Not a single part of me could move.
This. This is what I was afraid of.
"Ma'am! You need to back up," the guard shouted, his pistol staying fixed on me. "Leave right now!"
I couldn't. I wanted to, but my body wasn't agreeing with me. He was visibly getting more agitated and I knew I was in serious trouble.
The guard took a step closer to me, but then stopped. He was looking at something past me. I nearly dropped my box of food when a hand seemingly came out of nowhere and slapped down on my shoulder.
"I got it from here." Ian's deep voice echoed in the otherwise silent space.
For a couple of heartbeats, I forgot to breathe. I was stunned by his appearance, thinking he'd already gone upstairs.
Evidently, not.
He had his box of food balanced in one arm while his other hand was on my shoulder, squeezing it almost painfully hard. There was absolutely no reason for him to have lingered as long he had.
Unless he was waiting for me.
Ian broke the reverie.
"I'm a guard," he said confidently as though there wasn't a gun aimed in his general direction. "I'll escort her back to her floor. Do you need to see my ID?"
The guard with the gun hesitated, looking between me and Ian. After what seemed like forever, he slightly lowered his gun. "No. Just go. And do it fast."
Ian didn't wait for the guy to change his mind. He moved his hand to my elbow and guided me towards the stairs. I let him, grimacing the whole way as the room watched our hasty exit.
My knees were wobbly, but I was finally coming to my senses by the time we reached our floor. My emotions were all over the map despite how hard I was actively trying to get a grip on them.
I guess I'm not used to having a gun in my face.
"Thank you," I whispered as we reached our end of the hall. "I was just trying to-"
"Are you insane?" Ian cut me off. He glanced over his shoulder to check that we were alone, and held out his hand for my apartment key. I pulled it out of my pocket and passed it to him. With deft fingers, he hurriedly got my door open and pushed me inside. And in case I hadn't had enough shocks already that day, he followed me in.
The moment the door was shut, he spun on me. "Seriously," he said as he dropped his box on my couch, never breaking eye contact. "Are you certifiable?"
"Excuse me?"
"Do you have any idea how close you just got to getting yourself killed? You've been acting like a complete psycho! Do you have any idea how risky some of the shit you pulled was? Chris..."
I was furious. "Chris? Chris what? Finish your sentence."
He just rolled his eyes at me, shaking his head. I curled my hands into fists, digging my nails into my palms.
"Where is Chris?"
He crossed his arms and sucked in his bottom lip. Rather than answering, he started walking around the small space, observing the odd layout of the furniture.
"Nice place you got here," he said looking mildly amused while keeping his arms tightly crossed.
"Cut the crap," I snapped. "Where is he?"
Ian stopped his pacing. He was facing my kitchenette, blocking my view of his face, but I knew from the way he straightened his spine what was coming.
"Gone."
That was it. I heard my box of food crash to the floor before I felt my arms fall limply to my sides. Ian turned to look at me then, concern etched in his frown. He took a step towards me, but then stopped, looking deeply uncomfortable.
"Are you okay?" he asked, no longer meeting my eyes. His dark eyes became fixated on a chip in the wood on one of the cabinets.
I wet my lips before I spoke in an attempt to find my voice. "Are you sure?" I whispered.
"What?" His eyes flicked to me, then away again.
I cleared my throat this time. "Are you sure?"
"Yeah," he said. "Pretty sure."
"What?" I stumbled a step closer to him, nearly tripping over a can that had rolled out of the box. "Pretty sure? What the hell does that mean?'"
Ian sighed, finally making eye contact again. "I don't know what happened. I wasn't there."
"Then how do you know he's gone?"
He crossed his arms again and leaned back on my counter. "His patrol went missing."
His patrol?
My brow furrowed. "I thought you guys were usually on the same patrol."
"Yeah, usually. Not that day."
I watched him. His Adam's apple was working overtime, giving me a telltale sign that he was nervous. He tried to play it off, casually picking at his fingernails.
I pushed on. "Okay, fine. But missing and gone are two different things. He could still be out there, right? How do you know he doesn't need help?"
Ian stiffened, his jaw set in a grimace. "They are all assumed dead."
I snorted. "That makes no sense. You're going to have to explain this to me, Ian. And stop using short answers. I deserve to know what happened to my husband!"
He held up his hands. "You're right. You do. I just..." He sighed and pushed his hair out of his face. "Chicago's fallen."
