After the Birds

Chapter Six

Remerton

NY, USA

2024

Andrea

Andrea has been planning for days. She is almost out of food, and she can’t remain in the apartment any longer. Instead, she has placed everything she will bring with her on the kitchen table and now she’s perusing the items. She’s placed her backpack that has all kinds of pockets and storage.

First, she stows her phone, charger and a newly charged power bank. The electricity has come and gone the last few days, but as long as she can find somewhere to charge her phone, she’ll keep it. A USB stick with all the digital photos that they have ever taken. Andrea spent an entire day at the computer and transferred all the photos of Mom, Theo, and herself. There were also photos of Dad and Antonio. She kept photos of her friends and Mom’s too. She took it all. Now she puts the USB stick next to the phone. Mom’s phone too, to use as a backup. A second USB stick, this one containing her favorite music also ends up next to the others. It is vital to save the music she and the girls used to dance to.

Andrea hasn’t been able to reach Antonio for days. That is another important reason why she has to leave the apartment. Before they lost touch, Theo’s voice was the only thing that kept Andrea going, and she fears that something’s happened to them. Antion hasn’t mentioned venturing out. Their supplies were supposed to last a couple of weeks longer. His plan was that a trusted neighbor would babysit Theo when it was time to get more food. Andrea asked Antonio if it wasn’t smart to go looking for food before the current supplies were completely depleted and before the stores were ransacked. Antonio disagreed. He was sure the solution to ‘the problem’ would come before then. A vaccine. Or some sort of salvation from above.

Even Andrea knows better, she thinks as she packs three pairs of thin socks and two wooly pairs. She’s seen from the window how the steady stream of people to and from the grocery store has dwindled to a handful. She figures that the story is empty by now, and the ones who looted it are probably sick or dead.

She packs three t-shirts, two pairs of leggings, and an extra pair of jeans. Pantis, five pairs, and a toiletry bag containing the essentials, some makeup, toothbrush, hairbrush, small bottles of shampoo, dental floss, and a mirror. One of the smaller towels, the one that is so worn it folds easily, fits too. After a great deal of thinking in the bathroom, she decides to bring toilet paper and a small package of pads. She hasn’t had her first period yet, but Mom said it was just a matter of time. She doesn’t relish the idea of doing her business behind a bush somewhere, but it might come to that.

As for food, Andrea doesn’t have very much to pack. A box of crackers, five one-portion soups, ten pieces of hard bread, and a box of sugar lumps. She pours salt and pepper into small zip lock bags—she has a vague memory that salt can be vital—and packs the food together into her backpack. Perhaps she should pack some dry milk too? Andrea checks the bags of flour. There. Two bags of dry milk. She tries lifting her backpack. Not too heavy yet.

Since she wants to be mindful of the power in her phone, Andrea has chosen two books she has yet to read, and an old favorite, My Friend Flicka. She considers bringing a book for Theo, but he has his own things at Antonio’s. They can pack a bag for him over there if they need to. He usually brings his school bag when he’s at his dad’s. Andrea wonders if Theo has been upset about not being able to go to school. He’s so proud of being a proper schoolboy. She hasn’t dared to ask when they’ve talked over the phone.

Andrea ties her Nike sneakers on the outside of the backpack and the attaches the sleeping mat and her sleeping bag. She has a small first aid kit that she won at a 4H camp last summer and she packs that as well. It contains a few survival things as well, among other things a fishing line. It sounds hopeless to go fishing in February, but you never know when and how it can be useful. The small kit also holds band aids, wet wipes, bandages, a small pair of scissors, and a silvery sort of blanket that Mom said is used to keep warm.

The thought of Mom starts her tears again. This won’t do. If she starts truly crying over Mom, she won’t stop for hours. Andrea slaps her cheeks with both hands and the sting overshadows the tears, at least for the moment.

