This is How We Die (Through the Chaos #1)

One

theo

“Here she comes again,” I said, holding off on making any sudden movements.

“The princess.” My neighbour wandered out onto the rooftop of our apartment building in Ivanhoe, Melbourne, a graceful blonde in black bike shorts and a formfitting tank.

Not a single glance in my direction—and she had to know I was here.

“Why do you call her that?” Mia asked.

I sank down further on the vinyl couch and rested my ankle on my opposite knee. “Because the only two words she’s ever said to me are excuse and me whenever we pass each other. She treats me like a peasant.”

An exaggeration, but still.

“Hmm,” Mia said. “Does she treat you like a peasant, or do you just feel like one around her?”

My sister loved deep diving into other people’s psyches, but the sun had only been up for an hour, and it was too early for a therapy session. “What difference does it make?”

“One says more about her, and the other says more about you. Did you upset her somehow? You can be a bit of a shit sometimes.”

“Me? We’ve never had a single conversation—and we’ve been neighbours for almost two years. Don’t you think that’s weird?”

“I think it’s a shock to your ego,” she said. “You’re not used to working this hard to get a woman’s attention,” Mia said, a smile in her voice. “Why don’t you tell me her actual name?”

I lowered my voice as the woman in question headed straight for the treadmill that Tim and Varesh, the husbands from level two, had brought up here for everyone to use. “It’s Sadie. Sadie Wentworth.”

Mia laughed. “Your voice changed when you said her name. That’s cute.”

I released a slow, patient breath. “You’d better calm down, Sissy. You read too many romance novels—and you’re reading too much into this situation.”

“Whatever you need to tell yourself,” she teased.

I blew out a sigh. “I’m gonna go now.”

“Nooo, don’t go. I’m bored. I need company.”

“Where’s Ruby?” I asked.

“She fell asleep on the couch.” Mia’s voice turned serious. “I think we’re about done with remote learning. Most of the kids in her class don’t even show up anymore. It’s depressing logging in for each lesson.”

I twirled a bead on the friendship bracelet my nine-year-old niece had sent me a couple of months ago, with the word funcle flanked by two pink love hearts.

“I don’t blame you,” I said, “and I wouldn’t stress.

If we make it through this shitshow, it won’t take her long to catch up on whatever she’s missing. ”

“You’re probably right—so, tell me more,” she cut in, apparently eager to get back to a more lighthearted topic. “What’s she doing now?”

“Who?”

“Princess Sadie.”

“I regret ever mentioning her to you,” I said. “She’s on the treadmill, running like she’s escaping demons.”

The rooftop was open on two sides, with a full ceiling and a TV mounted to the brick wall where the exercise equipment was set up. A twenty-four-hour news channel played on the screen, and Sadie faced the rolling coverage, shoulders relaxed and elbows bent at ninety-degree angles.

Her strides lengthened as she upped the speed, footsteps pounding, glutes… tensing.

I swallowed and looked away.

“Is anyone else out there?” Mia asked.

“Why? Are you cooking up some romantic scenario where she goes flying off the treadmill and lands on my—”

“Theo Alexander Bolton. Can she hear you? Be a gentleman.”

“She has headphones on, and I am a gentleman. I was going to say lap. You’re the one with the dirty mind.”

She huffed, part amused, part frustrated. “If I hadn’t seen firsthand how you grew up, I would have assumed you were raised by wolves. You’re so feral sometimes.”

“Getting back to the question,” I said, keeping my eyes anywhere but on Sadie, “why do you want to know if we’re alone?”

“I think you should put this silent beef behind you and go make friends with her.”

“Oh, you do, do you?” Sadie could barely make eye contact with me when I was on the other side of the room. If I walked over there and struck up a conversation with her, she’d have a heart attack or punch me in the balls. “Why?”

“All this sickness and loss is changing my view of the world. We don’t know how much time we’ve got left, and you’re stuck there together. Wouldn’t it feel less lonely if you had someone to talk to?”

“I’m not lonely.” I could call or text another resident for company anytime. It was physical touch I craved, and months without it had made me restless. “I’ve got Tim and Varesh. Laura, Owen, and their daughters. Then there’s the building manager.”

Seventeen people lived here before Ultimus. As of last week, the number was down to eight. Any day now, it could drop again.

“That’s not what I mean, Theo, and you know it.”

The building manager, Dustin Kerger, came outside right on cue. Sadie was the lightning, and he was the thunder. Whenever she appeared, I knew he wouldn’t be far behind.