The news was like a sucker punch to the gut. It seemed like in just a week's time everything had completely fallen apart. Malinda's warning was in the back of my mind and I couldn't help but wonder if this was what she had been warning me about.
Ian continued. "I don't have all the answers. I just know that he went with a small group to patrol our southern border and they never came back."
"But... that doesn't mean he's-"
"Kate," he cut me off. "It's getting bad out there."
I could feel the blood drain from my face. "Is it zombies?"
Ian shook his head. "I don't know." He must have seen the look on my face because he continued. "People from Chicago have been showing up almost every day now. We don't have the supplies to handle any more people. So, we were ordered to turn them away - by force if we have to – but they just keep showing up. We can't keep up with it."
A clearer picture of the happenings of the outside world began to be painted in my mind. A lump of fear formed in my throat.
"They're turning hostile, aren't they?"
Ian's eyes bored into me. "Yes."
I took a deep breath. "Are we going to be able to hold them off?"
"No," he said, smiling bitterly. "I think we might be able to for another week. Two tops."
Well, shit.
I bent down and started to put the cans that had escaped back into my box, giving myself a moment to think. Evidently, leaving was the right answer given that we probably wouldn't have much of a choice soon. I knew what my next move was – to find Chris.
It was clear that Ian believed Chris was dead. I didn't know if that was true and frankly, it didn't matter. I was going to do everything I could to find him. The question was whether or not I could trust Ian.
The man was, for the most part, a stranger. I knew Chris liked him and trusted him, but I only knew him from the stories Chris told.
I can't do this alone.
"Okay," I said, picking up my box and setting it down on the couch next to Ian's. "I'm going to find Chris. I know you say he's gone, but I can't not try. I have to believe he's out there and I'm going to search until I know for sure."
For the first time, Ian looked genuinely sad. I would have even gone so far as to say he looked a little haunted. It was puzzling, but I brushed it off.
"And you're going to help me," I stated. Chris trusted him and for now that had to be enough.
Ian's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Oh, am I?"
"You need me just as much as I need you." I had no idea if that was true, but Ian didn't interrupt me, so I kept going. "The more supplies we have the better. Plus, if it's getting bad, it will help to have someone watching your back. You were going east too, right? So, if you help me find Chris, I'll help you get east."
Ian rubbed his jaw, tilting his head so his hair fell into his face. "Alright, fine. But I don't want you to get your hopes up. The area he went to is dangerous."
"I get it, but I still have to try."
"Kate, I'm serious. You need-"
"I said I get it. Why are you trying to talk me out of it?" I snapped, almost regretting asking him to come along.
"I'm not. I just want you to be prepared." Ian sighed. "He was my friend, too."
That was all I needed to hear. "Okay."
He smiled then, breaking the tension. "Okay. Then if we're doing this, we're going to need more people."
My face must have spoken for me because his smile got even bigger.
"It's okay," he said. "I have a couple of people in mind."
Thank goodness for that.
"Are they guards?" I asked, trying to think back and remember anyone else Chris talked about.
"One is. The other is a building guard. I should be able to talk to them in the next few days."
"Good. Good..." I trailed off. Trusting Ian would take a bit more than I'd initially expected, but I needed to be all in, and having more people along didn't seem like the worst idea.
"Alright," I finally spoke up. "Then we should eat only as much as we need to stay strong right now." I walked over to the boxes. There was no water, no bottles. All of our water came from our plumbing. "Actually, save your cans, eat only bread if you can. Fill your bread bag with water and be careful to not break the rubber band when you close it up, we might not be able to find more."
We still needed a way to actually pack our food and other essentials. I rubbed my forehead in frustration as I remember that all bags, purses, and backpacks had been confiscated. They were being hoarded like many other goods to only be doled out as the higher-ups saw fit.
I looked around the room.
"Use your bedsheet for a bag." It was hardly convenient, but we could at least tie it up like a sack. "Put your plastic bags of water in your pillowcase and tie it to the sheet. We should have our stuff packed and ready just in case. Do you know anything about the building guards' shifts? Like, what time of day would it be best for us to leave?"
Ian looked a bit amused. "No, but I can find out."
"Okay. Then we should aim to leave next Wednesday if we can. That should give us enough time to plan and we'll be able to take even more food."
"Whatever you say, boss." He nodded.
"Don't call me that. When's the next time it's safe for us to meet?"
He smirked. "Let's plan for Sunday. I'll come here directly after my shift."
I took a deep breath. "Then I guess we have a plan."