Two 500 mils bottles of water fit in the special compartments on each side of the backpack. In another smaller compartment, meant for cooling blocks, she instead packs all the matches and lighters she can find around the apartment. Wrapping sunglasses in a baseball cap is a good idea. She roams around and gathers all the unused batteries she can find as well.

Andrea sits down on a kitchen chair next to the one holding her backpack. She goes over the long lists she’s made. She has crossed out a lot, and added a lot too, before she was pleased with it. Now she stows the A5 pad and a fistful of graphite pencils and regular pens.

She needs a weapon. Of course there are no guns around the house. She’s bringing a knife anyway as she’ll need it, but the mere idea of going into close combat with someone who might be after her backpack with a knife, makes sweat chill the small of her back.

An idea makes her rush into Theo’s room. Ther, in the corner she finds the signed baseball bat that Antionio’s dad bought and had signed for Theo in Boston. Someone who is a famous Red Sox player has signed it, but the signature is unreadable. Andrea wonders of this player also got sick, but then pushed such a useless thought away. Nobody watches baseball on tv now anyway. According to the news, the airborne virus is everyway because of the birds.

She weighs the baseball bat in her hand, and it feels just heavy enough. Whit this she should be able to keep people at a distance by swinging away. Standing in the middle of the living room, she tries it. It’s harder than you think to really put all your strength into it. Andrea decides to practice a few useful moves at the first opportunity. Maybe when she reaches Theo, she can persuade him that it is now a weapon, rather a toy from his granddad. She doesn’t look forward to it. Theo can be stubborn as a mule.

She decides to carry the bat in her hands the entire time she’s outside. She can’t think of a good way of attaching it to her backpack. She might need it quietly and that means there’s no time to fiddle with strings, or whatever.

Eventually, there’s just a few small items yet to pack. Her passport, Mom’s bottle of paracetamol and antibacterial paste. She stops in midstep, suddenly thinking of Molly’s big brother, James. He used to play a game called “Fallout” and sometimes let Andrea have a go. In the apocalyptic game, the hero always needed a screwdriver and hairpins. Does Mom even have a toolbox? She looks in the cleaning closet and finds a tiny toolbox from Ikea. The screwdriver is cool, as it has all its bits stored in the handle.

Andrea makes a detour to the bathroom and raids it for all the bobby pins she can find, and five scrunchies. Not quite understanding how she can giggle at the idea of her picking a lock with any of these items, she still chuckles, despite aching for Mom and Theo. She doubts she could get into anything at all.

She uses a scrunchy to put up her long hair. She can tuck it into her beany hat, and perhaps that will make people think she’s a boy. It’s not like she has the world’s boobs.

Daddy’s old watch, the one you wind by hand, sits on her write wrist, and her cool Fitbit on her left. She can probably just chuck it when the battery is dead.

Andrea doesn’t know why she presumes that any categories of people who used to mend things or put in batteries have become sick and passed. Perhaps it’s because she’s so sad?

She brins her old teddy bear that she won at a Christmas market raffle when she was little. Fiddling with a safety pin, she attaches the pink little bear on one of the shoulder straps. Now she only has to tilt her head to feel him against her cheek. The teddy bear doesn’t have a name, other than perhaps Teddy, but it has gone to every camp, on every trip, and sleepover. One time when Andrea was hospitalized as a little girl, Mom told her that they forgot Teddy at home in all the commotion. Dad had to drive home and get him when she was admitted, otherwise there would have been complete mayhem.

She adds the rest of the safety pins in the toiletry bag, and then studies the outdoor clothes she plans to wear. It’s not terribly cold out, so she had no leggings under her jeans right now. She had put some on later if she gets cold. She does several layers under her down jacket. She remembers the instructors at the 4h drilling this into all the kids. It is just important to be able to remove layers as to add them. A tank top, long sleeved t-shirt, and a sweatshirt boasting a Vaultec logo from the ‘Fallout’ game. The boots are black Doc Martens, with coarse soles. If she needs to kick someone’s balls, they’re bound to feel it properly. She’ll wear her mittens in two layers. First capacitive knitted gloves which you can keep wearing even if you need your phone. Then thick fleece mittens where she can fold the outer part up and back against the hand to free the fingers.

