Author: janachantel

Razor

An 18-year-old Razor towered over his victim—his knuckles bloody. He focused on his breathing—trying to calm his self-down. He couldn’t remember what happened. Apparently, he blacked out. This usually occurred when he was angry—correction, pissed. That’s been happening to him since he was little. He never thought much of it. If someone was able to get him that angry, then they deserved whatever he did to them. And whatever he did to them was usually painful.

     Police sirens were in the background. It sounded like they were getting closer. Razor still stood over his victim. He wasn’t afraid of the police. He wasn’t scared of getting into trouble. On the contrary, he welcomed it. It gave him a rush that nothing else, or anyone else, could make him feel.

     Razor tried to recall the argument that he had. He couldn’t remember what it was about. He just remembered he and his friend were shouting at each other, and then he was standing over him—his knuckles covered in blood.

     As he looked down at his friend, he couldn’t shake the feeling of shame that began to slowly creep in. His friend looked up at him with a bloody nose, his left eye was swollen, and random cuts on his face. There were horror and fright in his eyes; he feared for his life. Razor understood the look. If he didn’t come to, there’s no telling how far he would’ve gone. They both knew that Razor could’ve killed him. And that knowledge hung tensely in the air.

     His now ex-friend wanted to press charges. So, Razor spent the night in jail. A jail cell wasn’t foreign to him. He spent a fair amount of time there. He was the local troublemaker—the side effect of being the only child to older parents. His mother was close to 45 when she had him. His dad was well into his 50s. Reigning in a wild child was hard. They were now well into their 60s and 70s.

     Razor spent the whole weekend in jail before his mother eventually came and got him. The car ride home was long and silent. He had made his mother cry plenty of times. It killed him every time. He hated to see her cry. He never meant to hurt her, but he was a constant disappointment. By the time Razor was 15, she had stopped crying altogether. She became silent—stoned. Due to health reasons, his father didn’t get all that worked up about Razor’s misfortunes. His father didn’t care that the people in town talked about their parenting skills either. They had been trying to have a child for so long that he found Razor to be a blessing—troublemaker and all.

     “I’m sorry,” Razor said to his silent mother.

     “You’re always sorry.”

     “…I just got so angry.”

     “And you blacked out.”

     Razor didn’t say anything. He’s been telling her this since he was a little boy.

     “It’s fine, Razor. I gave up expecting you to be something I can be proud of a long time ago.”

     Razor hung his head in disappointment. “You don’t know what it’s like.”

     “I no longer care to know.”

     Razor was a little hurt at his mother’s bluntness. This rage was him. She didn’t care to understand that?

     “There’s always been this rage inside of me. A rage I can’t control.”

     “A lot of people have rage inside of them, Razor, but they’re able to control it.” Silence hung in the air. “This is the last time I bail you out.”

     Something in his mother’s tone told him that she meant it.

     There was no need for further conversation when Razor got home. He just went straight to his room in the basement. After a while, he heard his parents in the kitchen talking about him. His mother explained that this was the last time they were going to bail Razor out of jail. His father was hesitant to agree.

     “Jill, he’s all that we have,” his father pleaded.

     “Don’t give me that, Roger. Ryan doesn’t care about us. If he did, he wouldn’t be getting into so much trouble.”

     “He’s our son.”

     “And he’s an adult. Old enough to get out of trouble on his own,” Jill disputed.

     There was a long pause after her statement. Razor wasn’t sure what his parents were doing, but he could hear his father’s heavy breathing after some time. Razor knew that Roger was getting his self worked up.

     Jill sighed and readjusted her tone. “Besides,” she said softly. “His legal fees are dipping into our retirement funds. What are we going to do once that’s all gone?”

     “You’re right,” Roger finally calmed down a little and agreed, sadly. “No more bailing him out.” Razor sighed. What a disappointment? He really was letting his parents down as a son. He was determined to accept whatever fate he’d face with this new case. He was going to leave his parents in peace. They deserved that much.

**

Razor stood in the courtroom alone—only his court-appointed lawyer there for support. He was waiting for his sentencing. He pled guilty to the assault and battery charge. Luckily, he was just sentenced to two years of probation and 120 hours of community service.

     “Took a lot of finessing on my part,” the lawyer bragged.

     Razor didn’t say anything. He just gave his lawyer a blank stare.

     Getting uncomfortable by the eerie stare, the lawyer cleared his throat. “Well, you report to your probation officer first thing tomorrow morning. Don’t be late! Or that’s jail time for you. The officer will give you your community service assignment.”

     “Thanks,” Razor finally said.

     “And do try to stay out of trouble, Mr. Thompson.”

     Razor didn’t respond. He just walked out of the courthouse—determined to put as much distance from the place as possible.

     No words were exchanged when he got home. His parents didn’t bother to see how his court hearing went. A part of him was saddened by their nonchalant attitude. His behavior really drove them over the edge. Honestly, he couldn’t help it. It seemed like ever since he was born, Razor had this unexplainable rage inside of him. It burned deep. It wasn’t clear where it came from. He tried hard to suppress it, but whenever he got angry, he just exploded.

     His mother, Jill, first sought out counseling. Then came anger management. All of that seemed to upset Razor even more. The attention made him feel different—ashamed. The more they tried to tame or normalize him, the more he rebelled. He accepted the fact that his rage made him who he was. There was no flaw in that. Razor hated that his parents, particularly his mother, saw it that way. But he kept letting his rage guide him, hoping that one day his mother would just accept it.

     Razor headed for the basement. He grabbed his cell phone and texted the girl he usually messed around with. A distraction was needed. The time slowly passed while he waited on a response. He occupied his time by playing video games.

     Usually, he didn’t care for them, but his dad bought a gaming system and some fighting games for Razor when he was 15.

     “Another way to fight with your hands,” Roger explained.

     Although he found it idiotic, Razor gave gaming a try. It was the least he could do for his dad; he rarely asked Razor for anything. He tried to make it work. A couple of months went by, and Razor managed to keep out of trouble—his best record to date. But then there was an incident. Razor couldn’t get to his gaming system fast enough, and his hot streak went out the window.

     Roger was a little disappointed, but he knew that the gaming system wouldn’t keep Razor out of trouble forever.

     It was midnight by the time Razor was sneaking in his friend with benefits. His parents were sound asleep.

     “I heard you got into trouble again?” she said, sitting on his bed.

     “I didn’t invite you here to talk.”

     “No need to get pissy,” she took her shirt and bra off. “Was just trying to make conversation.”

     “We can do that on the phone.”

     She rolled her eyes as she lay down, and Razor helped her out of her pants. Sex was a stress reliever for him. It was one of the very few things to calm him down. And he needed calming down a lot.

     Luckily, Razor didn’t have any trouble finding a partner for his stress relief activity. He was very good looking. He stood tall at 6’2, lean, and muscular. His former companions always complimented his physique when they glided their hands across his abs. Tattoos ran down his neck, his right arm, and chest—it was flattering against his fairly tanned skin. He had brown eyes and sandy brown hair. His goatee mostly covered his strong jawline.

     Razor climbed on top of his companion and lost himself in his stress relief activity. Every single thought and worry quickly fled from him. He immediately drifted off to sleep once they were done.

     The sun had risen when his companion woke him up. “Walk me home,” she demanded.

     Razor casually rolled over. “You’re a big girl. Walk yourself home.”

     “Asshole!”

     “Be sure not to wake my parents on your way out.”

     She gave him a good push before she stormed out.

     Razor paid her no mind. He drifted back to sleep with no problem. He didn’t wake until his dad came downstairs.

     “You need to see your probation officer.”

     Razor got up and dressed. Every part of him dreaded the possibility of community service.

**

     The next six weeks went by uneventfully. Razor spent four hours daily, out of the five-day workweek, doing community service. He spent four hours in the morning there and then came home to nap. The rest of the day was spent lounging around in the basement, trying to stay out of trouble. He couldn’t afford to get into any more trouble. Determination ran through him. He didn’t want to let down his parents again—particularly his mother. He had to prove her wrong.

     On the last day of his community service, Razor met with his probation officer. He fought off the urge of irritation as the officer casually flipped through his file. 

     “Well, Mr. Thompson,” he finally said. “I’m impressed. I figured you would’ve gotten into trouble by now.”

     “It’s Razor.”

     “Your legal name is Ryan Thompson. That’s what I prefer to call you.”

     Razor glared at the officer. At first, his PO refused to be intimated by him, but he retracted after a few minutes of constant glaring.

     “Look,” he sighed. “You’ve been on a perfect streak with staying out of trouble. Do you really wanna ruin that now?”

     Razor hated to agree with him, but he reluctantly did. “Fine.”

     “Now, if you can just stay out of trouble for the next few weeks, I can see about getting your probation sentence reduced.”

     “Thanks.”

     “Just continue to stay out of trouble.”

     Razor left out the office without saying good-bye. He headed home to relax and stay out of trouble. A small part of him was secretly proud of himself. This was going to be the longest streak he’s had without getting into trouble. He wondered if his parents took notice, particularly his mother. Lately, he had a strong desire to prove her wrong and make her proud. For once in his life, he wanted to make her smile.

     Roger was in the kitchen, making lunch, when Razor walked through the door. Razor greeted his father with a nod.

     “How was your meeting?” Roger asked as he continued to make his sandwich.

     “Pretty good,” Razor sat down at the kitchen table.

     “Want a sandwich?”

     “Yeah, thanks. So, I’m done with my community service.”

     “That’s good.”

     “My PO said if I continue to stay out of trouble, he’ll see about getting my probation sentence reduced.”

     “That’s excellent son,” Roger sat two plates with sandwiches on the table. Razor quickly grabbed his sandwich. Roger sat down. “I’m proud of you. You’ve never gone this long before.”

     “I know,” Razor said in between bites. “I’m just tired of disappointing you both.”

     “Razor, I understand that anger. I understand that rage. It’s the rage that the Thompson men were cursed with. It only skipped me because of my disease.”

     Razor sometimes didn’t know whether to pity or envy his father.

     At the age of 13, Roger was diagnosed with a heart disease called hypertrophic cardiomyopathy. The disease ran on his mother’s side. After many very close calls, Roger managed to reel in his anger, reduce his stress, and control his disease (along with the help of medication, of course). But it was because of those near-death experiences that Roger was able to get his anger under control.

     Razor didn’t have that threat or incentive. He was left to figure it all out on his own. That’s why he sometimes envied his father—Roger had no choice but to get his anger under control.  Razor wasn’t sure if he could ever find a reason to rein it in.

     “Seems like it affected me more,” Razor admitted.

     Roger laughed. “Well, it’s known to get worse with every generation.”

     Razor frowned at that notion.

     “Don’t worry, son. You’ll figure it all out.”

     “Thanks for being so patient with me, dad,” Razor looked around for a moment. “Where’s mom?”

     “Out shopping.”

     “Oh,” Razor got up and put his empty plate in the sink. “I’m about to take a nap. Will you tell her the good news for me?”

     “Sure thing.”

     Razor went down to his room, turned on his TV for background noise, and lay across his bed. It didn’t take long for him to drift off to sleep.

     The first shake, Razor thought he was dreaming.

     The second shake, Razor thought his father was trying to wake him.

     When he woke up and saw that his father wasn’t in his room, Razor got up only to feel the third shake. What was happening? The whole house was shaking; Razor could feel the rumble underneath his feet. Small cracks were forming on the basement floor.

     Was this an earthquake?

     It couldn’t be. Razor lived in Ferndale, MI. Usually, Michigan hardly ever experienced any earthquakes. Razor panicked when he heard his father yelling upstairs. He ignored all the things that were falling around him and quickly ran up the steps three at a time. He fought to keep his self steady as the house continued to rumble.

     Razor found his dad in the living room, still sitting in his favorite recliner chair. Roger’s hands clung to the chair’s armrest as the house shook violently. Razor quickly helped his father out of the chair, and they sought refuge underneath the living room’s doorway.

     “Where’s mom?”

     “At the drug store picking up my prescription.”

