Three
sadie
When I found Tim and his husband, Varesh, outside, I breathed a sigh. “Hi, you two.”
“Morning.” Varesh stood in front of the television, arms crossed, feet planted wide apart. He was a head taller than Tim, with brown skin and unruly dark hair. “I haven’t seen you in a couple of days,” he said, the lean muscles from his long-distance running flexing under his t-shirt.
“I keep missing you,” I said. “Whenever I come up here, someone always tells me you’ve just left.”
“Sadie, my love.” Tim moved a novel from the spot beside him and patted the couch cushion in invitation. His ginger hair was freshly buzzed, his beard trimmed since the last time I saw him. “Where’s your book?”
“Finished it late last night.” I wandered over to the seating area to join him.
When we all agreed enforced lockdowns were imminent, a few of us had dragged a second-hand vinyl couch and mustard yellow armchairs up the stairs, along with a coffee table that had lived several lives.
I kept my tea steady and lowered myself into the space Theo had occupied a few days ago.
“Better watch out,” Varesh said, adjusting his black-framed glasses. “You’ll be running out of reading material soon, and the library’s a no-go zone.”
With a testing sip of my tea, I leaned forward and slid the mug onto the coffee table. “I should use my e-reader while we’ve still got electricity and switch to physical books when it disappears.”
Tim linked his hands on top of his head and stretched out his legs, jeans straining across his thighs. “You think it’s heading that way, too? Varesh is predicting an apocalypse.”
“I'm exaggerating—I think. I can’t imagine it going that far, but… it’s not looking good.
” I twisted my mother’s sapphire engagement ring on my right hand, a habit I hadn’t been able to break since I first slipped it on my finger.
“Every time I try to talk to Ava, the line drops out or texts don’t get delivered. ”
My sister was obsessed with American TV shows and movies that revolved around the supernatural, and it had been her lifelong dream to tour the places where her favourites were filmed.
She’d been on the home stretch of a three-month-long trip when the first cases of the virus were detected. Now she was stuck there indefinitely.
Tim was about to speak when the door swung open, and Dustin came outside to join us.
I mentally groaned and sat up straighter, thoughts of Ava vanishing. Theo’s warning lingered in the back of my mind, and part of me wished he’d never brought it up.
“Watch out,” Tim said under his breath. “Lord Kerger’s here. Don’t forget to curtsey.”
I forced a smile, but I didn’t have it in me to pretend anymore.
“Dustin,” Varesh said in greeting.
No response, which meant Dustin must have graced him with one of his regal nods rather than wasting words.
He moved into my peripheral vision, feigning interest in the view over the brick wall. The fleeting image of him toppling over and free falling hit me; then I shook it off and reminded myself I didn’t want him dead. I just wanted him away from me—permanently.
I reached for my mug again, sharing a glance with Tim as the steam curled before my eyes.
“This presenter looks like he’s been dragged through a hedge backwards,” Varesh said. “They must be grabbing people off the streets and forcing them behind the desk now—and check out the lighting in the studio. It’s a complete shambles.”
“It’s the beginning of the end.” Dustin wandered closer, and the hair on the back of my neck prickled. “When society collapses, masks won’t stay in place for long,” he said, “and then you’ll see what people have been hiding behind their facades.”
Facades? The collapse of society? Just when I thought he couldn’t get any stranger. I pulled my cardigan tighter, unsure if I was reacting to the temperature or his words.
Varesh gave Dustin a dose of side eye over his shoulder, but chose not to comment.
“Some have already shown their true selves,” Dustin added, “and I have to say, I’m surprised and disappointed with what I’ve seen.”
“Want to share with the class what you’re on about?” Tim asked.
Dustin huffed, as if we were too stupid to understand. “You’ll find out soon enough.”
I sensed the weight of his gaze, but if his comment had been meant for me, I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of responding.
Instead, I sipped my tea and focused on the news, hoping for a sign from overseas that might ease my worries. The story was closer to home, though—just a ten-minute drive away.
A reporter stood outside Parliament House on Spring Street, wearing a hairnet and protective jumpsuit.
She relayed details of a meeting rumoured to be taking place in the next day or two, with the focus on tightening restrictions.
The thought of losing what little freedom we had left made my stomach churn.
We barely had anything to take. A half hour of exercise.
The privilege of buying food within a two-hour window twice a week.