The brand-new down jacket is the most important part. It has tons of pockets and now Andrea is considering moving her phone over to one of the inner pockets. She decides it’s a good idea and also adds a plastic bag with her sunglasses and some hard bread. She can easily reach the two water bottles right behind her. They are also attached with carabiners—nobody will be able to steal them without her noticing.

Andrea is almost ready to leave, and now she’s trembling all over. She sees an abandoned lump of sugar on the kitchen counter and puts it in her mouth. The apartment is well kept. Andrea spent two days vacuuming and washing the floors. It took a while, as the power kept giving out.

As a last thing, she walks into the living room and switches on the TV. To her surprise, there’s a new newscast. The last few days there has only been the same broadcast in an eternity loop, but now a young man she doesn’t recognize is in the studio. She turns up the sound and sits down on the couch, holding her jacket on her lap. She knows she’s not allowed to wear her boots indoors, but they’re not dirty—and what does it matter?

“…it is just me here, and a single cameraman. No journalists are left, and as long as the power doesn’t disappear, we’ll attempt a broadcast.” The guy smiles nervously and clears his throat. He has blond, curly hair, and Andrea thinks he looks like James, Molly’s brother, but older. “Her in New York, you need to stay indoors still, unless you absolutely have to go outside. It has to be about life or death, trust me. You take your life in your hands if you go outside in the evenings or during the night. Gangs have taken over and loots stores and companies. You can ask yourself how much there can be left to steal. My colleague and I have barricaded us here, and those of you who thinks it’s possible to force your way in—it doesn’t No use in trying. We have plenty of cafeteria food and the kitchen. We’ll be fine for a long time.” He holds up a document. “Her is the latest telegrams that’s come in. A lot of this you may know already, but I’ll read it anyway.”

Andrea understands by his way of speaking that he’s not used to anchoring. He doesn’t sound professional, but that only makes it more real, somehow.

“The internet servers around the world are failing. The more the power goes out, for different reasons, the more that will become apparent. It’s a bit Ironic that Facebook seems to work, but not the big networks, or and the government’s pages. Time to download your favorite films while you can, then.” The guy shakes his head. “It’s not clear who’s in charge at the White House, or wherever the current president is located. Last I saw a new telegram, it was the woman from Department of Interior. That should put the national parks at the forefront.” The young man snorts unhappily. “As several department heads are simply missing, since there’s no confirmation that they passed on, I would argue that the rats are leaving the ship and going underground, or isolating themselves on boats, etc.”

Andrea hugs her knees hard to her chest, listening to how the leaders of the world have died from the virus, or from riots—or there are rumors that they’ve barricaded themselves somehow. The guy calls it anarchy and chaos. It sounds bad, no matter which is correct. She knows what chaos is, but she’s less certain about anarchy. She’s not going to waste her battery to Google it. If Google still works.

“In the end it’s worth repeating that, CDC, the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention’s advice. Stay indoors. Wash your hands. If you have to go out, keep away from crowds. Find ways to conserve cold water. Your tub, large cannisters, bowls, containers, and bottles, all can hold fresh water. Even pots and pans. That’s my advice. Another good call is to not flush the toilets. Put in plastic bags and layer it all with dirt. Tie off. Bury it.

The guy grows quiet and then he waves his colleague over. “This is Oscar. Your turn, buddy.”

