The Draft

flashbacks

 

Chapter 2

 

            The children’s laughter continued to drift up from the Quad and Nancy stood, pulling her blanket with her as she moved to the window. The playground was located on the far side of the massive room below and she smiled as she watched them playing tag, racing over and under the slide, shrieking happily.

            “Do you hear that, little one? Soon you’ll be with them, outrunning all the boys, and I’ll be standing up here watching you play.” She stroked her belly and winced as her kidneys received a firm response. “And a good thing too. Much more of this and I’ll be black and blue all over.” 

She shifted her weight and reached behind her for the rocking chair. Sighing, she settled in with her journal. She had started writing three months ago, on her birthday, because her psychiatrist was concerned about her depression. Suprisingly, it had helped. 

Sometime later, the Quad chimes woke her from a doze and she jumped, the book falling from her belly to the floor. 

“Well, dinnertime I guess. God, I wish they’d think of a quieter way of announcing it.” Heart still pounding, she struggled to her feet and went to wash her hands.

            The cafeteria was loud and always overwhelming. Nancy quickly found her friend, Quenby, and they headed to a table by a window. Quenby was nineteen and probably the most energetic person Nancy had ever met. She was short (shorter even than Nancy’s own five feet) and had dark, curly hair and black eyes. Her smile was fantastic and huge and Nancy sometimes found it hard to remember a time when she hadn’t known Quenby. She was a psychology major from Washington State and spoke often, with a wistful smile, of the mountains surrounding her hometown.

          David and Patricia soon joined them. Patricia was Jamaican and had married an American to become a citizen. She was every bit as wild as her fiery red weave. After work, Nancy and Quenby would stop by her room and she would regale them with hilarious stories from her childhood. She was tough and, even though she missed her family, she looked forward to starting a new life in the colony. Her job placement in the greenhouses suited her and it was there that she met David. Pretty soon the four of them were inseparable.

          Predictably, the conversation tonight centered on the disco coming up next week. Psychiatrists were becoming concerned that, given the amount of time they had been living in the colony, the people weren’t interacting with one another outside of their jobs. Lately, social events had been held to get the colonists socializing more often. Next week, a disco party was being held, complete with provided costumes and disco ball. It had been announced over the intercom system while Quenby and Nancy were having breakfast about a week ago; the hum of voices in the cafeteria pausing briefly to be replaced with excited murmurs.

          “I don’t know about you guys, but I’m so bored I’m going crazy! I can’t wait!” Quenby’s gestured excitedly with her fork. By habit, Nancy took it away from her and laid it on her plate before she stabbed someone accidentally. Quenby grinned. “Ha Ha! Thanks Nancy.”

          Patricia snorted.

          “Let me tell ya, this ain’t gonna be nutin’ compared to the parties we used to t’row down ‘n Jamaica!”

          David rolled his eyes behind Patricia’s back and Nancy stifled a laugh. According to Patricia, nothing was ever as good as Jamaica. 

          “Man, those were sum crazy parties…” Patricia raised her eyebrows for emphasis.

          “Disco… that is going to be a trip,” David grinned as he changed the subject. David had grown up the privileged younger son of a doctor in Asheville, North Carolina. He was extremely well read, smart, and hysterical. Tall, but well proportioned, he wore glasses and had a smile that was completely contagious. He was working in the greenhouse laboratories, experimenting with growth methods for different seeds that had been imported from seed banks in Antarctica before the colony was filled. 

          “David and I are headin’ over there tomorrow to check out the outfits. You guys wanna to meet us there?” Patricia asked.

          Nancy murmured something affirmative and shifted in her chair. Her back had begun to ache and she glanced distractedly down into the Quad. Occasionally, when the military was drilling, she had caught glimpses of the solider who had been kind to her that first day, but he never glanced up. A bell sounded, breaking Nancy’s concentration, and the group began collecting their things to leave. The bell meant that the lights would be turned out in one hour, barely leaving the cafeteria staff time to clean up from dinner. The four of them parted in the hall outside, making plans to meet for breakfast.

          When she got back to her room, she glanced at the clock and decided to take a quick hot bath. As she sank back into the water, her mind drifted involuntarily to Christopher. 

They had met five years ago in college; he was a grad student assigned to teach her freshman English class. He had the sexiest smile and seemed totally oblivious that half the girls in the class barely took notes during his lectures. A year later, she declared English as her major and finally caught his eye as more than a student. Their first date had been an on-campus poetry reading and her friends didn’t understand why she considered this romantic. They were married after her graduation, two years later, in a little town untouched by the troubles of the world. Their honeymoon was spent at a cabin in the mountains and on their way home they turned on the radio and found out that three of the world’s oldest and greatest cities had been destroyed.

