All That Remains

Chapter Nine

When the crowd had filled the room from corner to corner, a marine said, "Cover your ears." Then, he held up his gun, aimed for the wall, and fired. Bap, bap, bap, bap, bap! He blew a small hole in the hallow wall. "Everyone toward the center of the room!" he commanded, and everyone did so as best the could. Jacob was standing near the edge and caught a glimpse of the marine as he inserted his hand and pulled down--what seemed to be--a lever.

The concrete floor vibrated, dropped several centimeters, and slowed to a steady, downward pace.

...

"Then what happened?" the counselor said intriguingly.

"The sinking floor took about ... I don't know... ten to fifteen minutes," replied Jacob. "But after that, me and Mom were separated from the others. We were taken to a small room where a woman in a uniform told us to change into these weird outfits she gave us.

"What happened after that?" he asked as he wrote every detail down.

"We waited for hours before we were called into this massive auditorium. There were many rows of filled chairs. I think we were the last ones in." Jacob sighed and said, "It's strange. These dreams don't feel like dreams; they feel like ... they're real."

"Like they're memories," the counselor added.

"Yeah. Memories. Anyway, the president--a different president--gave a long speech about how we were hope for mankind, that after the war we would rebuild, and become a better world."

"Now how could he have possibly known that would happen. What if the Russians won?" the counselor said as if it had actually occurred. 

"If anything, I guess he was confident in their plan: our country and allies would win and rebuild."

"But it will happen!" he suddenly exclaimed.

"Wait ... what?" he said, confused. 

"Sorry. I got a little carried away," he said returning to his chair. After composing himself, he said, "Tell me more."

...

"God bless this operation. God bless you all. God bless America!"

The crowd stood up from their chairs and clapped and cheered. Jacob looked from side to side and spotted a few people crying. He looked to the seat next to him and saw a girl, around his age, leaned over and crying into her hands.

"What's wrong?" he asked sympathetically.

"We're going to die," she sobbed.

"There's a small chance of that. I'm sure the people working here made the freezing machines as best as they could. You will live."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

Martha turned to her son and said, "Come on, Jacob. It's time to go."

"I'll see you soon, or maybe in a few years," he said to the girl, smiling.

"Same here, Jacob. That's a nice name. I'm Leah," she said, blushing and no longer crying. "Good-bye."

The crowd began to subside, but getting out of the room would take a while. "Return to your rooms!" a man shouted through a bull horn. "In two hours, you will be assigned your cryogenic tubes. Return to your rooms," he repeated. 

...

"Did you see the girl after that?" the counselor asked. 

"No. I don't think anyone saw anyone else that wasn't in their group after that."