A man, somewhat older than the first one, sits down in the news anchor chair. “Hi. I’m Oscar.” He laces his fingers and pulls hard at them. “I want to take the chance to tell my family and my friends, if you are alive and watching this, that I’m all right. I hope I’ll see some of you again. Mom, Sis, I miss you so much. Dad, don’t play the hero. Stay inside with Mom and Sis. I hope the fact that I can’t reach you, is because of bad reception or power outage.” He swallows hard and then leaves the chair. Muted sobs come over the mic and Andrea bites her lower lip, not to join him. She’s not going to see her parents again. Dad died when she was little, but it is as if the old grief is emphasized by the new.

The younger guy leaves a similar greeting to his family, and also includes his boyfriend, Max. He asks for forgiveness for forcing Max to live a closeted life. Andera understands. What does prejudices mean now—nothing. The virus hits everyone the same way, except the ones who are immune, and the unicorns out there that claim they were cured. It doesn’t matter if you are gay or straight, super-rich, or living in a small two-bedroom apartment on the outskirts of Remerton. The bird virus doesn’t discriminate. You can sit there with all the money and fancy clothes and be a fucking rich corpse.

Andrea gets up and puts on her jacket. She pulls her beany down to cover her forehead and puts her mittens in her pockets while she hoists the backpack and tightens the straps. When she’s got everything, she grabs the keys and opens the balcony door. It is below freezing outside, but no wind. The sun’s out and it’s actually a nice day.

It’s a glassed-in balcony and she’s opened the windows fully, to keep it as cold as possible. Andrea trembles again when she turns to the inner wall. A rolled-up rug sits along the bench where she’s had a glass of juice during so many warm summer days. Now it’s Mom’s final resting place, rolled up in the rug from her bedroom. The pretty white rug with long, silky threads. Mom had to save up for six months to buy it and now it’s her shroud. She’s been out here for ten days. Andrea has been sitting inside on the couch since then, without being able to think of anything else but Mom, lying out here alone, cold and quiet. Now she must leave her. Maybe she can come back and make sure Mom gets a proper burial? Andrea decides to at least keep that hope up.

She bends and pats the rug. The course back of it pricks her skin. “Bye, Mom. I’ll keep my promise. I’m going to find Theo and take care of him.”

 
Then she goes inside and closes the balcony door behind her, careful to press the black latch that locks it. She makes another round through the apartment and then it’s time to go. It’s 9.30 am and she doesn’t how long it will take to get to Antonio’s condo.

Andrea takes Theo’s—no, her—baseball bat and opens the front door carefully. She hasn’t done that since Mom came home with tons of groceries a month ago. The stench in the stairwell is so foul, she almost turns around. Then she closes the door behind her and locks it, deadbolt and all. The key goes into her inner pocket from sheer habit. The stairwell is empty as far as she can tell from here, thank God. She’s had nightmares about sick or dead people laying stacked outside her door, making it impossible for her to get out.

Using the elevator is out of the question. You don’t do that when the electricity is so unreliable. She hasn’t heard the elevator move in a long time. It’s probably broken, anyway. She peers over the railing, ready to hide if she sees something suspicious. She can’t see any people, but something sticks out through the railing two floors down. Quietly, she sneaks down the stairs. She stays far from the doors that lead into the other apartments. That’s another recurring nightmare. She can picture how a door is flung open and some creepy dude grabs hold of her. Angry for scaring herself, she hurries up. When she reaches the sixth floor, she sees a person lying down across the steps. The stench is worse here, and she swallows hard. It’s a man and she inches closer to look at his face. It’s nobody she knows. Taking a wide step to pass him, she holds on tight to the railing and keeps going.

On the fourth floor, two doors are wide open. One has obviously been forced open. The other one looks unharmed. Andrea doesn’t bother looking inside but keeps going down to the third floor. Two women, one young and one older, are curled up on the landing.

“Oh.” Andrea’s quiet moan is still too loud for the stairwell. She looks around, her heart thundering. Did anyone hear her? All she can hear is her pounding heart. She grips her bat hard and continues down to the second floor. A man stands in the doorway to tone of the apartments. He stares at Andrea as if she was a ghost.