     “Shit,” Razor wanted to leave and find his mother, but he couldn’t leave his father alone. And he couldn’t go while the earthquake was still happening. He had to wait it out.

     The house shook for a few more minutes before it finally stopped. Screams and cries began to ring out from outside. Razor quickly helped his father back to his recliner chair.

     “Stay here,” Razor instructed. “I’m going out to find mom.”

     Roger looked worried. “Be safe out there.”

     Razor rushed out of the house, grabbing his car keys along the way. He was shocked for a brief moment when he saw the damage outside. Trees were uprooted entirely from the ground, bringing up the sidewalk along with it. There was a massive crack in the middle of the street, with a minivan stuck inside. Luckily, there was no one inside the van.

A house down the street was utterly demolished. Razor could hear the screams of the people still trapped inside. A group of neighbors rushed to go try and save them. Razor didn’t even bother to join the rescue party. He was too worried about his mother. He jumped into his truck and hoped like hell that the roads were decent enough to drive through.

     On an average day, the drug store was like eight minutes away from Razor’s house. Today, Razor wasn’t so sure what his ETA would be. The drive consisted of a lot of swerving. It was a lot of things that he was trying to avoid hitting: debris, fallen trees, and people franticly running around.

     Razor grew frustrated. The longer it took for him to get to his mother, the more anxious he became. Razor eventually made his way to downtown Ferndale. The drug store was close by. He relaxed a little as he got closer. He quickly parked his truck at a decent spot; not too much damage was around it, and he rushed to the drug store.

     The windows were busted out. The building was slightly slanted, and the roof was caved in. There was a streetlight pole sticking out the door. There were a lot of screams and cries coming from the drug store. Razor broke out into a run. Panic filled him.

     “Mom!” he yelled as he made his way through the door. He was able to get over the fallen light pole very quickly and easily. “Mom!”

     Razor fought off the panic as his mother had yet to respond. A lot of crying was coming from the back by the pharmacy counter. Razor made his way through the fallen shelves, debris and knocked over merchandise.

     “Jill!” he yelled out again, hoping that she would respond to her name.

     “Razor! Over here!”

     Razor quickly made his way towards his mother’s voice.

     “Hurry, Razor! Help!”

     Razor made it to his mother. She was behind the pharmacy’s counter, along with some other customers. The pharmacist was trapped under a bunch of shelves and fallen rubble from the ceiling. Jill and the other customers were trying to help him, but the wreckage was too heavy.

     “Razor, please help him,” Jill pleaded once she saw him.

     Razor gently pushed his mother aside and began lifting the fallen rubble with ease. A few of the customers helped him with the ones he had difficulty with. He was able to get the pharmacist out in no time. Once the pharmacist was all clear, Razor grabbed his mother and led her towards the door.

     “What are you doing?” she protested. “We should wait for help.”

     “Dad is home alone,” he said. “We need to get back to him before an aftershock hit.”

     He wasn’t all that familiar with experiencing earthquakes, but he knew that aftershocks were a common thing. And he didn’t want to be out when another one occurred.

     Razor helped his mother over the fallen streetlamp and led her out of the store. “Where’s your car?” he asked once they were out.

     Jill gasped and pointed. Razor followed her gaze and saw her car tipped over.

     “Do you have anything important in there?”

     “A few groceries and some household products.”

     “Stay here,” Razor quickly ran over and retrieved what he could from the car. He ran back over to his mother and led her to his truck. Once they were safely inside, Razor quickly sped off.

     Jill looked at the scene in horror. “What on earth is happening?”

     Razor continued to weave in and out of traffic—dodging a few things.

     “We really should’ve stayed and made sure he was ok,” Jill said to her son.

     “We’ve done all we could.”

     “You don’t know that.”

     “We can only worry about ourselves.”

     Jill sighed in disappointment. “That’s no way to think, Ryan.”

     Razor grimaced as he continued to drive. He hated it when his mother used his real name. That always meant that she was angry or disappointed with him. He didn’t say anything. His mother was just never going to understand.

     During the time of chaos, you had to look out for yourself and your loved ones. That was the only way you could survive. Razor understood that, and he was prepared to make those hard choices in order to keep his parents alive.

     Razor felt a little relief as he turned down his street. The quicker he got home, the better. He hated the unknown and what they were experiencing now was just that. He needed some time to think. He needed time to prepare.

     Then the ground began to shake.

     “Shit,” Razor mumbled. “Not again.” Razor accelerated, rushing to get home to his dad.

     Jill gripped the door handle. “Careful Razor,” she mumbled.

     Razor ignored her and sped up. He refused to allow his dad to experience this alone. He hated the fact that his mother already had to. Plus, intuition was telling him that being out on the street wasn’t good. Jill let out a few screams as he dodged out of the way of falling trees, streetlights, and houses.

     Just a little closer.

     They were so close to the house. Razor just had to go a little faster, and they would be there. Suddenly, the road in front of them dropped. It lowered about six feet. Razor slammed on the brakes, but not fast enough. They skidded toward the wall of concrete that suddenly formed in front of them.

     All Razor heard was his mother’s screams before he blacked out.

Razor

The next few months were even more chaotic and hectic. After a couple of weeks, Razor was able to recover from the crash. He had a concussion and some cuts and bruises. Jill sustained a severe case of whiplash. Overall, they were able to walk away from the crash with no serious injuries. Razor’s truck, however, wasn’t so lucky. Surprisingly, he didn’t care too much about what happened to his vehicle. That wasn’t his biggest worry. What worried him the most was the unclear explanations that the government was giving people.

     News reports stated that the earthquakes were an uncommon phenomenon. Michigan wasn’t the only state to experience the devastating disaster that day. In fact, the whole United States experienced an earthquake. It was one big massive earthquake that was felt around the country. Of course, some states were impacted by it more—like California, Nevada, and New Mexico. Many people died or were severely injured.

     The government was scrambling to get control over everything. But it was all too much. There wasn’t any kind of plan, or resources for that matter, to handle a scenario where the entire country experienced a natural disaster at the same time.

     Razor tried as best he could to prepare him and his parents for the unique experiences. He stocked up on supplies. He boarded up the house—mainly the windows since they were destroyed by the latest earthquake. He begged his parents that they stayed indoors, except for him. Out of all of them, he was the only one capable of handling the chaos that laid outside of their doors.

     After the earthquakes, rolling blackouts began to occur. This wasn’t limited to the U.S. The blackouts were happening around the world. Crimes such as looting, stealing, and robbing had skyrocketed. Razor was confident that he could deal with these kinds of people. His parents, however, most certainly could not.

     Jill gave Razor a hard time with these new rules. She wasn’t used to him calling all the shots. Razor tried to be diplomatic with his mother as best he could, but he always struggled with patience. He and his mother argued a lot. He hated it. Especially since it bothered his father so much. Razor didn’t want to put too much stress on Roger, especially with his condition.

     Razor managed to stock up on a decent supply of Roger’s heart medication on his last outing. He didn’t tell his parents that he stole them. He wanted to ration out the medicine for as long as he could, so Razor made it a point to avoid any altercations with his mother—for his father’s sake.

     For the most part, Razor stayed in his room in the basement. Luckily, his space didn’t have too much damage done to it after the many earthquakes. After seeing how upset Roger got after Razor’s many arguments with Jill, Razor thought it best if he just stayed put in the basement. He only came out to fix them all food, administer his father’s medication, or make a supply run.

     On this particular day, Razor was napping (something that he did a lot lately) when his mother woke him.

     “The electricity is back on,” she explained to him. “I want to go out and get some food to cook.”

     “Make a list, and I’ll get it later.”

     “I wasn’t asking. I was giving you a heads up. I’m leaving.”

     Razor sighed. “Mom, we’ve been through this; it’s not safe for you to leave the house.”

     “This is my house, Ryan! I’ll do whatever the hell I like!”

     “Fine,” Razor got up and proceeded to put on his shoes. “Then I’m coming with you.” Jill was about to protest when Razor glared at her. He was on his last straw with his mother. “That’s the only way you’re leaving this house.”

     At this point, he was considering locking his mother in her room or something. Roger would just have to get over it. His mission was to keep his parents safe throughout this whole ordeal. He was determined to do that by any means necessary.

     The look on Razor’s face must have frightened Jill because she didn’t say anything else. Instead, she turned around and headed upstairs. Razor could hear her telling his father that Razor was leaving out with her. By the time Razor got upstairs, Jill was silently waiting for him by the door. Razor said goodbye to his father as he gave Roger his medicine. Then he and his mother left. They were now down to one car, Roger’s car. It was an SUV, so it did fine driving through the damaged streets.

     Jill gave her son the silent treatment throughout the whole ride. Razor was ok with it. He was quickly learning that no matter what he did, he would never be able to satisfy Jill. Although there were times when he really wanted to please her and make her proud. But as these few months past, he was more than positive that that could never happen.

     Throughout their many arguments, he explained to his mother that he wasn’t behaving that way to be mean but to keep her safe. He loved her and didn’t want anything terrible to happen to her. Jill seemed not to listen or didn’t want to listen. Razor couldn’t understand why his mother kept fighting him on this issue. Why was she so resentful? He often wondered if she would’ve put up so much resistance if it was his father calling all the shots. So, Razor could only conclude that his mother was just bent on being unsatisfied with him.

     Razor slowly drove past the grocery store.

“What are you doing?” Jill demanded.

     “Scoping out the area,” Razor said, looking around the nearby buildings.

     Jill rolled her eyes. “I swear, Razor, you can be so paranoid.”

     “If you’re going to be here, you’re going to do this my way.”

     Jill rolled her eyes again but didn’t say anything.

     Razor drove around the block a couple of times, looking for anything suspicious. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary to him. But he wasn’t satisfied with going in just yet. Parking a few buildings down from the grocery store, Razor cut off the engine. Jill went to open her door when Razor grabbed her wrist.

     “Not yet,” he said, looking at the grocery store.

     “What do you mean not yet?”

     Razor ignored her attitude and kept looking at the door. He thought he saw a flicker of movement inside.

     “Ryan, let me go now!”

     Razor tightened his grip. “I said not yet.”

     “Let go of me!” Jill tried to open the door with her other hand, but Razor pulled her back from the door.

     “We don’t know if it’s clear.”

     “You’re just paranoid.”

     “I’m just trying to keep us alive,” Razor growled. “Now, are you going to wait until I say when it’s clear, or should I drive you back home?”

     “I’ll wait,” Jill snapped.

     Razor stared at his mother for a moment—reading her face. After a while, he slowly let her wrist go. Jill quickly pulled it back once Razor loosened his grip. She scowled at him as she rubbed her wrist, indicating that he hurt her. Razor ignored her and her theatrics. He looked more intently at the store. He could’ve sworn he saw movement earlier before. He cursed under his breath. Jill was distracting him with all her drama. Usually, he would’ve been in the store by now. They’ve been sitting outside for too long. It seemed suspicious. And if someone else was scoping out the area, they definitely knew he was there now.  

     He decided to give it a couple more minutes—just to be safe. If someone were scoping them out, he hoped that they would just hold off before doing anything. Jill sighed with impatience. Razor ignored her.

     There was a movement in the store again. He was sure of it. Razor quickly turned on the engine and threw the SUV into drive. He was about to speed off when Jill swung open the door and jumped out. She ran toward the store.

“Shit!” Razor slammed on the brakes and threw the car into park. He jumped out of the car and ran after his mother. Fortunately, he caught up to her quickly. He grabbed her arm and pulled her toward him. “We’re leaving!”

     Jill quickly spun around and slapped him as hard as she could. “Don’t touch me!”

     Razor released her. Taking a deep breath, he quickly reminded his self that this was his mother. But his anger was bubbling over, and his mother wasn’t making it easier on him. He watched with resentment as she ran into the store. There was a strong urge to just leave her and let her fend for herself since she was so dead set on doing things without him. But someone was in there. And Razor had a feeling that the outcome wouldn’t be pleasant.

     Reluctantly, Razor went into the store after his mother. He didn’t hear anything, so he figured the occupant was biding their time before confronting them. When he got inside, Jill was gathering up some canned goods at the front of the store. She pretended not to notice him, even though he was in her line of view. She proceeded to make her way to the back of the store.

