Chapter 1
CHAPTER ONE
San Francisco
Pitch black.
I sit up and then stumble out of bed and walk to the window.
Moving my drapes back, I can see my reflection in the glass thanks to the moonlight I look tired with my thick hair hanging half out of its top knot, sweatshirt crumpled and sweatpants pushed up to my knees.
I’m so pale that I look like a ghost in the darkness surrounding me.
The solar lights on my sidewalk are the only glow that I can see on my street.
My house sits on an angle which affords me a view of the bay, a tiny view but a view none the lessWhen I look down into the San Francisco Bay, all I see is darkness.
Sporadic lights dot here and there but nothing like the usual nightlights of the city.
I pull my drapes closed, and I make my way around the dark house to the kitchen so I can get a different view out my back window.
I can see the south tower of the Golden Gate Bridge from the window above my sink.
It’s then that I realize I’m staring at more blackness in the night.I become increasingly alarmed.
January has brought heavy rainstorms and high winds to the area.
Maybe that’s what caused the power to go out?
I use the light on my phone to walk back to the front of the house to find the television remote.
The news will tell me what’s going on in the city.
I’m banking it’s been a windstorm or the usual low-grade earthquake that will wreak havoc on all our day.
Now that I think of it, maybe that’s what woke me up to begin with.
I press the power button on the remote and nothing happens.
I turn the remote over, pop the backing off and roll the batteries.
I press the power button again and nothing.
I huff out a frustrated sigh, pointing the remote to the television one last time and having it do nothing in return.
I’m tired, cold and intrigued about the status of my lights and my phone.
I walk to the breaker box and check my fuses.
They are all in working order, nothing amiss so I decide it’s got to be a power outage debate going back to bed, but I know I won’t fall asleep.
I’ll just end up laying there staring at the ceiling.
I go to my kitchen counter where I left my watch the night before, and it tells me it’s 4:44 a.m. At least something is still working around here.
Making my way over to my desk, I try my laptop, and find that it too has no connection to the network.With no options of entertainment in the house, I put on my running clothes and lace up my shoes.
I’ll start this year off productive by working out, actually accomplish one of the resolutions that I set out to do this year- get fit I’ll even impress my family when I tell them I got up to do an early run before today’s predicted rain.
They might surprise me and even cheer on my enthusiasm.
One thing is for certain, they’ll all be shocked that I was up before dawn.
I shut my front door and lock it behind me.
I secure my house key around my wrist and draw my hood tight around my head.
The wind is strong and already threatening to blow it off.
I start to run downhill and as I do I realize all the houses in my neighborhood are dark.
Apparently, all of Russian Hill has lost their lights and power.
I start making my way around the streets in search of a better view of the bridge.
Surely they wouldn’t have drivers going across it in this darkness.
In my short time living here, I’ve never seen the bridge’s lights off.
But then again, I don’t just sit around and stare at it either.
I’m sure they have a backup generator for storms and earthquakes- some contingency plan for power outtages and earthquakes
As I run towards a better view, I think about the first few runs that I did here.
Each run helping me learn the layout of my neighborhood and new city.
Runs exactly like his early morning help me learn the city and surrounding neighborhoods when the streets are empty and I can take it all in with little distractionsWhen my parents bought me the house, I was overwhelmed.
I had never lived on my own before, and here I was moving across the country, out of the Dome, to the west coast. I had just turned eighteen years old and it was only my second time to my new city, my new hometown when I unlocked the door to my new home.
My parents told me it would be a learning experience.
A good place to spend my year of self-reflection.
They told me I would be safe here and that I’d meet new people and could figure out what I wanted to do with my life since I had decided not to go to college.
I flew straight into the city and arrived a day before my things.
The first night I slept on the hard wood floor.
It felt like camping…or at least what I think camping feels like since I’ve never actually camped.
Looking back now, it’s hard to believe that was six months ago.
Half my year of reflection is gone, and I’m no closer to understanding what I’d like to do or who I want to be in this world.
You should have seen the way my parents rushed me out the door and onto the plane.
It was as if I was a criminal seeking asylum.