“What the hell…?” The man looks to be the same age as Theo’s granddad, maybe seventy. Hard to tell. All old people look, well, old. He’s a bit bent over but is tall and burly. Looks strong. Please, God, don’t let her have to hit this man with her bat.

“Hi,” Andrea says. “How are you doing?”

“I thought I was alone here,” the man says and takes a few steps toward her.

“Stay where you are,” Andrea says and makes her voice hard. She doesn’t raise her bat but taps it on the floor. The sound reverberates throughout the floor.

“I mean you know harm,” the man says. “My names Dave.”

“Andy.”

“You live at the top floor, don’t you?” Dave frowns. “You and your brother. And your mom.” He looks apologetic. “I have too much time to sit around and look out the window. I haven’t seen you or the others in a long time. I thought it was just me left in the house.”

“You might be now. I’ve got to go.”

“Where are you off to?” Dave looks curious.

“Get Theo.” Andy doesn’t tell him where. “I need to get going.”

 
“Don’t stay out after dark.” Dave backs up into his apartment.

Andrea hesitates. “Do you have any food? I have some soup you can have.” Not so smart, perhaps, but Dave looks…well, shriveled.

Now Dave smiles and that changes his rather stern looking face. “Dear child. You will be mindful of the food you have left. Not waste it on an old geezer like me.” His accent, he sounds as if he’s from Brooklyn, gets more pronounced. “Take care, Andy. Swing that bat and ask questions later. Don’t trust anyone.”
“Okay. If I can make it back, could you perhaps help me bury my mom?”

Dave automatically raises his gaze to the ceiling. “If you come back and I’m still here, I’ll help you.”

“Thanks.” Andrea turns and rushes down the last set of stairs. When she reaches the entrance, she comes to a halt and makes sure it’s closed. She pulls at it. It’s locked. Good. Dave only has to worry about potential people still in the other apartments.

Andrea peers through the glass door. There’s nobody out there as far as she can see. She pressed the button that unlocks the door from inside, and it dawned on her that it operates on electricity. If the power is out, can a person get in at all—or out, when you can’t enter the code? Now she opens the door and steps outside. She stands pressed to the wall and listens. Not because the birds usually sing a ton time of year, but she can’t hear a thing. No engines, no chirping, no shouts, and of course, no kids playing in the playground.

Lengthening her strides, Andrea crosses the street to the other side. She takes a shortcut behind some buildings, protected by bushes, since she’s afraid to pass the square where the grocery store is located. Mostly she’s afraid of what she might see, and she can’t chance being out in the open more than is necessary. So far, she hasn’t met a single soul other than Dave. Survivors are keeping inside no doubt.

It takes Andrea half an hour to cross the first five blocks. She takes the steep road leading down toward the center of Remerton and stays away from the road where bushes and trees provide some protection at least. The cold weather stings her cheeks, but the jacket and het mittens keep her warm, and her beany hat too. The baseball bat gives her some confidence even if it feels heavier now that she’s carried it for a while. Mom used to say that even a tiny baby feels really heavy when you’ve carried it around to soothe it in the night. The thought of babies makes her think about when Mom brought home Theo from the hospital. Andrea was eight years old then, and she fell in love. She could sit with him for hours, and only reluctantly surrendered him when he was hungry or needed changing.

When Theo got older, and could move around the apartment, her interest dwindled some, but she still loved him. When he started daycare, it was harder for her than for Theo, who took to daycare like a duck to water.

Andrea stops. She hears a car engine. She throws herself into the ditch. Some bare bushes cover her somewhat. She hopes the approaching person is in a hurry and doesn’t expect to see anyone. Least of all a teenager with a bat.

It turns out to be an ambulance, but it’s not driving very fast. Instead, it seems to have some technical problems as it coughs uphill. Equally curious and afraid, Andrea studies the vehicle through thin branches. Should she make herself known? It’s an ambulance after all.