     “We’re leaving,” Razor said.

     “No, we’re not. I’m not done.”

     “Yes, you are. This place isn’t clear.”

     “Look around, Ryan!” Jill gestured. “There’s no one here. You’re just paranoid.”

     “Lower your voice.”

     Jill glared at him. She then turned around and headed toward the back of the store. Razor grabbed her arm again. And again, Jill spun around and smacked him. Razor tightened his hold on his mother.

     “You haven’t seen what people have become in these past months,” Razor said through clenched teeth. He was trying hard not to use excessive force with his mother. “I have. And I’m telling you it’s not safe here.”

     “You just want to use this as an excuse to be in charge,” Jill spat. “I don’t care what you’ve seen. I’m not taking orders from a disappointment like you.”

     Razor was hurt by that comment, but he made sure that it didn’t show. Instead, he released her and turned to walk away.

     “I’ll walk home then,” he said over his shoulder.

     What was the point of fighting with her anymore? He was getting nowhere. And if they kept it up like this, then Razor was sure that he would end up hurting his mother. He couldn’t live with himself if he ended up doing that.

     Someone began clapping when Razor was close to the door. He froze. He knew someone was in there. A small part was hoping that they would’ve stayed hidden until his mother left.

     “Excellent restraint,” a male voice complimented. “I don’t think I could’ve just simply walked away like you.”

     To his left, a man walked out of a back room.

“Well,” another male voice added. “He seems like he’s mommy’s good little boy.”

     Jill jumped at the sound of the new intruder. He was coming down the aisle right behind her. She slowly backed away, coming closer to Razor. Razor closed the distance.

     “Does she always give you such a hard time?” the first man asked Razor. He was tall and very lanky.

     Razor didn’t answer. He just glared at him.

     “Too much mouth for me,” the second man said. He was shorter than his partner and much more muscular and stockier. “I would’ve sliced out her fucking tongue a long time ago.”

     Razor growled as he stood in front of his mother—protecting her.

     The second man chuckled. “Oh, don’t be like that. I saw your frustration as she was giving you all that lip.”

     “We’ll just leave,” Jill whispered. It was barely audible.

     The first man looked at her and sighed. “I’m afraid you can’t do that. You trespassed on our property. There are consequences for that.”

     “This isn’t your property,” Razor stated. He knew the store owner. Neither men were it.

     “It is now,” the second man said. “And we have certain ways of dealing with trespassers. Especially women,” he looked over at Jill and grinned. “No matter how old and mouthy they are.”

     The first man launched at Razor. Razor quickly punched him in the throat. The lanky man stumbled back, choking. The second man attacked next. Jill screamed out in terror as Razor pushed her out of the way. The stocky man went for Razor’s waist. He slammed Razor on the ground.

     “Razor!” Jill screamed out, afraid.

     The stocky man began punching Razor, but Razor was able to block most of them. He spotted a shelf from a fallen endcap lying next to him. As the stocky man pulled back to deliver another blow, Razor reached out and grabbed the shelf and hit the guy in his face—making sure the pointed edge made contact with his temple. The stocky guy flew back and crashed into an endcap that was still standing. Razor could see that the guy was bleeding from his head.

     “Razor!” Jill screamed again. She reached over and threw a can at the first guy who was making his way toward her son.

     The lanky guy, still choking, turned his attention to Jill. Razor got to his feet before the guy could get any closer to his mother. Razor hit the guy with the shelf as hard as he could. The guy’s neck cracked. The lanky man dropped to the ground.

     “Frank!” the stocky man cried out. Frank was dead. His partner knew it. The man jumped up and charged at Razor.

     Again, Razor swung the shelf like it was a baseball bat and hit the guy in the face, yet again. The guy flew back once again, landing on the floor. Razor was seeing red. The guy’s last comment was ringing in his ears “…we have certain ways of dealing with trespassers. Especially women, no matter how old and mouthy they are.”

     The guy tried to get up. Razor was on him before he could. He hit the guy with the shelf again.

     And again. And again. And again. And again.

     His rage was spilling over, and there was no way he could control it.

     “Razor!”

     He hit the guy again.

     “Razor!”

     He hit the guy again.

     “Razor!” Jill gently placed a hand on her son’s shoulder. “Honey, please, that’s enough.”

     Razor was breathing heavily as he stared down at what used to be the guy’s face. He looked at his hands and the shelf. It was covered with blood. Blood coated his face as well—Razor could feel it. The whole scene reminded him of one of Pollock’s paintings. Blood was splattered everywhere, but it somehow looked so beautiful to him. The entire incident made him eerily calm. Was that normal? Razor was starting to wonder if he was losing his mind.

     “Honey…” there was terror in Jill’s voice. They were silent for a moment. The guy was barely alive; he was making a strange, gurgling sound. It sounded like he was choking on his blood. “Maybe…maybe…you should put him out of his misery?”

     Razor looked at his mother with disbelief. He quickly got angry. “You think he would’ve shown you the same mercy?”

     Tears fell from Jill. She knew her son was right. “Please, Razor.”

     Razor sighed and hit the guy one last time. The guy went silent. Razor tossed the shelf and tried to wipe away as much blood as he could from his hands.

     “Hurry up and grab some food,” he said to his mother. “Before someone else comes.”

     Jill stared down at the dead man in disbelief. Unfortunately, she was slowly drifting into shock. Razor could see it on her face. He sighed and quickly bagged up the canned goods that she already had stacked at the front. Then he pulled his mother close to him and helped her walk out of the store. Razor could feel her shaking in his arms. He quickly froze once they stepped outside. A man and two women were waiting just a few feet away. They looked at him with worry.

     “Are they in there?” one of the women asked. She appeared to be the youngest.

     “Not alive,” Razor walked around them once he was sure that they weren’t a threat. They appeared to be a family just trying to scavenge up some food. Razor helped his mother into the SUV. It was astounding that it was still there.

     “May I?” the woman asked.

     Razor wasn’t sure why she was asking his permission. It wasn’t his store. Then he caught a glimpse of himself in the passenger window. He was covered in blood. His face and neck were caked with it, and his hands looked like they were bathed in blood. The view must’ve looked scary to them. Razor walked around to the driver’s side and opened the door.

     “Knock yourself out,” he proceeded to get inside the car but hesitated. “I wouldn’t be too long if I were you, though.”

     “Thank you,” the man said. And then he and the two women quickly went inside.

     Razor sped off once they were out of sight. Jill remained silent through the car ride. However, this silence was different than the one she gave him on the ride over. She was still in shock.

     Razor sighed. “I’m sorry,” he must’ve been a bigger disappointment to her. He just killed two men, and he felt no kind of remorse whatsoever. In his mind, the kills were justifiable. The men were trying to hurt his mother. But he wondered if Jill would see it like that. “But from now on, you have to listen to me. Ok?”

     “Ok,” she whispered in a shaky voice.

**

“He was born for this new world,” Razor overheard Jill say to Roger when they got back from the grocery store.

     Jill was still very shaken up by the time they got home. Roger repeatedly asked her what was wrong. Razor was too ashamed to tell his father what went down at the store. He feared that the knowledge of his son killing two people would send Roger over the edge. Razor didn’t want to risk that with his father’s heart condition.

     Surprisingly, Roger didn’t act too bad once Jill told him what happened. He was more upset that his wife was in danger. He also held her accountable for putting herself in that position by not listening to Razor in the first place.

     “Trust me, Jill,” Roger said after he heard what happened. “Razor knows what he’s doing.”

     “I know, honey,” Jill hung her head in shame. “Trust me, I won’t disobey him again.”

     Razor slowly walked into the living room once he heard that their discussion was done. He had been eavesdropping on the conversation as he made them all dinner. As soon as he walked in, Jill looked over at him and gave him an embarrassing smile.

     “Thank you, Razor.”

     Razor handed her a bowl of beans, corn, and rice. “You’re welcome.”

     “No,” Jill could see that he didn’t understand her gratitude. “Thank you for saving me back there.”

     Razor looked at her, confused. He was conflicted. On the one hand, he was shocked that his mother was thanking him at all. On the other hand, he was angry that she felt the need to thank him for doing his duty.

     “Mom, there’s no need to thank me for that. I told you, I love you. I don’t want anything bad to happen to you.”

     “I know, honey,” she handed back her bowl of food. “Take it. I’m not really hungry.”

     “Just eat a little. You’re still in shock. It’d be better if you had something in your stomach.”

     Jill nodded and took two huge portions of the rice, bean, and corn mixture that Razor made. Finding her son satisfied with that, Jill quickly went off to bed. Once his mother was gone, Razor took a seat next to his father and ate his food.

     “You alright, son?” Roger asked after a while.

     Razor smiled at him weakly. “So much for my good streak.”

     Even with all the chaos that’s been going on, Razor managed to avoid confrontation with people until today.

     Roger frowned. “I’ll say that this one was justified.”

     “I feel ashamed.”

     “There’s nothing to be ashamed about. You were protecting your mother.”

     Razor shook his head. “No, I feel ashamed because I don’t feel remorseful about killing them. I killed two people, and there’s no inkling of guilt.”

     Roger nodded—taking in his son’s statement.

     “Are you disappointed in me?” Razor asked after a long awkward silence.

     “Not at all, son. I think your mother may have been right. I think you were born for this new world,” Roger admitted. “Some difficult decisions need to be made, and you are the right kind of person to make them. Remorse and guilt. Those are the two things that can keep you down and cloud your judgment.”

     Razor was a little shocked to hear his father say that. It was so blunt and honest. But Razor saw his point. Now was the time to keep focus and stay on the mission—keeping his parents safe. Emotions got in the way of that. Razor had to be emotionless. Surprisingly, he was good at that.

     Razor gave his father his medication. Then the two men spent the remainder of the night watching TV—enjoying the electricity.

     The next few months were very easy for Razor since he and his mother were getting along. Jill had no problem listening and following Razor’s rules. She was terrified of going back outside. Razor was a little concerned with her fear. He didn’t want her to be afraid—just cautious. But Jill was content with never stepping a foot outside. For the moment, Razor thought it best to let her be.

     Unfortunately, their time with electricity was short-lived. They had power for about two weeks before another earthquake, and a rolling blackout happened. Razor was finding his self frustrated. The government could not give them a reason as to why this was happening, nor could they provide them with a timeframe on how long this was going to occur. Razor tried to prepare as best as he could, but everything was just too unpredictable.

     What he was finding predictable, however, were the earthquakes. So, he spent some time nailing and strapping things down so they would stay in place whenever another quake hit. He got rid of anything that was made of glass or that was breakable. He fixed the cracks that were in the walls and on the roof. He kept his self occupied and busy with chores. Most importantly, he was staying out of trouble.

     Although months had passed since he killed those two men, every so often, Razor would suddenly experience a case of paranoia. Sometimes he would be convinced that the police would show up on his doorstep. But they never did. They were too occupied and too spread out to follow up on every single crime that occurred. Razor knew this, but he still couldn’t shake the feeling.

     There had been more supply runs since the incident. Jill was anxious every time Razor left. She was afraid of him running into trouble again. She was also scared that someone was going to try to break in while he was away. Razor always had to calm her down. He usually left his father with a loaded rifle whenever he went on a supply run—even before the incident. Roger was more than capable of keeping them safe. Jill knew this, but she was anxious all the same. Razor ended up fortifying the house after Jill had a panic attack during his last supply run. With each passing day, he grew more concerned for her.

     So, on his very last supply run, Razor made sure that he stocked up on stuff that would last for a long time. Usually, his supply runs lasted for like an hour, tops. But this last run, he spent so much time scavenging in different areas that he was gone for half the day. The supplies should last them until at least six months. That’s what Razor was hoping for. And if he rationed them right, the goods might even last longer.

     Jill was happy and less anxious now that Razor was going out less frequently.

     Razor was now sleeping in the living room. With his mother’s fearful condition, he was concerned with being away from her. She felt safe when he was close. He wanted her to always feel that way. And that’s where he was when he heard someone trying to break-in through the living room window.

