I'll Be Right Back

The traffic on the I-5 was all buggered up, like it always is. It was bumper to bumper and cars and obnoxiously big trucks were randomly nudging into lanes on the perception that maybe that particular lane might make progress. Heather was not deterred. She left a little early to pick up her husband at SEA-TAC airport and was anxious to see him. The AC was blowing full blast and ‘Bohemian Rhapsody’ was pounding out from her speakers. How could she not sing along?

It had been so hot, unseasonably hot, she was only wearing a bathing suit and an overshirt, which seemed appropriate for her dashboard drum solo. In the back of her mind, she thought her husband certainly would not mind her attire after his long trip away, but he is going to be miserable in this heat. As she sang, she thought the appearance of some gray in the sky was welcoming. Maybe there would be some rain or at least less direct sun. Maybe there would finally be some relief.

As the sky got darker, the smell of smoke and Sulphur became more apparent. Ash started to drift in the air like snowfall. Her heart sunk as the air became thick and dark around her and other vehicles became harder to see. Vehicles had begun to stall and cluster in the exit lanes. Then she noticed her own car begin to sputter.

She gathered herself as fear washed over her. People were getting out of their vehicle in droves. Quickly, she took inventory of what she had available. The flashlight, her husband's knife, a beach towel, some bottled water... “What else? Look! Look?” Randomly she started grabbing things, anything she could stuff in the beach bag.

Normally, the airport would be just fifteen or twenty minutes away, her home a forty-minute drive south, but she is going to be walking… with a horde. Her parents house!? Half-way home. It was still a terribly long ways by foot, in the heat, in the ash. What of her husband? Would his plane come in? would it crash? What about her kids? They had to be scared. She fumbled for her cell phone. Nothing! No signal.

She clutched the silver heart shaped locket that hung around her neck. Her family, she thought, nothing else mattered. Her husband would find a way. She needed to get home to her kids. With gloom in her heart, she stepped out, into the thick darkening void, only to find the void filled with voices and faces and panic. The crowd was pushing north and south, arms full or hand in hand, stumbling into one another; and the coughing.

Using her bottled water to wet the beach towel, she could wrap her face and cover up in the thick hot air. Pressing forward, pushing and straining against the tide of bodies, trying to breath and find a gap on the wandering horde. Zombies! she thought to herself, “We were all zombies, though obviously conscious of thought, but zombies in motion”.

How can she protect herself, the few things she had, and still push forward? Randomly she would check her phone. Still, no signal. Her body ached, whether from exhaustion, heat, or out of shear anxiety, she did not know. “How many people were stranded here? Certainly, tens of thousands. Hundreds of thousands?” She could not bare to think of it. She could not let anything, even her own logic keep her from getting home.

She pushed her way to the exit ramp and moved more efficiently on the side streets, hoping to find an escape from the crowd. After what seemed like hours and very little progress, Heather decided she needed to take shelter, somewhere she could breathe, somewhere away from the pandemonium… somewhere with a landline. She faltered to think, all of her kids and husband had cell phones. If the whole system was down, she would have not had any way to call. Wandering through parking lots she saw that most establishments had barred their doors and closed-up shop. “There had to be people inside. As quickly as it happened, surely, they were not able to escape.” She saw people using rocks and large objects to break into businesses. She thought for a moment, should she try that? That wasn’t who she was. No not ever!” But she knew she needed to escape the toxic air. How long could she expose herself before she just drops?

Finally, some shelter, a mall that had already been breached. Through the shards of glass, she walked in careful not to use up her flashlight. “What of these break-ins, the thefts, the people collapsing?” There were no police, no firefighters, no responders of any kind. “Of course not, how could they? Where would they go?” Everything was a crisis, everywhere!”

Once inside it was evident that the AC units were plugged up. The breaches gaped, with poisonous hot air infiltrating the expanse of the mall. Still, it was better than the open air outside, still dense with drifting ash.

She was just going out to pick up her husband. They were going to have this grand evening together, a romantic one. Now she was in a nightmare, gasping for fresh air and trying to find somewhere of perceptive safety to hold out. People broke into food venders and jewelry stores and then seemingly broke into anything and everything. There were no rules! There was no logic!

Several times, she had the tug of war with random people that tried to take her bag. Somehow, she managed to keep it. It occurred to her that she had always been annoyed that her husband kept that stupid boot knife in his glove box. She now held it like a torch in front of her.