What else could they do? Put ankle monitors on us?
“Just you watch,” Varesh said. “A couple of days after they talk, they’ll call a press conference to tell us we can’t exercise outdoors anymore. When they do, people are going to protest or riot. No ifs or buts. Everyone’s already on edge.”
A frisson of awareness moved through me as I stared at the reporter. We’d been hanging in there, following rules, waiting, hoping. People were generally being decent, but it had already started falling apart in other countries, and we would be far behind them.
What if this was the tipping point?
If Varesh’s prediction came true, we weren’t prepared in the slightest. I had a week’s worth of food at most. No spare batteries or cold weather gear if the heating gave out—and we were heading into winter.
Why weren’t we gathering supplies, even if we didn’t have to use them?
I checked my watch. Today was one of our two allotted shopping days, and our window ended in an hour.
“Anyone want to come to Schultz Outdoors?” I asked. The store was only a short drive away, and although it didn’t stock as big a range as the massive chains, it had everything we needed—or might need. It would be a start.
“For what?” Tim asked.
I swallowed a mouthful of tea and rattled off the first items that came to mind.
“A solar power bank and a first-aid kit. Snow jackets for if the power goes out.” When I pictured angry crowds, flares and projectiles, I added, “Knives? Weapons? I don’t know.
I’ll figure the rest out when I get there. ”
“Weapons?” Varesh’s gaze snapped in my direction. “Sadie, what are you planning?”
“I don’t have any plans,” I said, “but we’re just sitting here day after day, waiting for it to get better. The meeting could change everything, and I want to buy what I might need now. When everyone else is reacting later, it’s going to be chaos.”
“When you say reacting, you’re thinking of riots?“ Tim shifted in his seat and stretched his arm along the backrest, his tone more curious than concerned.
“It’s not like it hasn’t happened before,” Varesh said.
No one had uttered a single concern I’d consider far-fetched.
This time last year, it would have sounded crazy, but control was an illusion based on how well the population behaved.
If we collectively stopped toeing the line, life as we knew it would be over.
“This is just a precaution to make sure we aren’t blindsided,” I said. “If we’re lucky, nothing happens.”
“It makes sense,” Tim said reluctantly.
Dustin may not have been contributing to our conversation, but I could have sworn there was a gleam in his eye as he took it all in.
“Well, what do you think?” I finished the last swallow of tea, conscious of the need to get moving. “Anyone coming with me?” If we missed our time slot, we’d have to wait another three days, and who knew how much would change in the meantime.
“Fine, but only for company,” Tim said. “We’re out of money for anything other than the essentials.”
My phone hadn’t buzzed once since I’d been out here, but I pulled it from my pocket and checked for messages anyway. “I can cover it as long as I’m able to tap and pay,” I said, looking at Tim. Then another thought occurred. “Maybe I should withdraw cash just in—”
“Adults should be self-sufficient,” Dustin cut in, his words laced with contempt, “not rely on others to keep them afloat financially.”
Realisation swept over me, and I tucked my phone away again. He must have seen the email explaining Theo’s rent payment. Too bad. Now he’d lost his only leverage, and he couldn’t belittle or badger Theo for at least a month.
I ignored him and focused on Tim and Varesh. “Are you both coming, or just one of you?”
“I’ll keep you company,” Varesh volunteered.
“Great.” I rose from the couch with my empty mug. “I’ll go get organised. Meet you in the foyer in ten?”
He nodded and gave Dustin a long appraisal. “I’ll come down with you.”
I pulled my apartment door shut and dropped the keys into my crossbody bag, my mood buoyed by the thought of taking off with Varesh for an hour.
With a face mask tucked under my chin, I turned and nearly collided with Dustin. Not a word, not a sound. Just materialising out of nowhere like a damn ghost.
With a sharp cry, I stumbled backward and knocked my elbow against the doorjamb. “God. Please don’t sneak up on me like that.”
My heart clanged in my chest, and I listened out for sounds of others nearby. The two of us were alone in the hallway, with only the thud of Theo’s music next door for company.
“I can assure you I wasn’t sneaking.” Dustin’s gaze slithered down my body, and distaste passed over his features. “I came to let you know I received your most recent payment.”
“Oh, good.” With a grimace, I rubbed my elbow and played along. “Now you don’t need to chase Theo up anymore.”