“Oh, sothat’swhat the noise was.” She lifted her head long enough to smile at me, then lowered it again. A quiet moment passed before she asked, “What about your parents?”
“My dad lives a couple of hours away on an olive farm. My mum…” I ran my hand through my hair and rested my arm behind my head. “She died of cancer five years ago.”
“Oh. I’m sorry.” Sadie touched her fingertips to my forearm, just for a second, but it was enough. “I didn’t know,” she said, easing her hand back. “I’ve been curious about a lot of things with you.”
“You didn’t have to stay away from me.” I gave the top of her head an affectionate pat. “I wish youhadn’tstayed away from me.”
With a vague smile, she went silent for a minute. “If I’d tried being friends with you when I first moved into the building, we might not have been talking anymore. I wasn’t in the best place.”
No wonder. I’d had my share of problems after losing my mum, but Sadie’s were next level. Both parents gone. Betrayed by her boyfriend. Then straight into a world altering pandemic.
The pieces suddenly lined up, her inheritance, her proximity when Dustin mentioned my rent. My stomach dipped, and I froze. “Wait. Are you the one who paid my—”
“Did you see that?” ABreaking Newsbanner on the TV snatched her attention. She grabbed the remote and pumped up the volume, staring so intently at the screen, I let it go.
A woman barely out of her teens sat behind the news desk, as if they’d run out of seasoned reporters and put the work experience kid in charge.
She stumbled over her words, trying to keep her voice steady as she detailed a fight that had broken out in a sporting goods store in the city. The shaky mobile phone footage showed a group of men who hadn’t played sports in decades fighting over baseball bats and cricket bats. The violence escalated, and two of them lost their lives, beaten to death by the others.
Beaten. To death.
That kind of shit didn’t happen here.
“You were right,” I said. “People are getting ready.”
We were in worse shape than ever, even compared to Covid times. Soon enough, we’d have armed patrols roaming the streets.
“I’m kicking myself for not stockpiling more supplies,” Sadie said, her thoughts heading down the same track as mine. “The camping tools were too little, too late. We need canned food. Long-life milk. Toiletries. I should have been all over this months ago.”
“We all should have.” I rubbed my hands down my face and sighed. “Anyone who planned and prepped for this was either paranoid or had a sixth sense we’re apparently missing.”
The two of us went quiet as an on-scene reporter gestured toward a pool of blood outside the store, like we needed a visual representation of death when we were surrounded by it every day.
“We can’t go out alone anymore. Or stay out for long,” Sadie said, distracted. “Everyone needs to pair up or leave in bigger groups.”
She was talking like we were in the middle of an apocalypse. “It wouldn’t hurt to take precautions,” I said, “even if it’s an isolated incident.”
But there’d been too many isolated incidents. We’d seen the fire at the outdoors store, and Dustin’s behaviour had gone downhill during lockdown. We’d never know what it would take to break him, or what he’d do when it happened.
“It’s changing.” Sadie shifted her head, her concern setting off a wave of unease inside me. “If we like it or not, it’s never going to be the same again.”
As much as I wanted to tell her otherwise, I couldn’t deny the truth. The world had shifted on its axis, and it would be years before we returned to anything resembling normal—if we ever got there at all. “It’s not too late to prep,” I said. “We just need to be strategic and keep everyone safe.”
She sat up and manoeuvred herself into a cross-legged position. “We should kick it off by going through the empty apartments and collecting all the packaged food left behind. No one’s done that yet, have they?”
I shook my head. It was a smart idea. Around a third of the residents had died in the early days before we’d experienced any supply shortages, so there was a good chance they’d have non-perishables in their cupboards.
“We don’t know much longer online banking will keep working,” she said, “and there’s no cash in the ATMs. At least we can gather food in the building.”
Both our phones buzzed at the same time. I frowned and checked my messages, finding a text from Owen.
We’ll be on the rooftop for the announcement if you want to join us.
“We can watch it together and figure out our next move,” I said to Sadie as I texted him back.
She nodded with a faraway look in her eyes. “I thought it might be Ava, but this is fine, too. At least it feels like we’re doing something.”
And that was all we needed. A plan. A purpose.
