Mae
JesseJ
Snowdrops
EricWald
Carlyle
PapaOso
webboysurf
Lildear18
KingOfNowhere
clanjosDay 4: September 15, 2024
Annie King had never spent such an extended time either inside her apartment or on her lonesome, let along both. It had been 72 hours since the world went dark, and she hadn't left her apartment. People had knocked on her door more than a dozen times, in the beginning simply to check on her welfare. She'd told those she knew that she was fine; the others, some of whom had tried the knob, she'd ignored.
Life inside was becoming unbearable. She was about to run out of bottled water. There was no water at the tap, of course. The toilets ceased working as soon as the pressure from the rooftop tank had ceased. Annie had anticipated this, of course, and as gross as it was had been pooping into a variety of sealable containers and setting them out on the balcony.
For the past three days, Annie had prioritized her diet to consume as much of the fresh and perishable food as possible before it went bad. She'd always shopped on or had food delivered on nearly a daily basis, so there wasn't really much to go bad quickly anyway. That was the good news. The bad news was that now, three days later, her cupboards were nearly empty.
She looked to the master key in her hand. She'd gotten it from the doorman's desk that first day to gain access to the stairwell and return to her apartment. She hadn't taken it for any other purpose, certainly not for gaining access to the homes of her neighbors. But she was running out of options. She was out of water and nearly out of food.
From the level of silence recently, Annie believed that most if not all of her neighbors on the 42nd floor had left their homes and their city. It was getting late in the afternoon, meaning only a few more hours of natural light. If she was going to do this today, she had to do it now.
Moving slowly and quietly, she entered the hallway and made her way to 4212, the home of the Fords. She'd been sociable with Frank and Carol, meaning she doubted they would kill her on the spot as an intruder or looter. Still, she knocked softly, then louder, then spoke their names before using the master key. It work, allowing Annie to turn the lock and pushed the door slowly open.
There was no chain, meaning she doubted that they were home. Still, she called their names again, then louder as she entered and closed the door behind her. She took a long while simply to listen for signs of the Fords. Nothing. Again, nothing. From the signs of things, they'd packed in a hurry to get outta Dodge.
Annie began poking about for things of interest or of use. The Fords had been can and box eaters, so Annie was delighted to find their cupboards filled with processed foods. She reeled back at the smell of the spoiled meat in the fridge and freezer, closing both quickly and reminding herself not to go there again.
Over the next hour or more, she hauled anything and everything edible from the Fords back to her place. Then, she went on the search for something very different: Frank Ford's gun. The very macho Frank had shown the pistol to Annie once, showing off. It had been big and scary to her, and when offered a chance to hold it, she'd passed. But now, with the situation as it was, Annie would have loved to have the weapon, just in case. But the search was to no avail. Annie found the gun case laying open on Frank's desk, empty as could be.
She closed and locked her condo door behind her, then popped open a can of chili with beans and ate the whole thing while staring out on the city from her balcony. There were still fires burning in every direction, the result she assumed from the pillaging and rioting. What was going to become of her beloved city? What was to become of her less-beloved species? Down there on the streets, people were presumably killing one another over the most basic of things, food and water amongst them.
It was the end of life as Annie had known it.
Annie King had never spent such an extended time either inside her apartment or on her lonesome, let along both. It had been 72 hours since the world went dark, and she hadn't left her apartment. People had knocked on her door more than a dozen times, in the beginning simply to check on her welfare. She'd told those she knew that she was fine; the others, some of whom had tried the knob, she'd ignored.
Life inside was becoming unbearable. She was about to run out of bottled water. There was no water at the tap, of course. The toilets ceased working as soon as the pressure from the rooftop tank had ceased. Annie had anticipated this, of course, and as gross as it was had been pooping into a variety of sealable containers and setting them out on the balcony.
For the past three days, Annie had prioritized her diet to consume as much of the fresh and perishable food as possible before it went bad. She'd always shopped on or had food delivered on nearly a daily basis, so there wasn't really much to go bad quickly anyway. That was the good news. The bad news was that now, three days later, her cupboards were nearly empty.
She looked to the master key in her hand. She'd gotten it from the doorman's desk that first day to gain access to the stairwell and return to her apartment. She hadn't taken it for any other purpose, certainly not for gaining access to the homes of her neighbors. But she was running out of options. She was out of water and nearly out of food.
From the level of silence recently, Annie believed that most if not all of her neighbors on the 42nd floor had left their homes and their city. It was getting late in the afternoon, meaning only a few more hours of natural light. If she was going to do this today, she had to do it now.
Moving slowly and quietly, she entered the hallway and made her way to 4212, the home of the Fords. She'd been sociable with Frank and Carol, meaning she doubted they would kill her on the spot as an intruder or looter. Still, she knocked softly, then louder, then spoke their names before using the master key. It work, allowing Annie to turn the lock and pushed the door slowly open.
There was no chain, meaning she doubted that they were home. Still, she called their names again, then louder as she entered and closed the door behind her. She took a long while simply to listen for signs of the Fords. Nothing. Again, nothing. From the signs of things, they'd packed in a hurry to get outta Dodge.
Annie began poking about for things of interest or of use. The Fords had been can and box eaters, so Annie was delighted to find their cupboards filled with processed foods. She reeled back at the smell of the spoiled meat in the fridge and freezer, closing both quickly and reminding herself not to go there again.
Over the next hour or more, she hauled anything and everything edible from the Fords back to her place. Then, she went on the search for something very different: Frank Ford's gun. The very macho Frank had shown the pistol to Annie once, showing off. It had been big and scary to her, and when offered a chance to hold it, she'd passed. But now, with the situation as it was, Annie would have loved to have the weapon, just in case. But the search was to no avail. Annie found the gun case laying open on Frank's desk, empty as could be.
She closed and locked her condo door behind her, then popped open a can of chili with beans and ate the whole thing while staring out on the city from her balcony. There were still fires burning in every direction, the result she assumed from the pillaging and rioting. What was going to become of her beloved city? What was to become of her less-beloved species? Down there on the streets, people were presumably killing one another over the most basic of things, food and water amongst them.
It was the end of life as Annie had known it.