Duck and Cover

         "This is a test of the Emergency Broadcast System. The broadcasters of your area in voluntary cooperation with the FCC and other Allegiances have developed this system to keep you informed in the event of an emergency."

         “This is a test. For the next sixty seconds, this station will conduct a test of the Emergency Broadcast System. This is only a test."

         "If this had been an actual emergency, you would have been instructed to tune into one of the broadcast stations in your area."

Trust me, all of that is smoke and mirrors. It’s all an illusion of safety we’ve cooked up to make ourselves feel safe from danger. Think about it, folks. Seat belts on an airplane? Really? Are they really going to keep you that safe when your pilot loses control and sends you and the rest of the Boeing 727 hurtling at 600mph into the side of Mount St. Helen's? Kiss your ass goodbye. Is that tiny and outdated fire extinguisher perched in the corner of your apartment hallway really going to put out the fire from your neighbor's mattress going up in flames because she likes to smoke in bed? Not likely. When the bomb drops, the bomb drops. When the lone gunman opens fire on the grassy knoll, there’s no time for the Emergency Broadcast System to warn the neighborhood. The shots ring out loud and clear. Martha is polishing the brass on the Titanic, but it’s all going down.

Trust me, the flash of bright light will be plenty of warning. Although I don’t think it’s a warning if it’s already too late. 

I woke up in the same position I had fallen asleep in. Sawyer was curled up in my lap. I could feel the rhythm of his heartbeat in my leg and his warm breath tickled on ankle. I heard a loud breath exhaled, but it wasn’t Sawyer and I knew it wasn’t mine. I slowly turned my neck to peer out over the countertop. My eyes suddenly bulged from their sockets. Abbey was sitting on the couch. I practically threw Sawyer out of my lap as I pulled myself to my feet and, wobbly, walked over to her. When I came round to face Abbey, I stopped in my tracks. She looked up at me and I tried with all of my strength to look at her, but I couldn’t believe she was sitting in front of me. It looked like I was looking at Abbey, but it wasn’t Abbey. Her long, brunette hair was burnt to a crisp and stained black with soot and ash. Her once sun-kissed skin was raw and red. Up and down her arms, pieces of her flesh were completely missing. Her eyes didn’t sparkle in the sunlight like they used to. They felt hollow and sad. I stood in my tracks, unable to process anything.

Abbey stood up and walked toward me. She brushed her hand against my cheek and gently pushed away my hair from my forehead contusion. I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. My throat was dry and scratchy. Abbey lowered her hand and gently pulled on my fingers, the way she had done a million times before. My heart fluttered like it had on our first date. She leaned into me and kissed my dry, chapped lips.

“What happened?” I asked breathlessly.

I could still faintly breathe in the smell of her perfume.

Abbey finally spoke, “Everything is going to be okay. We’re going to make it. I promise.” 
She pulled my body into hers as she wrapped her arms around me. 
"Don't let me go." She whispered into my ear.
"Never." I whispered back.