 

~          ~            ~

 

It had begun in 2028. After a long and costly seven-year war with various Middle Eastern countries, the citizens of the United States elected Elaine Jefferson as President. A Senator from New Hampshire, Jefferson promised to pull troops out of Iraq, boost America’s economy, and drastically decrease the nation’s debt, which had ski-rocketed during the war. Within six months, all troops were called home and the fragile, newborn governments of the Middle East collapsed. Civil war and bloodshed ensued. 

Over the next five years, the terrorist faction known as the Taliban, held in check during America’s contribution to the war, spread and grew in power until suddenly, overnight it seemed to a selfish America, the Taliban controlled nearly everything in Iraq, Iran, Pakistan, and Turkey. As their power spread, the nations of the world became gradually uneasy and President Jefferson entertained leaders from Great Britain, France, and Australia with increasing regularity. Peace agreements were signed between America, Australia, Russia, and most of Europe; these countries became known as The Allies, adopting their name from the last world war, all the while hoping that history wasn’t repeating itself. The Taliban retaliated by joining forces with Korea, Vietnam, Japan, and much of Africa. Tension and hatred were rampant and in May of 2035, Paris, London, and Rome were destroyed by nuclear weapons.

After the bombing, the American government realized that a nuclear world war would render Earth uninhabitable, at the very least. Homeland Security began construction on a vast, underground colony that could house three thousand of America’s citizens. The colony was completely sheathed in metal that could withstand incredible pressure from all sides. Areas for growing food were constructed and thousands of different types of seeds were brought from seed vaults in Antarctica. A generator that would produce power for fifteen hours and then recharge for nine hours was installed in each colony to give the impression of day and night and, in order to keep the three thousand colonists alive, oxygen-producing units were built. The government told no one and prayed they would never have to.

By the time colony was completed, however, nuclear fallout was having devastating effects on the planet and it’s inhabitants. It became evident that the colonies and the colonial draft would have to take place immediately. President Arthur Pope, elected in hopes of saving the country after Elaine Jefferson’s disastrous consecutive terms, gave a broadcast telling the American citizens of the situation and the draft, which took place next. First, the names of the President and Vice President were called out and one name drawn – that one person and their family would lead the colony through the difficult time to come. To avoid riots and attempted assassination, the chosen leader, Vice President Theodore Waldrop was taken immediately into the colony. 

Next came the drafts. Everyone over eighteen was considered an adult and listed separately from their parents. Children under the age of eighteen were listed with their parents and would be allowed to enter the colony only if one of the parents were to be drafted. Those over fifty, with a physical or mental handicap of any sort, or with a criminal record were not even considered. 

First announced were doctors, nurses, and psychologists – fifty people, along with their young children went into the colony. Next—military personnel. Five hundred Army, Navy, and Marine troops were admitted. None of their families. Next were the educators and historians, those who could preserve the “old” way of life, as it was now called. One hundred of these people, with their children, were admitted. All this time the rest of America had sat with bated breath, silent and still in shock, waiting and praying for their names to be called. 

Nancy could remember every second of those agonizing hours when the President had begun at A and listed the remaining two thousand, three hundred and forty-six citizens that would be admitted. She could remember the thick, warm smell of her father’s cigar, hovering in the air as if too was waiting for death—or life. She could remember the sound of ten-year-old Cory playing Xbox VR in his bedroom, oblivious to the terror gripping the country. She could remember the exact sound of the president’s voice as he read from his list: “275-92-8290 -- Nancy Wilson Doyle -– 23 years of age”. She could remember Christopher’s hand tightening around hers.

          She could remember the overwhelming happiness flooding through her ‘She and her child were going to live!’. And the immediate horror following as she realized that her husband and family were not. She could remember her mother’s trembling hands holding back Nancy’s hair as she vomited and sobbed. There was no time for proper goodbyes. Nancy had packed everything in a daze: pictures of Christopher and her family, several empty notebooks and wooden pencils, clothes for herself and her coming baby, a calendar, and finally she packed a world history book. A heavy, musty old thing that had sat in her father’s study for years, overlooked and neglected, used then as a doorstop or coaster, it now seemed to be her most prized possession. 

 

~            ~            ~

 

          The alarm sounded reminding her that the lights would go out in fifteen minutes and she eased herself out of the bath. She dried herself distractedly, her mind still clinging to memories, but the demands of a baby soon brought her back to the present.

          “God! That was a big one!” Nancy grimaced as a particularly hard kick was directed at her liver. She combed the tangles out of her brown hair and frowned critically into the still foggy mirror. Her face was oval and framed by her chin length hair, which tended to curl under at the ends. Her eyes were brown, as well, and deeply expressive. Her lips were full and slightly heart shaped, framing a set of white, if not completely straight teeth. Acceptable. Sweeping her bangs out of her eyes, she turned a little to the side and frowned again. Thanks to her father’s lineage, she had inherited his large, Italian nose; she hated it. 

          The five-minute bell sounded and she sighed, leaving the bathroom and heading to bed.   Touching the pictures of her parents and Chris, she settled into bed. There was a distant, high-pitched whine, as if someone had turned on a television but muted the sound, and then the power switched off.   

