebels and the American army. In order to control the masses and instill fear, they had to control the information. I clasped my fingers around the locket and said a prayer. I did not want to open it. I needed my mother home with me.

At the beginning of hour seven we heard static on the phone. We jumped up, anxiously awaiting the message that was trying to come through. There was inaudible static for sixteen minutes and then we finally heard, “We got them. We’re a few minutes away.” We all rejoiced, but I cried. My prayers had been answered. My mother, Madam President, was on her way to me safely. Wait! My mother was the President of whatever was left of the USA. Did this mean it was over? I guess Brian could sense my fear. He walked over and hugged me. “You still don’t remember me do you?” he asked. “You look familiar, but I don’t,” I responded sheepishly. “I used to work at the coffee shop on campus. I served you every Friday.” I stepped back and looked up at him. College was almost ten years ago, but I immediately recognized him. We hugged and I knew this was the beginning of something.

The soldiers and hostages started to come in. I frantically searched for my mother, but she was not amongst the others. Joe and I ran out of the tunnel only to find my mother kneeled on the ground. She was in tears. We both ran to her and hugged her. Sixty-three days of captivity and without seeing her seemed like a lifetime. She was frail and downtrodden. Joe held her and I rubbed her hand. We led her into the secret tunnel where she was met with a standing ovation.

“Madam President, you need to finish your oath,” a soldier quickly summoned her. We watched as she used a tattered Bible to pledge her allegiance to a broken country.

Once the fanfare died down and we were finally alone I gave her back the locket. “You can have this back now,” I whispered. “No, open it,” she motioned. I opened the locket and found a very small key and a piece of paper that read, “Your future” in the smallest print ever. “What is this?” I asked. “This key will bring the country back together and secure a future for my grandchildren,” she hugged me, and although I didn’t know what it meant. I was calmly assured that she would make everything better.