The Last Christmas Read Online Free PDF Page B

Vice President is here.”
    Allen laughed. “What? We gonna just go storm into the Vice President’s suite?”
    John scoffed , “No. we’re gonna make our own holding place up there. When the chopper comes for him, we’ll get on board.”
    “ Oh, yeah,” Allen said sarcastically. “They’ll just say, come on board. I’m sure his entourage will take up most of the room.”
    “What I heard on the radio was that there was only three of them,” John replied. “We have our own supplies. Our own radio. Those penthouses all have fireplaces. We lock in after we raid every apartment for stuff to burn.”
    “How long?” I asked.
    “Rescue is slated for ten days. Let’s plan to ration for thirty.”
    That was the plan.
    Most people had left Washington, D.C.. If they lived in the particular high-rise we chose, then for certain they made their way to safety.
    The plan wasn’t to bother or storm into the Vice President’s ‘penthouse’ bunker; it was to make our own.
    What John didn’t know was the layout of the building or how many ‘penthouse apartments’ there were. We traveled up twelve flights of stairs, carrying our backpacks and that tank of gas.
    John surveyed first while we waited in the stairwell.
    It was pitch-black and ice cold. We were sheltered, but I couldn’t imagine how anyone would live long exposed to the elements. It was going to get worse, too.
    He returned saying he knew which penthouse the Vice President resided in and chose one for us.
    John had to break down the door with Allen , and we slipped inside the penthouse. It was huge, hollow, and cold.
    I suppose it was going to be beautiful when the sun rose , or at least in the morning.
    “I’ll get this fireplace going,” John said. “Then you and Brea hang tight here, while me and Allen go get all we can from apartments. We’ll hit every one and get what we can.”
    “Can we keep the fire going?” Allen asked.
    “We have to. These temperatures are going to drop to arctic levels. We’ll freeze in ten minutes after being exposed, maybe less.”
    It didn’t take long. I guess noise traveled louder in the quiet of the apocalypse.
    Before John and Allen could get the fireplace started, our door burst open and another soldier stormed our room.
    He held his weapon on us and our soldier, John, faced off with him.
    “Stand down,” ordered the other soldier.
    “Back off,” John said. “We aren’t hurting anyone.”
    Then I saw him. He stood in the door way. The Vice President.
    John saw him too.
    “What are you people doing?” the Vice President asked.
    “Begging your pardon, sir,” John said. “Surviving. We mean no harm and we won’t bother you. I have a woman and child here. We are going to fire this thing up, stay warm, and stay alive during this storm. We have our own supplies. I appreciate if you told your Captain, here, to lower his weapon.”
    The Vice President didn’t give the order. He said, “You plan on staying in this apartment?”
    “Yes, sir,” John answered. “Until the rescue chopper arrives. We’re not in your way.”
    “This is nonsense,” the Vice President said.
    At that point I was irritated. Why did we have a gun pointed at us? The whole situation was bad enough for my child, but now she had to witness this. It took everything I had not to blurt the one bad response of, “This is why I didn’t vote for you.”
    I was glad I didn’t say that.
    The Vice President stepped forward. “Lower your weapon, Captain. We have plenty of room with us. We’ll join forces.”
     
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    The Vice President took an immediate, fatherly liking to Brea, keeping a blanket over her and near the fire.
    “ She will have the warmest spot,” the Vice President announced. We later began calling him by his first name of Ralph.
    Having John was an asset.
    They had gathered things to burn, but didn’t look beyond the ten-day window of waiting.
    John and Allen gathered a lot of things from the lower apartment s,