     At first, Razor thought he imagined things. He hadn’t had a good night’s sleep in weeks, so he thought he was getting delirious. But then he heard a voice.

     “See if you can get in around back,” a male voice commanded.

     Razor jumped up and grabbed the rifle that laid on the coffee table beside him. At that moment, he was thankful for Roger’s passion for hunting. Although his father hadn’t gone hunting in over a decade, Roger still found the need to collect hunting rifles.

     Razor quietly walked to his parents’ room. Roger met him at the bedroom door with his own rifle in his hand. Instinctively, Jill was directly behind him—the look of fear deep in her eyes.

     “Someone’s in the back,” Roger whispered.

     Razor nodded. “I heard them out front too,” he whispered.

     They all heard someone tinkering around at his parents’ window. Jill quickly covered her mouth—trying not to scream.

     “They can’t get in,” Razor assured his mother.

     Just then, they heard banging coming from the living room. Someone was trying to get through the window that Razor had securely boarded up. He was confident that they would fail, but he wanted to hide his parents in the rare chance that they did.

     Razor motioned for his parents to follow him. They quickly obeyed. As they passed through the living room, Razor could see the silhouette of a person trying to break the boards to get through. Rage bubbled up inside of him. He had to get his parents safely out of the way before he did what he had to do. He led his parents down the basement and into his closet. Razor had turned it into a panic room for just this scenario. There were enough supplies and amenities that his parents could survive in there for weeks.

     “Stay put,” he demanded. “I’ll go run them off.”

     “No, Razor,” Jill pleaded. “Please stay.”

     “I can’t let them get in here.”

     “He’s right, Jill,” Roger wrapped his arm around his wife. “They can’t get in.”

     “Then, be sure to make it back to us.”

     “I will,” Razor quickly kissed her cheek and then looked at his dad. “Keep her safe.”

     Razor secured his parents in the panic room and then went upstairs to deal with the intruders.

     The banging increased. The intruders were now trying to get in through the kitchen window. Razor paused at the top of the basement stairs. He was trying to gauge how many were there. There was someone at the kitchen window, the living room window, and his parents’ bedroom window. But he couldn’t tell if there was any more.

     “We know you’re in there!” a voice yelled. It sounded like they were at the side door. “Just give us some supplies, and we’ll leave you be.”

     “Yeah, right,” another voice whispered.

     Razor didn’t say anything. He swiftly and quietly made his way up to the attic. He passed the living room and saw that the person was still trying to get in. It was the same view when he passed by his parents’ bedroom. The intruders had picked the wrong house. Razor’s adrenaline was running high, which made his anger spiral out of control. He was ready to make these people pay.

     We’ll leave you be.

     Razor didn’t believe that for a second. How many times did this person make that promise? How many naïve people believed them only to fall victim? They wouldn’t be one of them.  

     Razor made his way to the secret hatch that he created in the attic. The hatch led him out to the roof. He positioned his self so he couldn’t be seen. He scoped out the area around his house. There was one person out front, one person in the backyard, and two by the side door. Razor wasn’t satisfied with that number. Something told him that there were more.

     After further investigation, he saw that there was one person a few houses down to his right. Another person was a few houses down to his left, and another at the far end of his backyard. They were there on guard in case any of them escaped from the house. These intruders were only here to do one thing: kill.

     They had a stable home and an ample amount of supplies. They were a gold mine for marauders.

     Razor put the suppressor on his rifle that was stashed by the hatch door. The plan was to take out the guards that were around the perimeter. Then he would focus on the ones closer to the house. He went for the guard on his right first. They went down quickly and quietly. Naturally, Razor was an excellent shot, thanks to Roger. No one seemed to notice that they were a man down.

     Then he turned his attention to the guy on his left. Again, they went down without anyone noticing. Next, he went for the guy in the backyard. Razor tried to focus on him, but he was having difficulty seeing him. A tree was in his way. He wanted to wait it out for a moment, but he could see that the person at the front window was slowly making progress. That was unacceptable.

     Ignoring the guy for a brief moment, Razor decided to turn his attention to the guy at the front window. He focused in on him—making sure his head was in clear view. Razor held his breath and fired. The guy dropped quickly, but not quietly. Sadly, he went down with a loud thud. So loud that someone on the side of the house heard it.

     “What was that?”

     “Don’t know.”

     “Go check it out.”

     Razor watched as someone slowly entered the line of view of his scope. Before they could react to their dead comrade, they dropped. They fell more silently.

     “What’s going on?” the leader asked when his partner had yet to report the status of the noise. When he still didn’t get a response, the leader walked over into Razor’s view. “Fuck!” the guy saw the two dead bodies.

     Razor fired, but the guy was fast and quickly got out of the way. The bullet only hit the guy in the shoulder. The leader screamed out in pain. Both of the men in the backyard rushed over to see what the problem was.

     “Shit,” Razor mumbled. He rushed to turn his attention to them.

     “Abort! Abort!” the leader yelled before Razor could react. The leader was the first to turn and flee. The others quickly followed.

     Razor fired again. He managed to get one of them in the knee. The man fell in the middle of the street, crying. His comrades didn’t bother to help him. They kept on running—leaving him behind. Razor quickly climbed down from the roof. He couldn’t let them escape. It wasn’t clear if they were fleeing or going to get back up. Either way, he couldn’t risk them coming back to retaliate.

     They had to die.

     The guy in the street continued to cry out in pain. Once he saw Razor approaching, he began crawling—trying to put as much distance between them as possible. Razor completely ignored him until he passed him. Then he turned the rifle toward the injured intruder and fired off a shot. The guy’s crying instantly stopped.

     The two remaining guys were still in his line of view. Razor quickly positioned his self on top of a parked car. The one that was lagging appeared to be the leader. Razor wanted to save him for last. So, he focused on the guy that was further away. He locked in on him and fired. The guy dropped to the ground. It wasn’t clear if he was dead or not, but the guy didn’t move.

     “Fuck!” the leader yelled out again. He ran to the side of someone’s house, looking to escape Razor’s view.

     Razor jumped off the car and proceeded to follow. As he got closer, he could hear the guy crying and frantically looking for somewhere to hide. Razor was at the driveway of the house the intruder fled to when it went silent. He no longer heard the guy moving around. Razor slowly made his way to the backyard—making sure he wasn’t heard.

     The occupants of the house had left months ago. Of course, looters had picked the place clean. Even the side door was missing. The dark entryway gradually came into Razor’s view. He slowly passed it—anticipating someone to jump out.

     No one did.

     Razor was almost in the backyard when something hard hit him across the back. He fell to the ground. The rifle flew out of his hands and slid across the yard. Razor quickly turned toward his assailant. The intruder had a big piece of wood lifted above his head. He was about to bring it down on Razor, but Razor caught it mid-air. The two men tugged on it for a moment, but since the guy’s shoulder was injured, Razor was able to take it from him.

     The guy charged at him, but Razor swung the piece of wood and hit the guy in the face. The guy flew back and fell to the ground. Razor got up and strode over to him. Instinctively, he swung the wood and hit the guy repeatedly.

     Then Razor blacked out…

     …when he came to, he was sitting on the living room couch—the bloody 2×4 still in hand. He couldn’t remember how he got there or how long he had been sitting there. Razor didn’t see his parents nearby, so he figured they were still in the panic room.

     When he opened the door, Jill was sleeping on a cot while Roger was nodding off in a chair.

     “Mom. Dad,” Razor said, waking them.

     Roger slowly opened his eyes, and Jill got up off the cot. They both looked at him in horror. Razor wondered what he looked like. He was starting to regret not looking in the mirror first.

     Roger stood up. “You alright, son?”

     Razor nodded. “They’re gone. It’s safe.”

     “Thank you, Razor,” Jill started to cry. She knew what her son did. She knew it had to be hard. And she was very appreciative. Jill walked over and hugged her son tightly.

     “You’re welcome, mom.”

     Roger smiled as his son and wife embraced one another. He loved that they were finally getting along. Despite everything that was going on, this was the one thing he was grateful for.

     Then there was a tremble. And as usual, a violent shake followed. Razor and Jill suddenly fell to the ground—the force knocking them away from the panic room. The house shook wildly—the worst one yet. Razor could see a huge crack forming in the ceiling. Their home was going to come down at any second. They all needed to get out of there. Reacting instinctively, Razor lifted his mother up and pushed her toward the stairs.  

     “Go!” he demanded. Razor went to help his dad out of the panic room. The house was coming down. Razor could feel it.  

     Then everything went in slow motion.

     Roger was walking to the door to meet Razor when the storage shelves tipped over. Razor tried to run to his father as fast as he could, but his feet didn’t seem to move. The entire unit came tumbling down on Roger. Blood flowed out of his father’s head. Razor was close. As he was about to lift the storage shelf off his father, the ceiling came crashing down.

     “Roger!” Jill screamed at the top of her lungs.

Helena

Helena let out a piercing scream as the house violently shook. “Ma! Dad!” she was currently taking cover under the kitchen’s doorway. Her parents were upstairs in their bedroom, at least that’s the last place she saw them.

“Helena, stay where you are, sweetheart!” her father yelled.

Helena held on tightly to the doorpost—her hands starting to cramp. She hated every moment of this. The earthquakes terrified her. And unfortunately, they were happening more often. It always left their house more damaged and more vulnerable.  

Most of the houses in her neighborhood barely stood. Many of their neighbors had to move and seek refuge someplace else. A lot of Helena’s friends were among them. It broke her heart when they had to go. She was sure that she would never see them again. A lot of people died due to these earthquakes. She often wondered if they would survive.

     Although the earthquakes terrified her, the thought of leaving home terrified her even more. They couldn’t leave their home. Not until her older sister Jade made it back to them. Jade ran away from home a year ago after Helena yelled at her to leave. Helena never thought that Jade would actually do it. She only said it in the heat of the moment.

     Jade was a teenager and in her rebellious phase. She was causing a lot of grief for their parents. Helena hated it. She hated hearing the arguments. She hated listening to her mother cry. She hated seeing her father fight back his anger. Helena just wanted it all to stop. So, one night, as her parents argued with Jade, Helena screamed at her to leave. The look on Jade’s face stunned Helena. Her sister looked genuinely hurt. So, Jade ran away that night and refused to come back.

     Both Helena and her parents begged for Jade to come back home, but Jade declined. Sadly, she was enjoying her freedom too much. That hurt Helena the most. She needed her big sister. But Jade would rather hang out with her friends and her boyfriend, Vincent, without any kind of adult supervision.

     Despite all of that, Helena still believed that Jade would come back home. With everything that was now going on, Jade couldn’t stay out on her own anymore. She had to return home. She had to be with her family. Sadly, it was looking like that wasn’t happening anytime soon.

     Helena kept her grip on the doorpost, even though her fingers hurt. She waited for the house to stop shaking. She waited for the ground to stop moving. She waited for the fear to leave her body. After what seemed like an eternity, the shaking subsided. Helena let out a sigh of relief. How many more of these did she have to deal with? Will they be without power, yet again, for weeks?   

     The only thing that scared Helena more than the earthquakes was the darkness. The darkness seemed to bring out the evil in people. Helena remembered the first blackout they had. Someone tried to break into their next-door neighbor’s home. They could hear the screams of terror from next door. Helena was terrified. Her father went over to chase off the would-be intruders. Helena was worried the whole time. She didn’t want the intruders to hurt her father. But nothing happened. Her father was a big man, and the intruders found him to be very intimidating. The next day, their next-door neighbors moved. They were never seen again.

     It took a moment before Helena finally got up from under the doorway. She could hear her parents rushing down the stairs.

     “Helena!” her mother screamed out.

     “I’m ok,” she responded. Physically, she was fine. Mentally, she was drained.

Her mother reached the kitchen’s doorway and was instantly relieved to find Helena ok. She took Helena in her arms and hugged her tightly. She kissed Helena’s forehead repeatedly. Her mother was always overly affectionate after they’ve experienced an earthquake. Helena figured that her mother was just very thankful every time they made it through alive.

