Countdown

10...

Sarah grabbed as much as she could and shoved it all into a large suitcase that lay on her bed. Her favorite shoes, make-up, and prom dress from junior year, just in case.

"Hurry! They'll close the doors before you even get to the car!" Her mother was frantically looking for Luca's left shoe as the toddler excitedly showed her that he was a big boy by removing the right one.

Sarah didn't want to leave everything behind but she didn't have the room, or the time, to pack it all. She shoved pictures of the cheer squad, all of her friends, and one taken with her crush into a side pocket on the suitcase. She didn't want to hide away in a pit in the ground. How were they even sure they would be safe there? Why didn't they build one big enough for the whole town? It was only a few thousand people, not like a big city. All of her friends would be locked outside. Everyone she cared about would...

She wiped the tears away and zipped her bag, taking one last look at her room and all the things she had to leave behind.

9...

Dr. Honley revved his engine and cursed at the cars in front of him. "GET MOVING, YOU DUMBASSES!!"

"Charles! Language, please!"

"Sandra, the world is ending. I think I'm allowed a little fucking road rage!"

Finally, the line started to move again. Sandra shook her head, but there was a strange comfort in her husband's foul mood. She could almost pretend it was any other day in a normal traffic jam. It would have been easier if there wasn't a young mother knocking on car window after car window begging someone to take her baby with them to the shelter. She truly wished that she could take that woman and her baby both with them. So many lives left to burn and die. So many children and yet this old woman and her crotchety husband are allowed because they are among the best in their fields. She wondered if it was possible to change places with them. But no, her husband would be the only surgeon, they needed him, and there was no way he would go without her.

8...

Airman Westley checked the papers and handed them back. "Welcome to Community 17, Mr. Renault. Park your car in the lot to the left and take all your belongings with you into the facility."

"I have to leave my car outside? But what if the bombs destroy it?"

"When the bombs hit, sir, there will be nowhere to drive to. Please park your car and remember all your personal effects. You will not be allowed to leave once you enter the facility."

"I'm not leaving my car out here! It's a classic! You call your superiors and tell them you are refusing to let Bill Renault into the shelter."

"I am not refusing you, sir, just your car."

"I'll have you know I helped build these shelters! I am a very important man!"

"Look, sir," he interrupted the man, gritting his teeth and only barely resisting the urge to reach through the car window and drag the man out by his shirt collar. "You cannot take the car. By the time it will be safe to exit the shelter you will have been dead about 50 to 100 years, and if you helped build these shelters, then you already know this! Park the car and get inside." He took several deep breaths as Mr.Renault spun his tires in the dirt before the car made traction and sped off through the gate. If ONE more person asked to bring their car in, Airman Westley was going to shoot them.