An abrupt knocking was at the door, followed by a loud bang and the door swinging open. I squinted my eyes as the artificial light from the hallway glared into the one room cell. An agent dressed in all black came through the door with a cold expression on her stoic face.

"Come with me." she stated. I looked to Vince, though he just shrugged his shoulders and followed her out the door. 

We made our way down the long, dank hallway, following the agent as her long, auburn hair swayed in the wind coming from her fast-paced stride. The corridor seemed to stretch for miles, an endless road to nowhere. Vince apparently noticed my nervous state and grabbed my hand. The hallway stretched on for another five minutes of walking, until we reached a set of large, double doors. 

The woman beckoned us inside and took us over to where the other 49 Americans were stationed in front of a podium. There was a large amount chatter erupting from the group, and I could easily tell that everyone was on-edge. A man stepped up onto the stage, dressed in a crisp, black suit, the likes of which no one had seen in the past ten years. His head was faintly covered by a small tuft of white hair, and the beard on his chin was thicker than the straggler hairs left on his head. The Secretary of State, Marcus Bruno, that is, back when there was a state to be the secretary of. 

"American citizens, please, settle down." he started, waving his hands over the crowd to silence his rowdy audience. "Now I know what has happened in the past few hours has brought about some commotion, and I don't want anyone to be upset. I, too, am grieving the loss of our president, but this is not the end. This may come as a surprise to you all, but what is left of every country is being shipped over to France. The french prime minister announced the evacuation of Earth, and we are going to follow his orders. Within an hour, we are all going to board a plane that will transport us over there in three hours. Once we land, everyone will take a test to determine which pod they will take, and you will all be broken up from there. If you would please cooperate, it would be highly appreciated. Thank you."

He stepped down from the podium and pushed through the crowd to a door in the corner of the room. There was a huge commotion, a surge of people trying to trample him in an uproar. Vince and I stayed to the back of the group, slowly making our way towards the door. An agent stopped Vince when he reached the exit. 

"If you are attempting to escape, there's no use." she whispered. Vince glanced to me and furrowed his brows. "Everyone who refuses to join us will die here."

...

The plane was disgusting. There were dead bugs littered everywhere, and it seemed as though nobody had touched this thing in at least three years. But then again, what other choice did we have? We had heard a rumor that the president knew this was coming, so she killed herself in order for the evacuation to begin. I didn't know whether or not to believe it, but I wouldn't be surprised if it was true. 

The last remaining Americans were crammed into this small aircraft, along with the two agents that still survived and Marcus Bruno. The captain of the plane was an agent who barely knew what he was doing, making the three hour flight very uncomfortable, but in this world, comfort didn't matter anymore. 

Once we landed in France, the entire group of 51 was shuffled over to a crumbling building, though it was the only building that was still standing. We watched as other planes landed, some carrying as few as three people. Every plane was damaged in its own way, but as far as we know, almost everyone was safe. 

"Mr. Bruno! We have just recieved word that the Russians' plane has crashed!" a young man called as he rushed over to Bruno. He couldn't have been over the age of 22, and he was at least 6 feet tall, with icy blonde hair and blue eyes. He spoke in a thick Russian accent, and was dressed completely in rags. 

"Thank you for letting me know, I'll alert the French authorities right away." Bruno placed a firm hand on the man's shoulder before jerking him to the side and briskly walking into the building. The man looked left and right, over his shoulder, before he followed Bruno. 

"Did you see that?" Vince muttered.

"Yeah. That's awful." I sighed. I wasn't affected by death much anymore. After our entire family died, I had become numb to the pain, though I still wasn't convinced that Vince was ever going to move on from the death of our parents five years ago. 

"No, I'm talking about that guy. He looked pretty suspicious. And it doesn't make any sense that he would have a Russian accent, if all of the Russians supposedly crashed on their way here. There's something strange going on here..."