Chapter 2
By midnight, I could see eight emergency vehicles from my apartment window.
Not directly below me.
Farther away.
I'd turned off the documentary, and the apartment felt different without it.
Too quiet.
I watched red and blue lights flash beyond the neighboring buildings.
Two ambulances entered the complex across the road. One stopped near the leasing office; the other continued around the back.
A black SUV pulled out fast, braked hard at the stop sign, and turned right. Two more cars followed within thirty seconds. That caught my attention.
Patterns.
My phone was suddenly full of them too: local posts, scanner summaries, rumors, videos.
Most contradicted each other.
There had been a mass stabbing. Or several unrelated assaults. Someone had driven into a crowd. A patient at St. Agnes attacked a nurse. Police had shot somebody downtown—or hadn't. The hospital was locked down—or wasn't.
I opened the local news site. The lead story was still a city council vote from that afternoon. Nothing useful.
My phone buzzed again.
This time it was my mother.
Everything okay there? Seeing strange stuff online.
I called instead of texting.
She answered on the second ring.
"Hey."
"You awake?"
"It's midnight."
"Which means yes?"
She laughed softly.
My parents lived northwest of the city, far enough out that their nearest neighbor wasn't visible from the house. They were still within half an hour of a grocery store.
"You seeing all this?" she asked.
"Kind of."
"What is it?"
"No idea."
"Your aunt sent me a video."
"Everybody's sending videos."
"This one looked awful."
"That's generally why people send them."
"Gabe."
"I'm fine."
"I didn't ask if you were fine."
"You were going to."
She paused.
"Are there police by you?"
"Across the road. Ambulances too."
"Why?"
"I don't know."
"Maybe you should stay inside."
"I am inside."
"Good."
I looked out the window.
Another car left my lot.
"Anything on the news?"
"Nothing useful."
"Then it's probably local."
"Maybe."
There was concern in her voice, but my parents weren't panickers. They gathered information and tried not to do anything stupid. I had probably inherited that.
"Lock your door," she said.
"It's locked."
"And if something actually is happening, call before you do anything dumb."
"I will."
"Goodnight."
"Night."
I hung up.
Then checked the deadbolt and chain anyway. Both locked.
I went back to the window. The second ambulance across the road sat motionless for several minutes, lights flashing, with nobody getting in or out.
Why hasn't the ambulance left?
I checked the time.
12:07.
I went to the kitchen and filled my water bottle.
Then another.
There was no particular reason.
I set both on the counter.
At 12:12, the power flickered.
Just once.
Both monitors went black and the refrigerator stopped humming. Four or five seconds later, everything returned.
I stood completely still.
"Oh, come on."
Nothing else happened.
The lights stayed on.
Internet still worked.
I opened a traffic map.
There was heavy congestion downtown.
Several streets around Rothwell were red.
One section of interstate was yellow.
At midnight.
That was strange.
I zoomed out.
A crash near the east Beltline.
Another near St. Agnes.
Another at the north interchange.
Three separate accidents could happen. Everything could still be explained individually.
That was becoming the problem.