          When she was a child, Nancy had visited some caverns with her family and the tour guide had turned off the flashlight to show them what absolute darkness was like. She had tried to wave her hand in front of her face, but had seen nothing. The darkness of the powerless colony was absolute. Nancy took a deep breath and just as she felt a trickle of fear, the auxiliary power kicked on and the nightlight beside the bathroom cast shadows on the walls. She let out her breath. As she began to slowly relax, her mind continued sifting through memories.

 

~            ~            ~

 

After the draft, the government’s orders had been to report to the colony with all the proper identification and one suitcase. A government vehicle would pick her up at seven o’clock in the morning to take her to the airport. 

For dinner than night, Nancy’s mother had cooked her favorite meal. Back at home, she and Christopher had taken a bubble bath and made love on the bathroom floor with an urgency that surprised them both. Later, some time in the middle of the night, he had taken her slowly and gently, silently weeping into her hair. Nancy laid for a long time watching him sleep, unable to comprehend the idea of never seeing him again. The next morning, they drove to the park and Nancy watched the sun rise for the last time. 

Back at home, her parents came to see her off. Nancy had hugged Cory and tilted his chin so he could see her. She signed that she loved him and always would and then she wrinkled his brown hair as he ran off to play again. The camouflaged hummer arrived and she had broken down, sobbing and trembling in her parent’s arms as the driver waited sympathetically. Finally, her father had kissed her forehead and led her to Christopher, who put his arms around her shoulders.

          “Goodbye, Pumpkin.” Her father turned and walked into the house. Christopher had looked at her and his chin had begun to tremble.

          “Nancy, I love you so damn much. Thank you for every single second you gave me.”

          Tears had blurred Nancy’s vision and she blinked fiercely, determined not to miss her last moment with her husband. 

         “I love you, too, Chris. I won’t forget us. Never.”

         “Never.” He repeated. “But, Nancy, if you do meet someone . . .” His voice choked and he squeezed her shoulders. “I would want you to be happy. That’s all.”    

He hugged her, hard, and for a moment they didn’t speak. Finally, he straightened, took a deep breath, and looked into her eyes.  

“Take care of you, you hear me? Do whatever you have to do to keep our baby safe.”

“I will, Chris, I promise.” Nancy had drawn a shaky breath, slightly more calm. Squeezing his hand with all her strength, she had turned and climbed into hummer.

Two flights later, she boarded a military transport truck that had been waiting for her and twenty-seven others when they arrived at McCarran International in Las Vegas, Nevada.  Ironic that she when she finally got to go to Vegas it was by military escort on her way into exile. 

Nancy remembered one of the other women on the truck was a mother, silent tears pouring down her cheeks as she clutched her two small children.

“Where’s Daddy? Why can’t Daddy come?” They kept asking. 

Another had been a young girl barely over eighteen who shook uncontrollably the entire four-hour drive but never said a word. The soldier driving the truck had his two small children with him and Nancy remembered that he hadn’t been wearing a wedding ring. She wondered if he was going to be allowed to enter the colony or if he was one of the Others. One of those condemned to the dying surface of the planet.

They passed through six military checkpoints; at each, the passengers were unloaded and searched along with the vehicles. At the first of these checkpoints Nancy had glanced back and realized that their truck was only one of many in a convoy—all headed to the same place—all with the same precious cargo. The fences surrounding the military stations were bulging with mobs of people. Their desperate cries were overwhelming and many had their children on their shoulders, trying to lift them over the barbed wire coils. Soldiers with loaded rifles yelled and pushed them back. Nancy had wrapped her arms around her still-flat belly in reflex and for a moment her eyes met those of a woman on the other side of the fence. 

The woman was clutching a baby to her breast, wisps of curly brown hair hanging limply around her tear-streaked face. Desperation screamed from the woman’s eyes and, for the first time since the Draft, Nancy was glad to have been chosen. In that terrible instant, she grew up.

The convoy pressed on and by the time they reached the second station, the cries had faded. Glimpses of the landscape through the flapping canvas showed a barren desert, miles and miles of desert. The passengers lost track of time, the hours broken only by the military checkpoints. The heat under the truck canvas was gradually increasing and Nancy thought she could probably count the seconds by the drops of sweat rolling down her face. She needed to eat and she groaned, shoving a fist against her mouth as the truck hit a rut in the road.

“What’s that? Do you hear that?” The man next to her sat up and looked around, pulling the canvas back for a moment. 

           Nancy could hear it then: a humming sound, steadily growing louder. The truck shuddered to a stop and the man beside her leaned forward and pushed back the canvas again. This time, Nancy sat up and squinted against the harsh Nevada sun, peering out from behind the man. They had reached the colony.

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[TLK]

"The alarm sounded reminding her that the lights would go out in fifteen minutes and she eased herself out of the bath."

This is a sentence that clearly needs revision.