     “I love you,” her mother cried.

     “I love you too, ma.”

     Helena’s father walked over and embraced them both. Helena stood in the middle of the family’s group hug. She was happy that she was with them, but she longed for her sister. She felt incomplete without Jade.

     The knocking on the front door broke up the family’s loving embrace. They all slowly pulled away from each other. Panicked screams could be heard outside. The screams after the earthquakes were normal to Helena, but something about these screams seemed different. Helena’s father went to the door and answered it.

     “Oh, thank God,” a neighbor from down the street greeted. “We need your help. Ms. Wilson is trapped in her home.”

     “What do you mean trapped?” Helena’s father asked.

     “She was in her bedroom when the earthquake hit. Her armoire fell over, blocking the door, and she can’t get out of her window because she’s on the second floor. Plus, the window is boarded up.”

     Helena’s father sighed. He knew there was no way the old woman could get out by herself. “Ok, let’s go.”

     “We’ll come with you,” Helena’s mother interjected.  

They all walked out into the chaos of their neighborhood. As usual, people were scrambling about the streets—assessing the damage that the earthquake has done. Quite a few people lost their homes. Again, Helena was incredibly grateful that their house was still standing.  She watched as neighbors tried to help the injured. People were removing debris that was in the way or could potentially cause problems in the future. Helena loved seeing this side of her community. The earthquakes seemed to bring them together more. The darkness, however, seemed to bring out something totally different.

     Ms. Wilson was known as the neighborhood’s cat lady; she was never married and never had any children. Helena always pitied her. Ms. Wilson was alone, and no one in this world should be alone. Once a month, her parents made her and Jade go down to Ms. Wilson’s house to see if she needed help with anything. On the days there wasn’t anything to do, the girls would sit and watch TV with her all day. Jade hated it. Helena never minded it too much. It was only one day, and for whatever reason, Helena felt like she owed it to her.

     As they approached Ms. Wilson’s home, Helena could see that the roof was caving in. Her heart raced. She could tell that it was going to crash through at any second. Poor Ms. Wilson. Helena didn’t want to imagine Ms. Wilson dying. She had known her since she was born. Ms. Wilson was like another grandmother to her.

“We have to hurry,” her father said as he began running. He, too, could see that there wasn’t a lot of time left to save Ms. Wilson.

     “Dad, be careful!” Helena advised as her father ran inside with a neighbor.

     “Stay put right here, Helena.”

     Helena was shocked for a brief moment. She couldn’t handle both of her parents being inside of a crumbling house. “Ma, please, don’t.”

     “It’ll be quicker with more people helping.”

     “But what about an aftershock,” this whole situation was too unpredictable. Helena didn’t like that.

     “We’ll be fine, sweetie. I promise,” her mother hugged her and kissed the top of her head.

Helena tried her best to calm herself as her mother went inside. A crowd was slowly forming around the house. Everyone kept their eyes on the unstable home, anticipating the worst. Helena was hoping—praying for the best. The minutes seemed to drag on. How long did it take to remove an armoire?

     Then she remembered what the neighbor said. The armoire was in the room with Ms. Wilson, and it was blocking the bedroom door. Ms. Wilson’s bedroom was on the second floor, and her bedroom window was boarded up due to a previous earthquake. Helena remembered. She was the one who helped boarded it up. That meant that everyone inside had to try to push the door open with the heavy armoire blocking the way. Helena wondered how many people it would take to accomplish that.  

     She was getting antsier by the second. The crowd of spectators was increasing. Helena had the urge to just scream. This situation just didn’t feel right to her. Of course, she wanted Ms. Wilson to be saved, but she didn’t want her parents in there either. She concluded that they needed more people inside. That was how this could get done quickly.

Without thinking, Helena headed for the front door. She could help them, and she could get her parents out of there. Helena was just about to walk up the front walkway when she felt a rumble. Someone quickly snatched her back as she heard screams coming from inside. They were terrifying screams.  

     It took a moment for Helena to realize what just happened. She felt like her eyes were playing tricks on her. At first, Ms. Wilson’s house was standing—caved in roof and all. Now, the house was a crumbling mess. The shingles of the roof were at direct eye level.

     There had been a rumble.

     At first, Helena thought that it was an aftershock, but she was now slowly realizing that it was from the house crashing down.

     The screams.

     The agonizing screams were coming from the occupants inside…and from her.

     The person who snatched her back quickly released her and rushed to help the people trapped under the rubble. Helena couldn’t stop screaming as she sank to the ground. She didn’t have the strength to stand.

     This couldn’t be happening.

     This can’t be happening, not to her. She needed them to be alive.

     Someone came and wrapped their arms around her. It was a boy who looked to be about her age—maybe a year or two older, 15 or 16.

     “It’s ok,” he said. “It’s going to be ok.”

     Helena allowed him to rock her back and forth. She needed comfort. She watched as the spectators rushed to save everyone inside. But as they pulled lifeless body after lifeless body out of the heavy rubble, hope was slowly starting to drain out of her. Helena was all alone. She didn’t need to see her parents’ bodies to know that.

     How was she going to survive in this world all alone?

**

Helena was numb. The days that followed her parents’ death was a haze. She couldn’t remember when the last time she ate or slept. She couldn’t even remember how she got home that day. Did she walk back? Or did someone carry her? Was it the boy who had consoled her? She couldn’t even remember if there had been another earthquake or a blackout since then. Helena couldn’t bother to feel anything but disbelief and grief. She couldn’t be in this world alone. There was no way she could survive it.

     She didn’t go past the couch in the living room. It was too much for her to make it anywhere that her parents had been, especially their bedroom. Helena had to come up with a plan—quick. She wasn’t sure when the next disaster would hit, but she knew she couldn’t be alone for it. She needed to find the strength to get off the couch and look for her sister. Jade had to come home now that their parents were gone. There was no way she could just leave Helena alone to fend for herself.

     No way.

     Helena struggled to push the fear back as she headed for the front door. She had never gone outside without her parents before. Her father had warned her how dangerous it was now. Besides the people in their neighborhood, she couldn’t trust anyone. But Helena needed to be brave and press on. She had a hunch about where Jade might be, and she wanted to be back before night hit.

     That was what terrified her the most. The night. The darkness. She saw different sides of people during that time.

“I’m coming for you, Jade,” she said as she headed out the door.

     Her steps were quick and urgent. She wasn’t really in the mood to chat with anyone nor in the mood to tell them where she was going. The less information they knew, the better. Helena was aware that the thought made her seem paranoid, but she was on her own. She could only survive if she thought like that.

     Luckily for her, her destination was only a half-mile away from her house. Somerset Mall. A lot of people in the Metro Detroit area dubbed it “the rich people” mall. And that was somewhat true. It was “the rich people” mall. But the mall also had an affordable side to it too. It was divided by a skywalk. Sometimes Jade and Helena ventured over to the rich side of the mall from time to time.

     “For a little peace and quiet,” Jade always said with a smirk. Helena agreed with her. The rich side was vastly more peaceful.

     As she approached the mall, Helena paused. It was just a few blocks away, but she wondered if it had fell victim to looters. A lot of stores and businesses were like that now. Rundown. Victimized. Abandoned. Some store owners either left the store to fend on its own or were beaten and had it stolen from them.

     Helena remembered her father telling her and her mother how the man who lived around the corner was beaten as looters robbed his store. Her father said they left him with nothing but a bloody face and broken bones. It wasn’t clear what the looters did to young girls, but something told her that she should keep her distance.

     The mall was in clear view.

     Helena hid behind some nearby bushes and watched. The place attracted a lot of people. A large number of people streamed in and out of the building with things in their arms. It didn’t seem chaotic and hectic. It seemed like the building wanted to provide people with supplies that they needed to survive.

But Helena wasn’t buying it. Something in her gut was telling her that this scenario was off. And one thing about her, she always went with her gut feeling.

     That was the thing with the Willer sisters.  They always went with their gut feeling.

     Jade said that it was their spirit talking to them—warning them about things they couldn’t see. Jade told her that they were special because not everyone could listen to their spirit and understand what it was saying. Helena loved it when her sister told her that. She used to think that they were magical.

     Sadly, she no longer thought that way. Not since she and Jade drifted apart.

     Helena got comfortable behind the bush. She prepared for a long wait. This was as close as she was willing to get to the mall. She was not a fighter, and to go closer to the mall, you had to be one.

     The day slowly drifted on with no crazy incidents. A few fights broke out between some looters, but none of them turned deadly. At least, not from what Helena saw anyway. She was going to give her watch a few more minutes before she headed home. Nighttime was a few hours away. She didn’t want to cut it close.

     A small part of her felt ridiculous. She was honestly naïve enough to think that she was going to find Jade on the first day. At the time, it seemed like an obvious lead. Jade loved going to the mall with her friends and Vincent. Why wouldn’t she retreat to something familiar to feel safe?

     But as Helena sat there watching different people approach the mall, she started to think that maybe this was a bad idea. However, it was the only idea she had. She didn’t feel brave enough to venture any further on her own. This plan had to work. She just needed to keep coming back until she sees Jade.

     Helena quickly got up from her hiding spot—making sure she wasn’t seen. She headed back home. Once she got back into the safety of her house, she barricaded herself inside and prepared herself for the night.

**

For a week straight, Helena went back to the mall only to come home disappointed. As the days went by, she was no closer to finding Jade. Helena was becoming discouraged. Her plan wasn’t working, and she didn’t know what else to do. To make matters worse, Helena was starting to run low on food. She would have to go scavenging soon, and she had no clue as to where to start. Her father always went out to find food. Helena had no clue what to do.

     As she made her journey to the mall, Helena came up with a plan to scavenge through some houses for food. If she were desperate, she would search through a few businesses.

     Helena placed herself in her usual hiding spot behind the bush and watched the mall. The day was very energetic. It didn’t take long before fights began to break out.

     Usually, Helena didn’t really care about the fights, but something about today made her really anxious. The people seemed riled up—vicious. What was making them feel that way? The endless earthquakes? The rolling blackouts? The government’s inability to explain why this was all happening? Helena was annoyed with the nation’s leaders’ failure to understand why all of this was going on. But that didn’t make her volatile.  It just made her yearn for the truth.

She had been at her hideout for about 15 minutes, and five different fights had already broken out. All of them were very lethal. The last one resulted with a man sprawled out on the ground. Helena was pretty sure that he was bleeding to death. Her gut was telling her that she should get out of there. Helena reluctantly had to cut her day short. She’d promise to resume her search for Jade tomorrow.

     Her original plan was to watch the mall for Jade for a few hours and then scavenge for food. But seeing how riled up people were today, Helena was starting to think that the latter part of her plan was no longer a good idea. Just then, her stomach growled, and Helena groaned. She had to scavenge for food. The only thing she had eaten was peanuts, and she ate that for dinner the night before.

     Helena waited until she was several blocks away from the mall before she attempted to scavenge through houses.

     The neighborhood was still good—in that it was safe. So, Helena figured she would be ok looking for food there. That thought didn’t deter her from picking up a piece of wood for a weapon, though. She stood at the end of the block, looking over the houses. She was trying to figure out which house looked promising. Helena wanted to get in and get out as quickly as possible. She didn’t want any drama.

     The mini brick mansion, a few doors down, looked very hopeful. Helena began making her way to it but came to an abrupt stop. If the home looked promising to her, then it probably looked desirable to looters too. Helena began to look for another house.

     The one thing that she always admired about living in Troy was the variety of homes in the neighborhood. You could find a mini-mansion and an old farmhouse on the same block. It amazed and confused her.

     Helena made her way to the old farmhouse that was on the corner. She almost missed it because it was blocked by so many trees and bushes. As she approached it, she realized that the house had a storm shelter right next to it. Helena smiled. This was looking like a great idea, after all. Helena went to the storm shelter’s door and banged on it. Then she quickly ran and hid on the side of the house. She waited a few minutes to see if anyone would come out. No one did. She repeated the process again just to be on the safe side.

     Once it was clear that no one was inside, Helena slowly opened the storm shelter door. Again, she waited to see if anyone was going to approach her. After a while, she finally descended the stairs.