He spared me a glance, his pinched features relaxing when he found me on the phone.

“I’ve really gotta go this time,” I said.

“What’s happening?”

“Kerger’s on the prowl,” I said as he approached the treadmill. “Always following the women around, and he’s partial to Sadie.”

He leaned one elbow on the handrail and rested his foot on the conveyor belt’s frame, launching into whatever reason he’d conjured up to intrude on her time.

My body turned rigid, my grip tightening on the phone.

Sadie pressed a button, and the treadmill slowed to walking pace. Breathing hard, she pulled her headphones down around her neck and leaned back a bit from Dustin.

“All right, I’ll let you go,” Mia said. “Talk soon?”

“Will do.” I ended the call and slipped my phone into my pocket, ready to protect a woman who barely acknowledged my existence.

My sneakers were soundless as I crossed the tiled floor, approaching Dustin from the side so he wouldn’t see me coming. For a lurker and borderline stalker, he was surprisingly jittery. “How’s it going, Kerger?”

He jerked and almost lost his balance. “Theodore,” he said, pushing his glasses back into place. “I’ve been meaning to speak to you. Your rent’s a month late. Keep this up, and you’re at risk of eviction.”

He always delivered his words like pompous little punches, but none ever landed. “It’s just Theo,” I reminded him, “and there’s a pandemic, Dustin. Everyone’s late paying rent.”

Sadie hit stop on the treadmill and exhaled through her nose. She shot me a glance and grabbed her towel, patting the perspiration off her skin.

Kerger swept his salt-and-pepper hair off his forehead, and his thin mouth lifted on one side.

“Doodling on people’s skin with needles didn’t turn out to be the smartest career move now, did it, Theo?

If you’d chosen a more valuable profession, you’d still have an income, and we wouldn’t be in this position now. ”

And I’d be exposed to the virus for hours at a time, day after day. No thanks.

I didn’t get the chance to respond, which was probably for the best.

“Hello, beautiful people—and Theo.” Laura, the dog groomer from apartment three, strolled outside in a burgundy hoodie and matching pants. “How’s everyone today?”

My shoulders loosened, and my smile came easily. “Same old, same old, just like your Crocs and socks ensemble.”

“Hey.” Her face broke into a grin as she sidled up next to me. She was tall for a woman, her dark blonde hair pulled into a clip, with a few stray wisps brushing her cheeks. “Show some respect. It’s lockdown chic.”

Laura exchanged a friendly hello with Sadie and a less amiable one with Dustin.

The four of us fell silent and took in the latest Ultimus update playing on the TV.

Cases were climbing at an alarming rate, and the time between infection and death continued to shorten. Now, there were reports of people being gone inside of forty-eight hours. It was grim. End-of-the-world grim.

“Did you see we have a ten percent chance of recovery now?” Laura said. “Ten. It’s basically a death sentence.”

Sadie nodded absently and draped her towel over the handrail, a report from a foreign correspondent grabbing her attention.

“I saw that when I was having breakfast,” I said.

Our chances were fifty percent at the beginning.

A couple of months in, they dropped to thirty.

By the time we got through the second wave—if we made it—I had a suspicion we’d be down to zero.

The only way to guarantee survival would be to stay away from anyone who showed even a hint of sickness, which was a fantastic fucking way of ramping up the paranoia.

After watching a stream of distressing footage from countries even worse off than us, Laura sighed long and loud. “Okay, this is awful. Nothing changes—not for the better, anyway.”

She gave me a pointed look and tilted her head in Sadie’s direction.

I nodded. We were all aware of Kerger’s behaviour, but other than throwing him off the roof, there wasn’t much we could do. The building owner hadn’t been contactable for weeks, and with no legal avenues to give him the boot, our only option was to keep a close eye on him.

He hadn’t moved from his original spot, but he’d gone back to staring at Sadie rather than the news. When his attention dropped to her breasts and lingered, my jaw clenched. “Something you want, Kerger?”

His features tightened. “Why do you ask?”

“You’re hovering around like a fly.”

“Why would my movements be of any concern to you?” He appealed to Sadie, but she was too engrossed in a report coming out of America to care.

“Just curious,” I said, “and bored.”

The gears were turning behind his eyes. His skin turned a mottled red, and my heart pumped a slow, steady rhythm while I waited for his next move. Even someone as self-important as Dustin had to know he’d been backed into a corner.

“This is a communal space,” he said. “One I can shut down any time, I might add. It would behoove you to remember that.”

I gave him a quick grin to get under his skin. “Consider me behooved.”

Laura snorted.