Chapter 11
That was the first major decision I made that night.
Not immediately.
Daylight.
Roughly two hours.
The apartment remained safe.
The building did not.
That distinction had become impossible to ignore.
If violent people—or dead people, or whatever they were—were moving around the second floor and emergency services weren't coming, staying indefinitely meant depending on one locked door and luck.
The power could fail. Someone could open an exterior entrance or start a fire. An infected person could reach our floor. The stairwells could become blocked.
I had options now.
Maybe I wouldn't later.
I texted my parents.
Building situation worse. I'm probably leaving at daylight. Taking county roads toward you. Not highway.
Dad answered from Mom's phone.
Call before you move. Don't rush. Watch roads.
I wrote:
Yep
I checked the Civic through the window.
There it was.
Third row.
Gray roof beneath a lamp.
Maybe eighty yards from the building entrance.
Ridiculously close.
I could walk there in less than a minute under normal circumstances.
I imagined the route.
Apartment. Hallway. West stairs. First floor. Lobby. Parking lot. Civic.
The second floor was the problem.
Maybe I didn't need to enter it.
The west stairwell ran directly to the ground floor.
As long as the doors stayed closed, I could pass the second-floor landing without stepping into the hallway.
Good.
Unless something was already in the stairwell.
Another unknown.
I opened the backpack again.
Still too heavy.
Two bottles of water, clothes, first-aid kit, battery pack, charger, flashlight, food, wallet, multitool.
I'd added my laptop.
Why?
I took it out.
Then put it back.
If I left and couldn't return, the laptop mattered.
Work. Personal files. Everything.
Then I pictured myself running across the parking lot with it and removed it again.
Your laptop is not worth dying for.
I put my ID, cash, and an old paper map into the backpack.
Then too much food. I removed half, added deodorant, stared at it, removed it, added another shirt, and removed that too.
I was doing it again.
Trying to control the situation by controlling the contents of a backpack.
I finally zipped it.
One bag. Coat on. Phone in front pocket. Keys in right. Hammer in hand.
Simple.
At 4:25, I heard Marcy crying through the wall.
Softly.
Then Tanner speaking.
Couldn't make out the words.
Dombrowski said something.
All three alive.
Good.
I wondered if I should ask whether they wanted to leave with me.
Then realized I didn't even know whether I was leaving.
Daylight might bring police.
National Guard.
Clear instructions.
Maybe the entire situation would stabilize.
I still wanted to believe morning would fix things.