     It wasn’t much in the storm shelter. There were just a small cot and a shelf with some canned food and bottled water. It appeared someone was living there at some point—the dishevelment of the pillow and blanket on the cot gave that away. But Helena could see the person hadn’t been there for a while, considering all the dust gathered on the cans and bottled water.

     Helena gathered up everything she could carry in her bag and headed out of the storm shelter. She froze at the entrance.

     There was a group of teens waiting for her there. It was five of them—three boys and two girls. They all looked to be around her sister’s age. Helena noticed that the guy closest to her was the guy who consoled her the day her parents died. She didn’t know how to proceed.

     “Hey there,” the guy smiled.

     Helena hesitated for a moment, looking over each teenager. “Hey.”

     “How are you doing?” the guy seemed genuinely concerned. “You know, since your parents died.”

     “I’m fine,” Helena snapped. She didn’t know why the question bothered her so much.

     “Find anything good down there?” one of the girls asked.

     “Not really. You can take a look for yourself if you want.”

     The smile the girl displayed told Helena that she knew she was lying. “No, that’s alright.”

     “We were just about to check out the house, actually,” the guy said. “You want to join us?”

     Helena nodded. Although she was a little leery about the group, the guy who consoled her made her a little curious. It was his kindness that was throwing her off.

     “Alright, everyone,” the other girl said in an authoritative tone. “In your positions.” She looked over at Helena. “You…”

     “Helena.”

     “Vicky. Helena, you stay here and look out for anyone coming.”

     “Ok.”

     “I’ll stay up here with you,” the guy smiled.

     “Wait for our signal before going inside,” Vicky continued.

     Helena had no clue what she was talking about, but she still nodded. She watched as the rest of the group spread out around the house. Helena couldn’t help but envy them; they all seemed like a team—a family. She wanted that desperately. She hated being alone.

     “I’m Johnathan, by the way.”

     Helena gave him a weak smile.

     “So, have you been surviving on your own…you know…since your parents died?”

     Helena turned away from him, not wanting him to see the tears she was struggling to keep at bay. She tried hard not to think about her parents since their death. Johnathan was making that impossible.

     Noticing her silence, he said, “Sorry again,…for your loss.”

     “Thanks.”

     “We’re clear,” the other girl came around the front. “Heading inside now.”

     Johnathan looked back at her. “Kim, I think Helena and I are going to keep a lookout while you all look around.”

     Kim looked over at Helena and raised her eyebrows. “Alright.”

     Johnathan watched Kim go into the house before he returned his attention back to Helena. “So, are you alone?”

     Helena sighed. She was trying to avoid answering that question. Still, she could tell that Johnathan was going to be insistent about it. “For now. I’m looking for my sister.”

     “Your sister? How come she’s not with you?”

     “She left home almost a year ago.”

     “How old is she?”

     “What’s with all the questions?” Helena snapped. She couldn’t understand why he was prying.

     “I’m sorry. I was just wondering if she was around my age. I might know her. We’re all from a group home. We’re pretty friendly with the runaways.”

     Helena began to feel bad for snapping at him. “You’re from a group home?”

     Johnathan smiled. “Yeah, we all are,” he gestured back toward the farmhouse.  

     “I’m sorry. She’s 16. Her name is Jade.”

     “Jade, huh?” he stared off. It appeared that he was concentrating—trying to put a face to the name. Finally, he wore the look of defeat. “I’m sorry. I don’t think I know her.”

     “That’s alright,” Helena didn’t bother to get hopeful. “I’ve been searching for her at the mall.”

     He looked at her wide-eyed. “The mall? You really went over there?”

     “I hid and watched from a bush two blocks away.”

     “But still, that’s really brave.”

     “Well, I’m not brave enough to go any further. That’s the only place I’ve looked for her.”

     “How old are you?”

     “14.”

     “I’m 15.”

     “Great.”

     “Why don’t you stay with us?” he suggested. “And I can help you look for your sister in other places.”

     Helena hated to admit it, but she liked the idea of having someone with her while she searched for Jade. It made the quest less scary. Johnathan seemed alright, but she wasn’t so sure about the rest of them.

“I don’t know,” she finally said. She didn’t want to appear too eager for company.

     “Oh, come on, you can’t expect to survive all on your own.”

     Helena looked away for a moment. Then she spotted a group of people going into a couple of houses down the street. She and Johnathan couldn’t be seen; of course, the trees and bushes did a great job hiding them. But her gut was telling her that if they stayed any longer, the outcome wouldn’t be pleasant.

     “Looters,” she warned.

     Johnathan let out two urgent whistles. The group quickly rushed out of the farmhouse. Before Vicky could ask what was going on, they all heard screams coming from down the street. They all ducked down behind the shrubbery.

     “We should go out through the backyard,” one of the guys said.

     “Lead the way, Will,” Vicky ordered.

     They all followed Will. Johnathan waited for Helena before following them. Once she was near him, he quickly grabbed her hand. She was about to protest when she realized why he took her hand. The group was fast—impossibly fast to Helena. They were already at the end of the half-acre backyard and hopping over the fence. Helena struggled to keep up. If it wasn’t for Johnathan, she was sure that the group would’ve left her by now.

     Once they got to the fence, Johnathan boosted her over and then quickly followed. They all ran a few more blocks until the screams could no longer be heard.

     “Great job as lookout, Johnathan,” Vicky said once they were at a safe distance.

     “It was actually Helena who spotted the trouble.”

     Vicky looked over at Helena. “Thanks.”

     “No problem.”

     “I was just telling Helena that she should join our crew,” Johnathan said, smiling.

     “Sure, she’s more than welcome if she wants. We could use another lookout.”

     “Plus,” Kim said, smiling at Helena. “I found this beautiful jacket for her.”

     It was an old faded blue jean jacket. Helena couldn’t tell if she was trying to be funny or what, but she actually did really like it.

     “Thanks,” Helena said, taking it.

     “You welcome.” The offer seemed genuine enough.  

     “I would like to join your crew, but I have one request,” the group looked at Helena skeptically.

     “What’s that?” Vicky asked.

     “We all stay at my house.”

     “We never stay at one location for long. That’s a good way to get you killed.”

     “I’m talking about just for the night.”

     Vicky raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

     “I’m looking for my sister. This will be my last shot before I give up on the notion of finding her at all.”

     Vicky considered Helena’s statement for a moment. “You look pretty young.”

     “I’m 14.”

     “Must be very hard surviving out here on your own.”

     Helena nodded.

     “Alright, Helena, you can have your one night. Lead the way.”  

Jade leaned against the bathroom door, holding onto her chest. Fear struck her body. It was happening again. It had been sixty days since her last attack, and she had been very cautious ever since. Because of her medical debt, she had to avoid hospitals at all cost, or she’d be discovered. She shut her eyes and focused on breathing. The sensation of an elephant sitting on her chest wouldn’t let up.

     “Shit,” she said to herself.

     She realized she had to stop this asthma attack naturally. Jade went through the abandoned house, her current residence, looking for something to help. Ginger root or honey, but she knew she wouldn’t find it in the house. The house lacked electricity for at least ten years, the time everything went wrong. Jade didn’t know what exactly happened and why everything started to go wrong, but it did. So, for ten years, the world had been living in chaos.

     Jade had to go out and hunt for something that would help her asthma. She grabbed her scarf, wrapped it around her mouth and nose, and headed out to look. Jade called her current living situation, the apocalypse. Some people thought it was pre-apocalyptic. Others thought it was post. Jade was convinced they were living in the thick of it. Unexplainable things were happening in the world: uncommon natural disasters, black-outs, robberies, killings. There were significant earthquakes that could sometimes be felt around the country. There were rolling blackouts that lasted for years. Eventually, only government buildings had resources to keep the power on. Everywhere else was darkness. The most vital and essential things, such as food and medicine, were hard to obtain. Everything turned chaotic—hectic. Medical costs skyrocketed. The use of medical care became practically illegal. Those who could afford it were the ones who could get it.

     That was hardly anyone.

     Jade decided to check the houses a few blocks away from her home. She scavenged through the houses nearby for any goods and knew they didn’t contain any treasures.

     No matter how many times she walked outside, the streets seemed eerie to her. What used to be well-manicured lawns, now looked like roads from third world countries. All the houses and buildings were currently abandoned. Most of them had parts of the roof, or the side of the building missing. What wasn’t standing was now a pile of rubble. The once beautiful blue skies were a hint of omnipresent orange. The Midwestern weather turned into a consistently warm atmosphere, which was something to get used to since she lived in Michigan. On rare occasions, it would be so hot that ash would fall from the sky.

     Jade was in hell.

    The two-story, brick house on the corner looked promising. Jade scanned the area to make sure nothing seemed suspicious or out of the ordinary. Everything appeared in order, but she still went inside cautiously. The front door creaked as she opened it. A coat of dust welcomed her. She pulled the scarf tighter around her nose and mouth.

     “Great,” she muttered.

     This was just what she needed—something to agitate her asthma even more. She paused for a moment—debating if she should retreat or not. She was already this far; she figured she should see it through. The door closed shut behind her. The bare light from outside gave her enough light to see. Her search began in the kitchen. Jade looked through the refrigerator, the cabinets, and the pantries. Nothing was found.

     The bathroom upstairs was the next target. Jade looked through the medicine cabinets. She was looking for anything—anything that would help with her attack. If Jade found an inhaler, that would be a jackpot. She hadn’t seen one of those in over a year.

     Jade searched for the next room, which was a nursery. Her chances were slim, but she checked the room anyways. A quick glance around the crib showed nothing but a green and yellow cover set that laid inside. A mobile of smiling jungle animals sat on top. Jade continued to look around the nursery. She noticed that, apart from the dust, everything seemed brand new. That meant that the baby wasn’t born when everything went wrong. Jade sympathized for the mother. Bringing a baby into this kind of chaos was unimaginable. She wondered if the baby was a boy or a girl. The room was painted light green, along with everything else there. Judging from the gender-neutral colors, Jade figured that the parents didn’t know the sex of the baby either.

     The master bedroom was Jade’s last stop. It was small, but the furniture was arranged where she could move around comfortably. She checked the top of the dresser and all its drawers. She found articles of clothing that she desperately needed, but nothing that would resolve the issue at hand. Jade shoved the clothes and a pair of boots into her bag and prepared to leave, but something caught her eye.

     On the nightstand, draped across a picture frame of a happily married couple, was a rosary. It had black beads, and a gold cross hung from it. Jade picked it up and ran her fingers over each bead. She wasn’t Catholic, but she did believe in a higher being. Right now, she could use a renewed strength in her faith.

     Voices interrupted Jade’s silent reflection. Judging by the sound, they were just outside the front porch. There was a group of them. Jade put the rosary around her neck and quickly, yet quietly, hid in the closet. The closet was deep and very dark. Jade maneuvered past clothes and shoes as she made her way to the back. She hid behind some jackets and dresses as the intruders entered the house. Jade’s hand grasped the handle of her knife, which was strapped around her thigh.

     Her breathing was quiet and slow.

     Since the chaos had broken out, violence had tripled—if not more. Killings, robberies, and rapes were happening more and more—especially with the lack of essentials. Apart from the misuse of medical care, there was no one around to enforce the other laws. It was every man for their self. So, if you had anything of value, like food, water, etc., you had to be prepared to fight or even kill for it. Jade had her share of run-ins with these threats, so she knew her way around a knife.

     “Look for anything of value,” a male voice said, “Spread out!” A variety of footsteps moved about the house.

     Jade was still.

     “Ain’t shit in the kitchen!”

     “Nothing in the bathroom!”

     “You think someone might be hiding out here?” someone else said.

     “Sucks for them if they are.”

     More footsteps were heard as another person entered. “‘member the last group we ran into?”

     “Yeah, those ladies weren’t so lucky.”

     “But I was!” another male’s voice boomed with laughter.

     “Check upstairs!” Footsteps ran up the stairs—it sounded like two people.

     “Aww, they were gonna have a baby,” a female voice said.

