Chapter 12
Not off the air.
Offline.
The livestream froze on a reporter standing beside a police barricade.
Then the feed ended.
The website remained accessible.
No new updates.
National outlets had picked up the story.
VIOLENT INCIDENTS REPORTED ACROSS MULTIPLE WISCONSIN COMMUNITIES
Multiple.
Not just us.
I clicked.
Milwaukee.
Green Bay.
La Crosse.
Rockford, Illinois.
Then reports farther away.
Minnesota.
Michigan.
Chicago.
The story had stopped being local sometime while I'd been listening to my hallway.
That changed everything again.
My parents' house wasn't automatically safe simply because it was outside the city.
Whatever this was could already be everywhere.
I called Dad.
He answered quietly.
"You see the national news?"
"Yes."
"Any activity there?"
"No."
"Road?"
"Nothing."
"Neighbors?"
"One truck went past half an hour ago."
"Okay."
"You still planning to come?"
"I don't know."
"Good."
I almost laughed.
"What does that mean?"
"It means don't leave just because you made a plan an hour ago."
That was exactly why I'd called him.
"Building isn't safe."
"Apartment?"
"So far."
"Then wait until you have a reason."
"Yeah."
I looked at the Civic again.
"Roads could be impossible later."
"They could."
"And if I wait too long—"
"You'll know when you know."
"That's not very analytical."
"No. It's life."
I rubbed my eyes.
He continued.
"Your mother wants you here."
"I know."
"I want you here."
"I know."
"But I don't want you getting killed trying to get here."
Neither of us spoke for a few seconds.
"I'll wait."
"Good."
We hung up.
I sat down.
That turned out to be the correct decision.
For twenty-eight minutes.