“Don’t trust anyone.” She can hear Dave’s friendly warning. That’s enough for Andrea. She remains still and figures whoever is driving the ambulance might have stolen it.

Suddenly the ambulance stops, and a man and a woman jump out. He from the driver’s seat, and she from the backdoor. She’s dressed in scrubs, but he’s not.
“I swear. He’s not breathing.” The woman sobs and backs away from the man.

“Hell! I told you to keep him alive. You’ve been sitting with him in the back this whole time. What the hell did you do?” The man grabs the woman by the arm and pulls her with him. He jumps halfway in through the back door and makes the ambulance rock. “He’s dead! This can’t be happening. How am I going to get ahold of the money now? Can you tell me that?”

“I don’t know anything about any money,” the woman yells. She sounds desperate now.

Andrea is trembling and wants to pull back, but she knows that the frozen grass makes too much noise.

“But you’re a damn nurse. You know how to keep people alive.” The man growls and shoves at the woman to enter through the passenger door in the front.

“No! I don’t want to. You have no use for me any longer. I can’t resurrect the dead. Surely you understand that?” Her voice is shrill, and the woman pulls to get away. “I have to get back to the emergency room. We have one functioning ward and—”

“I don’t give a damn!” The man grabs her shoulders and try to push her into the ambulance. “Stop resisting.”

Afterwards, Andrea’s not sure how it happened, but she suddenly stands about six feet behind the man and the woman. She can’t see any weapons on either of them.

“Let her go,” Andrea roars, so furious at how the man is treating the woman. She’s a nurse. Like Mom.

The man flinches and swivels on one foot so fast, he slips and has to brace himself against the passenger side door. The woman seizes the moment and backs away too. Wild-eyed, she stares at Andrea.

“Come over to me. If he tries to grab you, I’ll swing,” Andrea says to the woman, but doesn’t take her eyes off the man. She holds the bat steadily. Her mittens have some sort of faux leather on the inside, and that’s fortunate, or she might have dropped it.

The woman seems to weigh her options, but she quickly decides to side with Andrea. The man, who looks like he’s Antony’s age, makes a face when he puts weight on his right foot.

“Did you sprain it?” the woman askes, sounding out of breath. “Then take the ambulance and drive off. Leave us alone.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Andrea thinks quickly. If the man gets into the ambulance, he might just run them over from sheer anger. She’s seen enough movies with that kind of scenario at Molly’s house. “I suggest that we take the ambulance and drive back to the hospital. You’re just dressed in scrubs and it’s cold. He’s got a jacket. He can limp home.”

The woman blinks. “What? Are you serious?”

The man has overheard Andrea of course and begins to drag himself toward the hood to round the vehicle.

“Hurry!” Andra raises her bat and walks toward the man. “Back off. I said, back off!” She is wary of getting too close. The man is injured, but he can still take the bat from her. That can’t happen.

She sees out of the corner of her eye that the woman is in the driver’s seat. The man has discovered her too and is busy trying to limp back to the open passenger door. Andrea jumps in through the back door and tries to lock it but can’t figure it out.

“Drive. Drive!” She bangs at the partition between her and the woman. “We can close the passenger door later.”

The woman has started the engine and now steps on it. The ambulance launches forward and continues up the hill. Thought the rounded back windows, Andrea sees that the man has fallen and rolled toward the side of the road. When she turns around to sit down on the seat next to the gurney, she notices the older man strapped there for the first time. He’s pale and still, apart from shifting when the woman takes the curves too fast.

The ambulance slows down and a small window opens in the partition. “You can come around and sit in front now,” the woman says in a faint voice. “Oh, my God.”

Andrea jumps out and closes the back doors. Getting inside in the front, she closes the passenger door and then turns to the woman. “Hi.”

The woman looks at her with red-rimmed eyes. “Hi.”

“Don’t idle,” Andrea says and looks around. “Someone might have heard us. How do we lock the doors?”