     “Who cares? Just find some valuables.” There was silence for a moment—just the sound of rumbling. “Nothing, check the other room.”

     “Hurry the hell up, people!” the leader yelled.

     “Ok, ok!” the woman said. “Geesh, what’s his hurry?”

     “No idea.”

     Jade could hear the slamming of drawers and doors throughout the house. She positioned herself closer to the corner wall in the closet. Her breathing became very still. Just like she predicted the closet door opened. She made sure that she wasn’t in a position where light could hit her.

     “Damn,” the woman said, “These people had no taste in clothing.”

     Jade’s hand grasped tighter around her knife’s handle as the woman made her way further inside.

     “That’s not what we came for,” her partner said.

     “Move out!” the leader yelled, “There’s other houses to hit!”

     The woman smacked her lips and slammed the door. Jade heard their footsteps go downstairs and out of the house. She waited for a moment. The front door closed. She started to breathe normally—hard and ragged. Finally, she came out of the closet. Someone hit her from behind as soon as she stepped out. Jade fell to the floor.

     “Surprise, bitch!”

     Jade looked up at the woman and kicked her as she launched at her. The woman stumbled back. She was about to yell out to the others when Jade kicked her in between her legs. The woman doubled over. Jade jumped up and was able to block a punch from the woman in time. She returned a blow, and the woman stumbled back. The woman quickly recovered and tackled Jade. They both went tumbling back into the dresser. Jade kneed her in the face. The woman grabbed a bat and started swinging it at Jade.

     Jade pulled out her knife.

     The woman smiled. “She’s come to play.”

     “Jesus, will you shut the hell up.”

     The woman came charging with the bat. Jade moved her body to the side—her arm protecting her head. Jade caught the blow on the shoulder. She grabbed the bat and pulled the woman closer to her. She gave the woman a quick cut on her stomach. The woman jumped back, a little surprised that Jade cut her. Taking advantage of her being caught off guard, Jade pulled the woman’s hair and bashed her head against the dresser. The woman dropped to the floor—unconscious.

     Jade looked around, took some of the clothes the woman was criticizing earlier, and tied her up to the bedpost with them. She tied a scarf around her mouth so she wouldn’t scream when she woke up.

     “Lyanna!”

     Jade rushed to the bedroom window and saw that one of the guys were heading back that way. She looked back at the woman, who was called Lyanna, and saw that she was still knocked out. Jade rushed out of the room and downstairs. She went out the back door and hopped over the fence.

     Jade ran for her life.

     “Lyanna!” she heard again in the distance.

     Jade kept running until she had to stop. She held her chest, “Shit.” She had to go to the hospital. At this point, it was inevitable.

Jade stood a few blocks away from the hospital—the emergency entrance in sight. She was scoping the place out to see what their security was like. How often did security make a patrol? Did they run your name before or after they took care of you? These were just some of the things she needed to know before she did what she had to do. Unfortunately, she didn’t see how the staff operated inside. It was a huge risk to take, but she had to take it or die.

     Making her way to the emergency entrance, each step was getting harder and harder to take. Her breaths were getting shorter. The stress of entering the hospital was making it harder. It was now or never. She would figure something out once inside. She always did.

     The hospitals had drastically changed. Back when everything was normal, there were people in and out of the hospital. Busy for those who worked there. Now hospitals were a dead zone for the living. Hardly anyone went in for medical emergencies anymore.

     As things deteriorated, medical care and equipment became rare and expensive. The government still had little control over people and implemented a law regarding treatment compensation: no payment, no treatment. People thought it was a joke until the government released the DCs, an aggressive task force that captures and imprisons those in medical debt, known as debtors.

     Horror stories began to float around—DC officers abusing their power, torturing people, doing unspeakable things. The government didn’t seem to care. At this point, the only major crime to commit was to abuse the medical system.

     A cruel world.

     Jade pressed on. She walked up to the registration desk. Two women sat behind the counter flipping through old magazines, which they’ve probably read a thousand times. Their bored expressions made them look like twins. It was a struggle for Jade to catch her next breath.

     “May I help you?” one of the women asked. By her tone, she seemed very uninterested.

     “I’m-having-a-asth-”

     “Name?”

     “Sarah-Blane,” Jade saw that it was the name of the woman who owned the abandoned house. She had several aliases and was glad to add this to her roster.

     One of the women typed her name on the computer while the other put a wrist band around Jade’s wrist.

     “Come around back,” one of them said.

     The door next to the desk opened, and a male nurse greeted Jade. “What brings you in today?” he took her blood pressure.

     “Asthma-attack,” Jade relaxed a little. She was still in an abandoned area, so the security wasn’t that tight.

     “Ok, let’s get you that breathing treatment,” he put Jade into an exam room. “Be right back.”

     Jade sat on the exam table with her head hanging low, and her eyes closed. She focused on breathing. Jade just needed to get through this treatment and sneak out before they figured out who she really was. Hopefully, she could score something along the way. There was a small knock at the door.

     “Ms. Blane?” a younger man came into the room. “How are you feeling today?”

     “Been-better.”

     “I hear you’re having an asthma attack.”

     Jade nodded.

     “Ok well, the doctor should be with you shortly. I just need to get some information from you first. Where are you currently staying?”

     “In-between-houses. My-aunt-stays-on-the-west-side.”

     “Address?”

     “It’s-it’s-it’s,” Jade swayed a little as if she was about to pass out.

     “Ok, ok, I’ll get that from you later. I just need a drop of your blood,” the guy pricked Jade’s finger and added her blood droplets on a slide. “The doctor will be with you shortly.”

     Jade figured she had about 45 minutes. Hospitals used people’s blood samples to determine who they were and if they owed any medical expenses. When people realized that the new medical law was real, they started to use fake names. The government required that hospitals take blood samples and run them through a database to see if they owed any money. Hard to trick the system when they have your DNA.

     “Ms. Blane,” the doctor entered. “I have your breathing treatment.”

     Jade gave a fake smile.

     He set up the machine and handed her the mouthpiece. “I’ll be back to check on you.”

     Jade closed her eyes and inhaled. She was relieved to be receiving treatment. Her lungs welcomed them. For a moment she didn’t think about anything. Not the state of the world. Not the consequences she would face if she got caught. She let her mind roam free. She thought about the place she used to visit when things were good. It was a field by her house. It had this beautiful Gilead tree. She would lay under it when she wanted to escape from everyone. It was her safe haven—her home. Oh, how she wished she could go back there.

     The tightness in her chest began to lighten up. She was able to breathe more easily. The medicine in the breathing machine was getting low. Jade sat up. She had to plan for her escape. She listened out for voices outside her door. Any moment now they were going to see that she was a debtor and the DCs would be there to get her.

     The machine started to whistle—letting her know that it was all out of medicine. Jade jumped off the examination table and wrapped her scarf around her face so that she was unrecognizable. She quickly searched the cabinets and drawers in the room. Rubber gloves, face masks, Band-Aids, and alcohol pads were stuffed in her bag. Jade took a deep breath and headed for the door.

     She cracked open the door a little to see if she saw or heard anybody nearby. Everyone sounded far away. She walked out of the room, quietly and quickly. The nurses at the nurses’ station could be heard talking.

     “Did the identity confirmation come back for exam room 3?”

     “Need a couple more minutes.”

     Jade kneeled and leaned against the wall. She made sure that they couldn’t see her and then moved quickly.

     “You think she’s a debtor?”

     “Call the DCs.”

     “Just leave her be, will ya.”

     “It’s the law, Stacey. I’m not getting imprisoned to protect some debtor.”

     “Look where we are?! Everyone’s a debtor!”

     “Not my problem, Stacey.”

     Jade managed to turn right down a corridor without being seen. She started looking for exit signs.

     “We’re supposed to help people. Heal them. Not imprison them for their sickness,” Stacey said.

     “You’re just emotional because we had to report that mother and her child.”

     “And it wasn’t right!”

     Stacey’s co-worker ignored her last comment and began scrolling through the computer. An alert popped up. “Jade Willer!”

     “What?”

     “It’s Jade Willer, get security!”

     Jade was at the end of the corridor. She made a left down another hall and began to jog.

     “Just let her go!”

     “No chance in hell Stacey!”

     A couple more turns down two more corridors and then she hit the jackpot. Jade saw a cart with five boxes of inhalers on them and another with half eaten food. They both were left unattended. They were abandoned once it was alerted that a debtor was in the building. With one quick, swift movement, Jade loaded the goods in her bag. She spotted an exit door up ahead and went into an outright sprint. She burst through the door and into the night.

     She kept running until she was miles away from the hospital.

     She kept running until she couldn’t run anymore.

For the first time in a long time, Jade actually felt relaxed. She found a house to stay in that was close to the city, but far enough to avoid the DCs. Most of her days were spent sleeping and reflecting on life before the madness. For the most part, she was an average teen. She had friends. A boyfriend, Vincent. A lovely family, whom she missed dearly and now realized that she’d completely taken them for granted. She sat up from the floor in one of the rooms she was sleeping in. She rested her hand on her forehead. She tried not to think about her overbearing mother. It killed her to think about her loving, caring father. And oh, the affectionate laugh of her little sister! How she wished she could hear her laugh again. Jade hadn’t seen her family in a while. Long before things started going bad.

     Jade got up and started looking around for some hygienic items.

     “You’re so damn selfish!” Jade recalled her mother saying. She had just come back four hours after curfew. She was nonchalant about the situation and about causing her family such worry.

     “We thought you were dead or something!”

     “What’s the big deal?” Jade laughed. “I’m here now so relax.”

     Her father shook his head, and her sister shifted in her seat. Jade was in her rebellious phase, and she was wreaking havoc on her family.

     “Were you out with Vincent again?”

     Jade didn’t answer her mother.

     “I’m tired of this shit, Jade! I told you I don’t trust that boy!

     “Ma chill out!”

     “What the hell were y’all doing at 2’oclock in the morning!”

     “None of your business!”

     “Enough, Jade!” Jade stood stunned. Her father never raised his voice before. He approached her with his hand out. “Give me your phone.”

     “What?”

     “Give me your phone now. You will get it back by the end of summer.”

     “Are you kidding me?! You guys are overreacting!” Jade clutched her phone in her hand.

     “You’ve been gone for hours without a word, and we’re overreacting?!” her mother intervened.

     Jade’s father didn’t wait for another word. He forcefully snatched the phone out of Jade’s hand. She stood there, fuming. She and her parents continued to have their shouting match about unfairness, worry, and selfishness.

     “Why don’t you just leave Jade?!” her 12-year-old sister yelled at the top of her lungs.

     Jade felt like she was just punched in the gut. “What?”

     “Just leave! You act like you don’t wanna be here!”

     Jade stared at her sister. Has she been that hard to deal with? So hard that her sister wanted her gone for good? Her parents were silent—neither confirming nor denying the situation.

     “Just go!” her sister yelled. She got in Jade’s face. “Leave!”

     Jade slowly backed away. “Sorry I’m such a burden!” Jade ran away from home. No one went after her that night.

     Jade slammed the medicine cabinet so hard that the mirror cracked. “Great, that’s another 7 years of bad luck.”

     She stared at her reflection through the cracked piece of glass. She changed so much since then. Her once straightened hair was now in a curly, kinky state. Her dark brown skin that was once graced with makeup now showed all her flaws that she used to hate—particularly her freckles. Her brown eyes mostly stayed the same, but what was once happiness that lied behind them was replaced with sadness and anger.

     She began searching through the cabinet under the sink. “Where the hell is the tissue and soap?”

     Thinking about her family always put her in a bad mood. How could she have been so stupid? She had a loving, caring, supportive family, and she took them for granted. Even though her parents begged many times for her to return home, Jade lived on her own for about a year before everything went wrong.

     It felt like it was yesterday. Jade was sleeping at a friend’s house, who was out of town when the house started to shake. She jumped up and manage to avoid the things that were falling. It was hard to believe that she was experiencing an earthquake—she was living in Michigan after all. Running outside, she saw all the neighbors fleeing about. The guy down the street got smashed by a tree that was in his front yard. The old lady next door fell inside a large crack that appeared in the middle of the street. A house collapsed with a family trapped inside. Their screams were agonizing.