I’d only left the Dome a few times growing up; it was always on Government sponsored trips from my parents work and usually to only surrounding areas on the east coast.
As much as I hate to admit it, my parents were right though about it being a learning experience.
I’ve learned a lot about myself the last six months.
For one, I’m a loner. I’m one of those people that never want to leave their house for anything.
Ihave everything shipped or delivered into me.
I don’t want to interact with people that I don’t know and since I know no one out here, that would be everyone.
On my first solo outing into the city, everyone could tell I wasn’t from here.
I stuck out like a sore thumb. From the way I dressed and the way I talked and interacted with people.
Most people thought I was a tourist and the other half seemed annoyed with me once I opened my mouth to speak with my accent quickly giving me away.
I think I answered twenty times in a day the questionwhere are you from?
When I’d respond to them the Dome, I’d get looks of disgust, get turned away, even screamed at I quickly learned to lie or not answer at all.
I still get the questions if I venture outbut not on these runs.
No one bothers you when you’re running. Plus there’s usually no one else out to bother me at this time.
I turn another corner and get my first real look of the bridge.
It stops me dead in my tracks, my arms falling to my sides and my mouth gapping open in shockHalf of the bridge is gone, sinking into the bay and the other half is jutting out of the water.
Car after car is piled up on the bridge, slowly sinking and falling into the water The lights coming from the cars and the flames are the only things that illuminate the scene.
I hear an explosion off in the distance, and the blast makes me jump.
I see a giant fireball climbs the sky. Then a car catches on fire, the fuel leaving a fire trail in the water.
For a split second after the blast, I can see more of the bridge in front of me.
I wonder where are the police or the fire fighters?
I don’t know if I should keep running or turn around.
The bridge looks close, but it is far away.
I wouldn’t be of any help, even if I ran all the way down to it.
I take off running as fast as I can getting further around the block, the sound of another blast has my ears ringing, making my mind up for me I turn and run towards my house.
I must get home because something horrendous has happened for the iconic bridge to be in such a state with no signs of help.
I look at my watch for a time check. It’s 5:15 a.m., and the sun won’t start coming up for at least another full hour.
I begin to run as fast as I can toward home… my safe haven.
I continue running, and continue to hear more explosions, and the ground shakes beneath my feet.
I’m running up hill as fast as I can, sweat pouring down my face matting my hair against my forehead.
Pure adrenaline is what’s keeping my legs going.
They’re tired, and I’m trying to cover too much distance in a short time.
I can see my house, up the hill in the distance, which gives me some comfort.
I’m so close but so far. I sprint to my front door and pull the keychain from around my wrist. It’s then that I realize my hands are shaking as I try to get the key into my lock.
I have to try to get the key in not once but twice before I step inside and lock the door behind me.
I feel safer now that I’m indoors. I know that I might not really be safe but it gives me enough of an illusion that I’m able to calm down my racing heart.
I need to find out what’s happening. This feels like a nightmare.
I find mymy phone, and the message is still on display: Network Not Connected.
I try the television and my computer once more.
No luck, nothing is working. I’m racking my brain, trying to figure out what to do.
I have no access to any outside news. I have no clue what is going on and I know that something is definitely happening.
Sunlight is starting to slowly creep up on the city so the house isn’t in complete darkness.
What little safety I felt being inside is starting to disappear with the tremors from the ground and the loud explosions going off in the distance.
The television pops on with the emergency broadcast beacon scaring the shit out of me.
Illuminating the room in a yellow hue coming from the screen background.
The beacon continues to beep, and the screen reads:
EMERGENCY: DEVASTATION SWEEPS AMERICA.
Residents encouraged to seek shelter and remain calm.
That’s all the screen contains and before I can read it again the screen goes black and the power goes off.
The ground shakes so hard, photographs on my wall begin to crash to the ground shattering the glass on contact.
Screw the message there is no calm. I bet everyone in the neighborhood is awake now.
How can anyone remain calm through the tremors, let alone after reading that message?
I need to get a hold of my mom or my dad or just anyone that I know but if I can get ahold of my mother shehe can tell me what the hell is going on.
How can I reach her with no phone or internet?