“Like this.” The woman pushes a button on her door handle and there’s a small thud in Andrea’s door as well. “You can open from the inside, thought.”

Andrea relaxes for the first time since she left the apartment. “I’m Andy.”

“Mary.”

“Who was that nutcase?” Andrea points toward where they came from.

“A next of kins, I though, when he came into the clinic in a panic.” Mary drags her fingers through her strawberry blond hair. “He said that his father couldn’t’ breath and that he needed help getting him inside. It was my turn to help out, so I went with him. When I saw that they came via ambulance, I got suspicious, but when I questioned him about the drivers, he grabbed me and threw me in the back. Then he took off so fast, I couldn’t risk jumping out. Also, the man on the stretcher was still alive then, and…well, I’m a nurse. Everything happened so fast.”

“And then he died. The old man.”

The woman stays silent for a while and keeps a white-knuckled grip of the steering wheel. “I understood that when we had reached our destination, I would be abandoned, at best. Without a jacket or proper shoes, at that. Worst case scenario, the man who kidnapped me could easily kill me when I wasn’t of any use to him. I know that there’s only a handful of police officers left in the city, but I was a witness to his deeds all the same.”

A freezing cold drop of sweat ran down Andrea’s back. “So, you killed the old man in the back and started making a lot of noise.” She’s just guessing, but she doesn’t think she’s wrong. Carefully, she slides toward the door, increasing the space between her and the shocked woman, glad she didn’t buckle in.

“Yes,” May says simply. She casts a quick glance at Andrea, before she makes a turn toward the center of Remerton. “You don’t have to be afraid. I know what I did was wrong, but it was behind an old man, dying from the virus or something else, or me. I can be of use at work. Everyone in my family is gone, and doing the job is all I have left. We have an emergency ward that works reasonably well. All the other units are unusable. Too many dead—patients and staff alike. As long as we have power from the emergency generators, we will stay operational. “She overturns a long row of cars that are abandoned in the street. “Where are you headed?”

“You can drop me off at the mall just west of the hospital. Then you just have to go up the hill a few blocks.” Andrea’s not about to tell this stranger Antonio’s address.

“That’s still doable. Many streets are blocked, but the national guard managed to clear the streets from that square and up to the hospital before they got sick.”

They continue in silence. Andrea has one hand on the bat and the other around the door handle. If Mary gets it into her head that it’s time to kill her for some reason, she’ll be ready. She’ll hit May with the end of her bat and jump out.

They reach the square by the mall and Mary stops by the quiet fountain in the center. Andrea jumps out and stands indecisively at the open door. “Thanks for the lift,” she says, even if she thinks it sounds like a strange thing to say.

“I’m the one who should thank you. You saved my life.” Mary nods in a friendly way. She’s not as young as Andrea thought at first, but younger than Mom.
“No need for thanks.” Andrea grips the car door. “Pass it forward. Save someone else.”

“I will.” Mary looks around, her eyes nervously darting back and forth. “Don’t linger here too long. Keep moving, okay?”

“Okay.” Andrea closes the door and doesn’t wait around to watch Mary drive away. She hurries along the street that will take her to Antonio’s street, five blocks away. She knows she shouldn’t stay out in the open, but there are too many doors and windows on the buildings lining the street, where someone might reach out and grab her. She jogs along the meridian, trying to keep warm. Soon she’ll reach the uphill part of the street, and she’ll have to slow down. Taking out a piece of hard bread, she takes a bite. Rinsing it down with a few sips of water, she listens. It’s eerily quiet. A few engines at a distance, and somewhere the horn from a boat, which is to be expected as they’re close to the harbor, is all that slices through the silence.

She can’t see a single person. Are they all dead? Or ill? Or afraid to contract the virus? As long as Anthony and Theo are all right, nothing else matters.
Andrea reaches a small park area, and just as she gets ready to brave the uphill part of the street, someone begins to shoot.

Continued behind door 7

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