Tanya
I have never had a headache this bad in my life.
When I lift my fingers to a spot on my forehead, I see where the pain and blood is coming from. Oh god, oh god there's so much-
I force myself to slow down and think logically. For whatever reason, the United States capital building just blew up. Every single FBI agent, police officer, private investigator, EMT, and firefighter within a hundred mile radius will be called on- forced to come here regardless of whether they're on break or not.
If there is even a sliver of a chance, they will find me.
I'm afraid to sit up or move at all- for fear of accidentally shifting three stories worth of rubble and sending something crashing down on my skull.
Then I remember reading somewhere that if an explosion was bad enough, and the empty pocket you're stuck in doesn't have a clear way out (think a place to climb through the rubble, a hole that acts as a 'vent' of sorts) it'll be incredibly dusty and smoky hours later.
There is zero dust where I am. My hand immediately jolts to my pocket, where my phone was- and it's gone. I ignore the pounding in my heart and head, and sit up on my elbow to look around.
I won't be able to crawl through it. That much is clear. Then I look up- and what I see almost makes me cry. There is a hole. A tiny one- but one big enough to stick my arm through and wave.
I just have to get up there.
I finally register shouting off in the distance, though the words are unclear. The president crosses my mind first.... and then..... Katie.
Thinking her name is what gets me up. I half stand, half bend over, becoming claustrophobic in the tiny space with sweat pouring down my forehead.
Assessing the rubble further, I come to the conclusion that I'll be able to climb up just far enough to stick my hand out. Fuck.
I grab onto what looks like it used to be a support beam, now exposed. A few feet above, it branches off into sharp metal spikes- destroying any hope I had that there are more survivors, and solidifying the idea in my mind that my own survival, and my ability to walk right now- are fucking miracles.
This makes me climb faster, and I switch to a trapped concrete slab when one of the spikes slices my leg. Almost there, I tell myself. Only a few more feet to go and then I'm free.
Almost-
Upon climbing a wooden beam, it breaks and goes crashing down, leaving me hanging by another one.
For a few seconds I hang in fear, eyes wide, arms shaking. Then I tell myself: If you don't get out of here you will die and never know if your daughter's okay or not.
I furrow my eyebrows in concentration as I ignore the strain in my unused muscles. This will be the first- and the last pull up I ever do. Grunts of frustration escape my lips, yet nobody above seems to hear me. I use this as motivation and let myself scream until I'm at a level where I can flop my upper body forwards.
Holy Shit. I actually did that.
Panting, I give myself just a few seconds.
Then I see that I've gotten as far as I'll be able to. I stand on the beam, wrapping one arm around a pole for support, and lean forward. As a second thought, I rip my congressional pin from my jacket- grateful they gave us those early this year too.
But to my horror, my fingertips just barely peek out. So I do the only thing I have left: I scream. I scream as loud as I can until my throat feels sore. I scream and I wave my pin around frantically until I hear frantic footsteps rushing towards me.
I feel somebody take the pin from my fingers and hear them scream at the top of their lungs; "WE'VE GOT A CONGRESSIONAL SURVIVOR!!"
I laugh, hiccup, and cry at the same time.
"Ma'm-" he grabs onto my hand. "We are going to get you out, but we need you to describe what it looks like in there."
"Uhm...." I clear my throat. "There's.... exposed support beams mostly and... well the metal one's splintered so I'd just.... be careful if ya send somebody down here."
"Oh no-" He shakes his head. Through the tiny hole, I see him violently gesturing to somebody. Five seconds later, he's got a rope in his hands. "We're gonna pull you out."
"But-"
"I'm sorry ma'm, but at the moment- you being injured is better than you being dead. Now I've been tasked with saving the lives of our government leaders and I plan on doing just that." He says as the rope reaches me. I sigh, and decide that for once- I'll actually listen to a man. With the same death grip I had on that beam, I wrap my hands around it. Before I have a chance to open my mouth again, the first responders are tossing rubble aside with their hands, trying to make the hole big enough to squeeze my body through it. When they think they've succeeded, they begin pulling.
Sharp concrete slices my cheek as I'm pulled through. I finally get a good look at the aftermath and my heart drops into my stomach:
The rotunda is gone.
The senate and House chambers have been reduced to nothing.
The inauguration stage is leveled.
I hold my stomach, face away from the EMT's, and I vomit.
That stage is where every member of our higher government was. Now they're as good as dead, all of them.
I feel an EMT's hand on my back, pulling me to reality, and that's when it hits.
"My daughter. Where is my daughter?"
"I don't know-"
"What's her name?"
"Katie Clark." I quickly reply to the female EMT. She glanced over her work phone, and I feel like throwing up again out of relief at her response.
"In ambulance 14."
I start scooting down the rubble on my ass, not caring who sees my underwear at this point. Behind me, the female EMT shouts "Wait! We have to treat your injuries too-"
"Then I guess it's a good thing I'm going to an ambulance."
And somehow, two reporters have managed to get close enough to question me.
"Congresswoman can you describe what happened here from your POV and where you were when it happened-"
"No she cannot." A police officer says. "This is an ongoing investigation. We will update the media as soon as we can."
He places a hand on my back- apparently having recognized me and my daughter because he went to a campaign event once when he was visiting his own; or so he says. I don't recognize him.
Shielding me from the reporter's cameras, he guides me to the ambulance my daughter is sitting in. And to my relief, she's uninjured with the exception of a scratch on her forehead. I almost throw myself into the vehicle as the police officer shuts the door, wrapping my arms around her and shaking.
"Mom- mom stop it I'm fine, really. I'd worry more about yourself."
"Ya know-" the EMT rubbing her forehead with disinfectant shrugs. "She's kinda right- come here."
Before I have a chance to say anything, her hands are on my leg, and then my own forehead and cheek- pushing the hair aside for a better look.
"Well at least ya won't need stitches. That makes this a lot easier." She shuffled through the oversized duffle bag for for disinfectant and bandages, and I sit still as she does her job.
Then as she's placing the last bandage, there's another loud boom.
She stops for a second to listen, then comes to a conclusion; "Wasn't in the capital building. It came from the left, a few miles away."
Gee, that's comforting.
After what feels like a few more hours, though it's probably more like two minutes, around ten cars pull into the clearing we're in, and there's a knock on the ambulance door.
The EMT opens it immediately.
"I'm Lynn Wei- secret service." She holds up her badge and a hand for me to shake. "Ma'm, we are taking you to the White House now. It is the safest place on the planet at the moment and...."
She hesitates for a split second, seemingly trying to process everything herself.
"And?" I raise an eyebrow, urging her to continue.
"And you are the only known surviving member of the United States higher government." I involuntarily put a hand over my mouth.
"So what... what are you saying Agent Wei?"
She sighs.
"Ma'm.... Right now we have no idea if the president, Vice President, presidential cabinet, senate leaders, or house speaker are alive. So...." She coughs. "As the only known congressional survivor, you are essentially the acting speaker of the house..... which makes you the acting president of the United States."