Chapter 17
The alert chimed as Charlotte was halfway up the Walkers’ driveway, a sound she was starting to dread.
She pulled out her phone while balancing the package under her arm.
The screen showed the same red text, but still with no explanation for the dying plants, the military aircraft, or the school closures.
She continued to the porch, where Mrs. Walker was waiting with her phone in hand and frustration on her face.
“Another one?” Mrs. Walker asked. “That’s the third today, and they still haven’t said what we’re supposed to be worried about. Air quality? What does that even mean?”
Charlotte handed over the package and nodded. “I know. It’s been the same message since yesterday. Stay inside, keep the windows closed, avoid travel.”
“It’s ridiculous. My sister in Virginia says they’re getting the same alerts, but no one’s explaining why. They can’t tell people to hide in their houses without saying what they’re hiding from.”
“I’m sure they’ll tell us more when they know. These things take time.”
“Time is exactly what we might not have. My husband thinks it’s connected to what’s happening overseas with the SNA. He says it’s too much of a coincidence that they pulled back just as these alerts started.”
“I should finish my route,” Charlotte said. “I’ve only got a few more stops.”
“Be careful out there,” Mrs. Walker said. “Whatever this is, it isn’t over yet.”
Charlotte went back to her truck, checked her phone, and then pulled away.
There were no new messages from Sophia or her parents.
Her next stops followed the same pattern.
Curtains were drawn, conversations happened through cracked doors, and every question led nowhere.
At the Morris house, the family was loading suitcases into their car.
“Heading out?” Charlotte asked.
“We are,” Mrs. Morris said. “My sister has a place in the Poconos, so we figured we’d wait this out there.”
“It’s probably nothing,” her husband said. “We’re just being cautious.”
His expression gave him away. Charlotte had seen that same worry on faces all day.
People were making decisions based on what this might become, not on anything they knew.
As Charlotte pulled away, her phone chimed again.
Another alert appeared, worded a little differently, and the change sent a chill through her.
She turned onto Maple Street, the last part of her route. Three houses stood between her and home. The first house was dark, with no response to her knock. Charlotte left the mail and moved on to the next house, where an elderly man sat on the porch with a radio in his lap.
“Afternoon,” the man called. “You’re a brave one, being out today. My son was a carrier for thirty years. He said it was the best job he ever had, watching the neighborhood change one delivery at a time.”
Charlotte nodded. “It has its moments.”
“It sure does,” the man said. “Did you hear the latest? My daughter in Maryland says they’ve got roadblocks on the highways. The National Guard is checking IDs and turning people back.”
“I hadn’t heard that,” Charlotte said. “Just the alerts about staying inside.”
“They’re not telling us everything,” the man said. “Have you noticed how the plants are looking? My tomatoes have been growing in the same spot for twenty years, and now they’re all withered as if something burned them. It’s all down the street. Something’s happening to the air.”
Charlotte nodded. The dying plants were the first concrete sign that the alerts were responding to something real. “I should finish my route. I’ve got one more stop, then I’m heading home.”
“Probably for the best,” the man said.
The last house on Maple Street belonged to the Blanchette family. In the front yard, Mei-Ling tenderly watered the plants, which mirrored the same troubling distress that had weighed heavily on Charlotte’s heart all day.
“Any word?” Mei-Ling asked. “My husband’s been checking online all day, but it’s the same story. Stay inside, keep the windows closed, and avoid travel. Nothing about why or how long.”
“Nothing new,” Charlotte said. “Just more of the same alerts.”
As if the conversation had summoned it, Charlotte’s phone chimed again. Another alert flashed across the screen, more urgent than the others. Mei-Ling’s phone chimed a moment later. Then Charlotte’s did. More alerts followed in rapid succession.
“What’s happening?” Mei-Ling asked. “Why are they doing this?”
The alerts stopped as abruptly as they had begun, leaving a silence that felt wrong. Charlotte tried to call Sophia, but the call wouldn’t connect. She tried again with the same result. There was no signal and no way to reach the people she loved.
“Can you call out?” Charlotte asked.
“Nothing’s going through,” Mei-Ling said. “It’s like the network’s down or something worse is happening.”
She didn’t need to say more. First, the plants, then the alerts, and the communications failure. With every development, the distance between precaution and emergency kept shrinking.
“I should go,” Charlotte said. “My daughter’s at home with my parents, and I need to get back.”
“Be careful. Whatever this is, it’s moving fast now.”
Charlotte was already halfway to her truck, watching for a signal to return. One bar appeared, vanished, then flickered back. The alerts started again, more slowly, as if whatever had disrupted the network were easing. She climbed into the driver’s seat and pulled away from the curb.