With that, Ian walked over to his box of food and picked it up, balancing it under one arm. When he turned back to me, he seemed much more at ease, which in turn, put me at ease. I had a plan and an ally and that meant everything.
"Alright, then I'm off," he said, giving me a nod before turning for the door.
"Hey Ian," I called, effectively stopping him. "Thanks."
He gave me a stiff nod, looking somewhat uncomfortable again, and then was out my door and gone.
---
That night I didn't sleep on my couch. I went to my room and opened the top drawer of the side table next to my bed. In it sat my wedding ring. It was a simple gold band, but on the inside, it had our initials engraved in a heart. I slipped it on my ring finger. I'd lost too much weight in the last few months and so the ring no longer fit, falling off anytime I wasn't careful.
I laid back on my bed, clutching my left hand to my chest. I curled the hand into such a tight fist that I could feel the ring digging into my skin. At first, I didn't notice the tears, but once they started, I couldn't make them stop. Too much had happened too quickly and I couldn't hold it in any longer.
Thoughts of Chris consumed me. I missed him so much that I didn't know how I'd ever take another breath. Sobs ripped through me and I let them. I would have given anything to see him again, even if it was just for one last time.
I cried for our past, filled with tender moments and laughter.
I cried for our present, wishing things had been easier, wishing I had done more for him, wishing he'd hold me again.
I cried for our future, knowing that our dreams of a life together had come crashing down, with only a sliver of hope to keep me going.
The tears I'd been so desperately holding back all came pouring out. At some point, I drifted off into a fitful sleep.
---
The next day I woke up with a pounding headache and swollen eyes, but I got to work. I spent an hour laying out everything I'd need and placing them on the sheet. All of the contents from the "special" drawer in the kitchenette went in with the exception of the small screwdriver, which I'd decided was a better weapon than nothing and decided I'd carry it on me. I made sure to grab hygiene and feminine products, though the measly numbers wouldn't last more than a few months max. While I didn't have too much in the way of clothes, I still packed three outfits, all warm, in preparation for the winter months. My favorite thick, tan, suede jacket sat near the bed next to my sneakers. I planned to wear them until I could get my hands on some real winter gear.
After testing the sturdiness of the bags of water, I packed those too thinking I could refresh them later if needed. Next, I added all of the cans I was sure I wouldn't eat during the week. Last, I looked over my work projects. I had to keep doing them so as to not raise any suspicion with Malinda, but I decided that both my sewing kit and knitting needles would be coming with me.
And the red scarf.
I wanted it badly, but more importantly, I would need it to face the cold weather. I'd figure out some excuse for Malinda when the time came, but in the meanwhile, my only goal was to finish it. If I could finagle it, I also hoped I could manage to whip myself up a pair of gloves.
My wedding ring now sat securely on my thumb and Chris's watch was on my wrist. I was as close to ready as I could be. All my hopes now rested with Ian succeeding with his recruitment and all I could do was wait.
---
Friday came and went easily enough. I'd finished the scarf and took great pride in it being one of the better projects I'd done. The rest of my tasks for the week mostly consisted of tailoring jobs. A lot of it was resizing, usually taking in articles of clothing. It didn't surprise me that people were losing weight, but it did surprise me that we were being so stingy with goods that we wouldn't just simply hand out new clothing from a department store.
I had asked Chris about it once and he'd alluded to the sheer number of people who had moved into the city being the main cause. He'd told me that we were lucky to live in an apartment because houses now held two or more families depending on their size. I hadn't really thought about it much then, but now with Ian's warning about more people trying to come into the city, the stinginess made more sense.
By midday Saturday, I had made huge progress in getting my work done and was feeling confident that I'd have enough time to start organizing some scraps to make gloves. My thoughts frequently drifted between Chris and my family back east.
Chris and I had been together for three years and had moved out west shortly after we'd gotten married last year. It had been hard leaving my mom and sister behind, especially because it was just them. My dad had died when I was little and it had made us that much closer. As soon as I found Chris, I needed to continue my search for them.
They're okay. They have to be.
I was focused on reattaching a button when the lamp next to me suddenly turned off. I turned the knob on and off to no avail.
Freaking lightbulb.
It was always a pain in that ass to put in an order for an item considered essential. It would have to go through all of the proper channels and that process usually took five to ten days. I got up and went to the bedroom, planning to steal the lightbulb from the lamp on the nightstand, but then I paused.
Reluctantly, I reached out and tried turning the lamp on.
No.
The power had gone out.
And it didn't turn back on.