Chaos - 5/17

As if the tent needed more instability, our second day was riddled with a few aftershocks, one of which we heard bring down another nearby building, devastating the crowd's morale outside. Our tent had been stationed in a park, away from any structures, for precisely that reason.

Whenever an aftershock hit, the staff would hold onto the nearest bed and wait. The patients mostly screamed. For all of us, earthquakes had been a common occurrence over the last few years, meaning that anything below a six was nothing too worrying, and these aftershocks were commonplace. Still, we had just been hospitalized by an earthquake, and I was among those who had been screaming, much to my own surprise.

From what I could hear around me, The Big One, as it was creatively being called, had been an 8.0. Nothing short of apocalyptic for the city.

As someone who lived through it, at least so far, that seemed a little on the low end.

Earlier, I had confirmed one of yesterday's theories about food being passed out when they announced a breakfast line was forming. I further confirmed that while only a day had passed, supplies were already running low. Whoever had planned the response had severely underestimated the scale. With each passing hour, tension only rose as the ones outside fed more and more into the theory that help wasn’t on its way. If I had picked up on it, those who could see the situation more clearly surely had as well.

Though there was hope on the horizon.

One of the few people who still had a charge on their phone caught wind that the president would be making an announcement about the disaster. From past events, normally, this would be him outlining a plan to support the affected region, as well as some words to those on the ground to inspire them. It had never been my cup of tea to listen to, but being at ground zero for the event put it into perspective.

A little hope would go a long way in the face of devastation.

In anticipation, some of the staff members rigged up a microphone and speaker system to play the announcement to the entire tent. Marcos was one of the ones I overheard working on it, duct taping the ‘TALK’ button down so that it would play continuously as the speech went on.

Five in the afternoon came quickly compared to yesterday, and everyone waited in anticipation to hear when relief would be on the way. A once buzzing crowd was now holding it’s breath. It only made the crying and moaning from within the tent stand out all the more.

Our national anthem played across the silence, and then the speech began. The president’s voice was coming through grainy due to the jury-rigged setup.

“My fellow countrymen, I speak to you today with a heavy heart, and with an even heavier burden. As many are aware, over the last few days, our great nation has been ravaged by a series of earthquakes whose destruction is unprecedented and unimaginable. In fact, it was not just our nation affected, but the nations of the world at large that suffered this catastrophe. I come to you today to warn you that worse is yet to come.”

There is a collective gasp throughout the crowd, shattering the previously impenetrable silence with resounding murmurs.

Not the hope we need.

The chatter is quickly silenced again as the speech continues.

“In the past, our nation has persevered through the worst of times. We’ve overcome foes, our internal differences, and ourselves. Yet never before have we faced a situation so dire that we would leave our countrymen behind in their time of need.”

That’s a lie.

“We would never abandon them to fend for themselves.”

Jesus Christ, get to the point.

“My heart and my morals still wish this to be true, but our history will say otherwise. Some may have wished to keep this a secret, to prevent panic in the coming year. Not I. I have never been that type of leader, and will continue to be so come hell or high water. I believe it is only fair to keep you all informed on what decisions are being made.”

Prevent panic?

I’d never heard a presidential address garner this much of our collective attention. You could hear a pin drop whenever he paused between statements.

“Through great effort, our nation’s... No, the world's top scientists worked over the last few months to track a series of concerning readings coming from within the Earth. They tried, exhaustively, to find a different explanation, a solution. There was none to be found. These unprecedented events only point us to one devastating conclusion: the earthquakes we have been experiencing are the precursor to an extinction-level event that will occur within the next calendar year.”

A what?

The crowd echoes my thoughts. Fearful murmurs ripple throughout once more as a few staff members inside the tent began to move around very frantically, desperately trying to calm those around them.

“Today, I am declaring martial law in active green zones, where continuity of government will be in effect. I am also activating our code black protocol.”

Wait what?

“Do not panic. Follow your local green zone’s instructions in the coming months. It has been an honor serving you all, and I will continue to do so till my final breath. May God have mercy on our souls.”

The radio crackles off. Somehow, the air seems thicker today than it was yesterday. It felt like no one even dared to breathe as we took in the magnitude of the President’s announcement.

Extinction level event? Code black?

How are we not supposed to panic with that information? Code black meant we were on our own in whatever was about to come. Extinction level was…

It had to be some sort of joke.

Whether it was a joke or not was irrelevant to someone in the crowd. That one person was all it took for chaos to ensue as I tried and failed to process what I had just heard.

The silence broke. Marcos grabbed the microphone and yells for people to calm down, only to be drowned out by the roar of the others.

Unbridled chaos.

I’d always wondered what it would be like to be part of a riot, just not paralyzed in bed right in the middle of one. I could only hear the uproar, the stamping of feet as people ran, and the distinct sound of flesh hitting something hard.

My brain plays back the speech over and over, mulling over the words. Even if what he said turned out to be true, with how people were acting outside, we would be going extinct much quicker.

Initial screams of panic quickly turn to anger as the tent above me caves slightly, a body pushing against it. More soon to follow. They could be alive or dead. Staff or refugee, but too many voices overlapped to understand the extent of it all. One thing was clear to me even without seeing outside, the crowd wasn’t going to wait in line for supplies anymore.

CRACK

A gunshot rings out, revving the crowd into even more of a frenzy.

I hear the commotion reach the mouth of the tent. Someone is trying to get in for medications.

The angry voice I know as Jasper responds, telling them they can’t.

Screaming is met with more gunfire.

Staff members get overwhelmed, and a horde rushes in, grabbing at anything they can get their hands on. I hear beds get pushed over in the struggle. Someone is thrown on top of me, slamming their head into my chest. If I had forgotten about the pain during the speech, I sure wasn’t forgetting now.

People who had been lining up side by side for food mere hours ago were fighting tooth and nail for whatever they could get their hands on. I was lucky I already had a neck brace on, or the whiplash might have killed me.

Forget living the next year waiting for extinction, I would be lucky to live through the day. Another person tears at my neck as my bed topples to the ground. Now lying on the hard ground, with feet trampling dangerously close to me at all times, I can only swear at the president.

Should have just kept us in the dark.