“The sporting goods store was somewhere ahead”, she thought. “Maybe not everything of value had been taken.” She was dismayed to find the vast store, full of looters and the shelves nearly bare. It was too dangerous to try. Coughing more and her chest burning, she had to find somewhere to rest. She found relative solace in a small clothing store. She replaced the tarry saturated beach towel with other clothes from pilfered racks. She crawled behind the sales desk to a small closet, hopefully the looters will hit elsewhere and let her be.

Heather was surprised to wake in the morning. Patting herself down, she was surprised to wake at all. She still had her bag. She crawled out of the closet to see what became of the new day. The air was still dusty but not dense. There was power and the emergency lights were working. She had forgotten to try the phone. As she lifted the phone to her ear, she pleaded with god for a dial tone. There was!

There were still zombies roaming outside the store, coughing and wandering. She thought of the desperate plight, “Her dad! He was the only person she could think of that had a landline. It was ringing! She tried to hide her excitement from anyone that might see. She knelt to the floor behind the sales desk to avoid attention.

Her father answered. Her heart leaped with a hope she was afraid to have. She managed to say, “hi Dad!” Before she could say anything else, he started to tell her how crazy his night was, how they had to fend of their house once and how sick he felt from the ash. She got enough from his ranting to gather that there was a volcano eruption, which she had already assumed, and that there was complete chaos, which she already knew. When she could finally break into his conversation, she asked if he knew anything about the kids.

He told her that the kids managed to get to a phone and call, but they were asking about her. It then occurred to him to ask where was she? She told him of her plight and that she was in a mall but not exactly sure where. Heather said she did not know where her husband was and asked if he had called. Sadly, he explained that the airport was in disarray, that several flights were reported missing, several others had definitely crashed. The news was not good, but they had not heard for sure. He told her to have hope, that surely, her husband was alive, and he would find his way home.

She took courage with his words, then relented that she needed help. Aware of her own situation. The air was still toxic, she dreaded the thought of going into the open air again, into the streets. Even if her dad had a car that would start it wouldn’t last long and the streets were jammed with abandoned vehicles. Her dad could do nothing, and he shouldn’t try; just maybe relay her plea for help. While she stumbled for the next thing to say, with nothing rational to say, the phone line went dead.

She clicked and clicked again, still dead air. She stammered in fear and with unquenchable hurt at the loss of the phone. Dumbfounded by her situation and catatonic with fear, she just sat. As she soaked in her despair, it occurred to her. “What kind of miracle that she was able to call at all. Maybe somehow, he’ll find help. If anyone could, it would be him.

She took her time gathering herself. Still dreading the foreboding outside. Again, she took inventory of her bag and her health, trying to gather enough strength to force herself up. Moving was painful and her lungs wheezed as she tried to force air through her dry ashen throat. She was going to make it. She had to.

She stumbled and her legs ached, even trembled, as she left the safety of the dress shop. Her face covered with the cutest dress she could find, in just her colors. She swore to herself she would come back and pay the owner whatever she could.

There was echoed coughing here and there. It was haunting to walk through the dust cloud, with death on every side, and only a hazy view of whatever was out there. What she could see, there were bodies lying throughout the mall, everywhere she looked. Some of the forms appeared to be alive, some were surely not. How could she possibly make it? While she tried to take courage, she also felt the weight of doom. She retreated back to the dress shop, back to the closet, and closed her eyes.

Nestled into her relative safety, she thought, at least her kids and her parents were okay. Or at least, they were okay for now. As she slipped into unconsciousness, she did not expect to wake again.

It could have been minutes; it could have been hours; when she was shaken and brought out of a cloudy and confusing state. “We have one, she’s breathing!” She was pulled from the closet and hoisted onto the something, and some people who looked like Soldiers in full combat gear and breathing apparatus, scurried her through the darkness. Air! There was air to breathe, the cup on her face was unpleasant but she sucked at the oxygen with all that she could muster.

When she realized she was being helped not hurried to her death, she cried. Her tears welled up and the corners of her eyes and tumbled down her dusty face. An unknown soldier wiped away one of her tears and embraced her shoulder with the comforting grip of his gentle hand. “You’re gonna make it! You got that? You’re gonna make it!” Her tears poured out as she dared to hope to see her family again, and maybe, just maybe, if she could make it, so could her husband. She pondered and smiled a little.

With that she closed her eyes again and felt the deepest gratitude she had ever remembered feeling, just to have hope.