     Jade was terrified.

     She was all alone.

     Jade tried to look for her family after the first natural disaster, but her house no longer stood. She searched for them for about a month, when finally, an old neighbor told her that they died trying to save the elderly woman down the street. Jade couldn’t believe it. When she asked about her sister, the neighbor couldn’t give her an answer. Jade steadily looked for her after that. She checked every FEMA shelter that was within a 50-mile radius, but no one ever seen nor heard from her.

     After countless more of natural disasters, robberies, and looting, the FEMA shelters were left abandoned. Workers were starting to get more concerned about themselves and their families than those who were eventually robbing them.  Jade began to lose hope once the shelters began to shut down. She tried to keep looking for her sister, but after a while, her attention focused on staying off the DCs radar.

     Jade figured that her sister was dead.

     “I need soap and fucking tissue!”

     Tears ran down her face. She was young then and didn’t know any better. When everything started to go wrong, she was alone.  Her family wasn’t there to love her, to comfort her, to support her. She shook her feelings off. She needed to focus on the task at hand. And that was finding soap and tissue. It had been weeks since she used those items and she couldn’t bear her smell any longer. She kicked the cabinet’s door—realizing that she would have to go out and search for them. She put on her boots, wrapped her scarf around her nose and mouth, and headed out.

     It was quiet out.

     Jade never really saw a lot of people anyway, but today was a little too quiet. It was an eerie quiet. Walking three blocks over, she quickly dismissed the strange feeling that she had in the pit of her stomach. She looked through a few houses and came up empty. There was no soap or tissue to be found anywhere.  Jade knew what she had to do, and she dreaded it.

     The only places that had all the essential needs for survival were hospitals and government buildings—all the places that run your name. Jade sat on a porch to think for a minute. Although she was rationing, she was running low on food. Her little trip to the hospital was over a month ago. She thought about where to go.

     There was an Urgent Care facility that was two miles away. She could go there. There was always less security at an Urgent Care facility because they had less essential equipment than a hospital. And what was even better was that she was still on the poor part of town. She figured security would be even less if any at all.

     It was final: she would go to the Urgent Care facility. She would find tissue, soap, food, and anything else that was of good use. If she could get more inhalers, a breathing machine, or albuterol, that would be even better. Jade started off the porch.

     “No!” a piercing scream came from behind her. She quickly turned around to see no one there.

     More screams and gunshots followed. Jade ran to the backyard and stopped in front of the garage. There were DC officers. Debtors were trying to flee from them. They were doing a sweep—rounding everyone up and running their names to see who was in debt. But in this part of the city, they knew that everyone was a debtor.

     A woman was out running a couple of DC officers, but she tripped on something, and they pinned her down. She let out an agonizing scream. The woman struggled against them as much as she could, until a DC officer hit her in the head with a baton.

     Jade stood there, frozen.

     This was the first time she’d been close to the DCs since she watched her boyfriend and his family get taken away. She knew that she should run—put as much distance between her and the DCs as she could, but she couldn’t move.

     “What are you doing?!” a guy yelled to her, breaking her out of her trance. He was in the yard next door. “GO!”

     Jade took off running. The guy was right behind her. She ran in the direction towards the Urgent Care facility. The plan was for her to stock up on supplies and get as far away from the city as she could. Jade glanced down each street and saw that the DCs were doing a sweep. They were hitting the entire neighborhood simultaneously, collecting as many debtors as they could.

     The scene reminded her of the last time she saw her boyfriend, Vincent. She had been surviving with him and his family after the new medical law was implemented. They’ve been moving from house to house trying to avoid the DCs. Unfortunately, with Vincent’s father battle with cancer and her issues with asthma, it was hard for them to stay off the DCs radar.

     It was a year after the new medical law had been enforced, and Jade and Vincent’s father were at $100,000 apiece. Jade and Vincent were leaving out of an abandoned house when they saw his family being rounded up by DC officers. They both froze. Vincent pushed her into some bushes.

     “Stay here and don’t come out until the coast is clear.”

     Tears filled her eyes. “Don’t.”

     “Jade, please, just stay here,” he turned to leave but stopped. “I love you.”

     “I love you too,” she took a moment to really look at him. It felt like the first time in years. His flawless, olive skin; his bright smile; his beautiful chiseled face; and she never noticed how much facial hair he had for a 17-year-old. He was her first love, and she had a sinking feeling when he walked away.

     That was the last time she saw him. He was beaten unconscious and dragged away by the DCs. Two weeks later Jade heard that Vincent’s family died. A couple of months after that, she got word that Vincent became a bounty hunter for the DCs. She couldn’t believe it. Bounty hunters hunted debtors in return for food and shelter from the DCs. You didn’t need any specialized training to be a bounty hunter—only debt free. Jade couldn’t understand why Vincent would do that. She feared running into him again.

     Unbelievably, Jade was able to avoid the attention of the DCs. There were so many people squatting in the abandoned houses that it was a little too much for them to handle. Her breaths were getting shorter and shorter. Her asthma was becoming agitated from running and stress. She was about two blocks away from Urgent Care. It was noticeably peaceful. Jade figured she was ok here. She stopped abruptly—her hands on her knees.

     “You ok?”

     “Sh-it,” it was the guy who told her to run. She didn’t notice that he was behind her the whole time. Jade reached in the side of her boot and pulled out an inhaler. She took two quick puffs.

     “You ok?” he asked again.

     Jade nodded. She took slow breaths. The tightness in her chest loosened up. She was able to breathe more easily. She readjusted her scarf—to keep dust and peering eyes out. She started walking toward the Urgent Care.

     “Where you going?” the guy followed her.

     “To Urgent Care,” she looked over at the guy. He looked rough. He had long shaggy, disheveled brown hair, and a thick beard with eyebrows to match. His ivory skin looked well-tanned, but Jade could tell that he was tired and suffering.

     “Why?”

     “I’m gonna steal some supplies and get the hell out of the city.”

     “Are you crazy?”

     She turned around to face him. “These inhalers aren’t gonna last forever.”

     They stood in silence for a minute. Jade eventually resumed walking. The guy fidgeted with his hands for a moment. “I have diabetes,” he said as he caught up to her. “Insulin would be nice.”

     “And some food.”

     “Ok,” he said. “But we gotta be careful.”

     “I wouldn’t be doing it if I wasn’t.”

     “I’m David by the way.”

     “Jade.”

     They both walked towards the Urgent Care. Jade scanned the area for signs of any DCs.

     “Well this suck,” David said.

     “You think the DCs will be here?” Jade asked, ignoring his last comment.

     “Probably,” he looked around. He caught Jade’s eye. He smiled. She frowned at him—not knowing why he was smiling. David cleared his throat. “You know I hear that America is the only country that still charges for medical treatment.”

     “Riveting,” Jade never really concerned herself with what was going on around the world. She only involved herself with how she was going to get by day to day.

     “Yeah, Canada, Switzerland, New Zealand. They’re like safe havens for medical needs.”

     “How can you be so sure?”

     “I can’t, but it seems like any place is better than here. I mean the world is ending and all America can think about is how to capitalize on the last essential resources.”

     “Well, what choice do we have?”

     “We can fight. Or leave. Hell, anything would be better than staying here.”

     Jade didn’t say anything. She just gave David a strange look. He was sharing a lot for someone she just met.

     “Sorry,” he said. “I haven’t had the opportunity to share my thoughts with anyone else.”

     “Don’t wor…shit,” they both stopped walking. The entrance of the Urgent Care facility was guarded by a group of DC officers. There was a line of debtors who were getting their names checked.

     “Don’t run,” David whispered, “Just turn around and walk away slowly.”

     Jade readjusted her scarf and kept her breath still. They turned around and began walking away. Jade prayed that they would get away unnoticed. She ran her hands over the beads of her rosary.

     “Don’t you wanna get out of this fucked-up country?” David whispered. “Or at least fight against this shit?”

     Jade never thought about leaving or fighting against the government. She just learned how to adapt and survive. “Can we just foc—”

     “Hey! Stop right there!” They both turned around and saw a DC officer running towards them.

     “Run!”

     They took off running. David went left, Jade went right. She ran a couple blocks and then turned into an alley. Jade hopped over a fence and ran a few more blocks. She ran down four more blocks and made a left. Halfway down the block, a force hit her right side, causing her to fall in a front yard. She believed that it was a DC officer who tackled her to the ground.

     “Get off of ME!!” she managed to kick the guy in the face. He flew back, blood pouring from his nose. Jade got weak once she realized who it was.

     Vincent stared at her with anger in his eyes.

     “You lil’ bitch!” he yelled as he stood, each sound flinging blood in the small space of air, separating Jade from her attacker. As he stumbled forward, he managed an efficient kick to Jade’s stomach.

     “Vincent,” she managed to get out. She tried to gasp for air. She got up—only to stumble a few paces and fall again. Her asthma was triggered. It was hard to breathe. Jade was convinced that this was the end for her. She was going to die right there. Vincent laughed.

     “Having trouble there, Jade?” he dragged her into the street by her hair.

     “Vincent, please,” tears streamed down her face. This was not the same guy that she used to love. Jade always wondered what it would’ve been like running into him again after all these years. She prayed that it wasn’t like this.

     “Yeah, my family begged too,” he said, letting her hair go. A couple of DC officers began to approach them. Vincent kneeled on top of her. “Imagine how I felt when my mother died because of you and my father.”

     “Hold her down!” a DC officer ordered.

     Vincent held her arms down with his knees. Jade kicked, screamed, and struggled against him. He still managed to prick her finger. They ran her name.

     “No need to run her,” Vincent said, staring down at her with dead eyes. “Jade Willer, $600,000. I see you’ve had no problem racking up your debt Jade. Even after my mother got your treatments under her name. You just had to keep going. No matter if she was in debt. Selfish bitch!” He punched her.

     Jade could feel the blood running from her lip.

     She remembered that argument. It was the day his family was taken away. He wanted his mother to stop using her name to get Jade her breathing treatments. Vincent and his mother were in good health. His father and Jade not so much. His mother was using her name for both Jade and Vincent’s father. She collected a lot of debt because of that, which was why she was taken by the DCs along with Vincent’s father.

     Her results came back to the officers. “Cuff her.”

     “No!” Jade kicked and struggled as one of the officers tried to cuff her.

     Suddenly Vincent fell to the ground. Someone had tackled him. Jade watched as the two guys wrestled on the ground. Without any hesitation, she elbowed the DC officer that tried to handcuff her. He fell to the ground, and she kicked him until he was unconscious.

     The other officer made his way to her—baton in hand. Jade pulled out her knife and charged at him. She gave a slice to his baton hand, and he immediately dropped it. Slamming him to the ground, Jade began punching him until he was unconscious.

     Jade looked over at Vincent and the other guy wrestling. She realized that it was David. Vincent had gotten the upper hand and was now on top of David, punching him furiously. Jade jumped on his back and wrapped her arm around his neck. He fell backward, landing on top of her. It felt like the wind had been knocked out of her. David took one of the DCs batons and hit Vincent on the head—knocking him out.

     David helped Jade off the ground. “We gotta go.”

     Jade reached down in her boot and took out her inhaler. “Thanks-for-that,” she said in between puffs.

     “Don’t mention it,” he wiped the blood from his nose.

     They saw another group of DCs officers running toward them; they ran in the opposite direction. They cut through side streets, backyards, and alleys. The city was chaotic. Debtors were running for their lives—young and old.

     They turned down another alley and hid behind a dumpster as more officers passed by. They watched as they dragged a lady down the street by her hair. She screamed in agony as they forced her into a debtor transport van.  There were several people chained in the back. They shoved the woman onto a bench and handcuffed her hands and feet to it. Once the officers closed the doors, Jade and David could hear courageous voices screaming and shouting.

     “Corruption!”

     “Please let me out!”

     “Greed!”

     “Get me out of here!”

     “Capitalism!”

     “Please! Someone help me!”

     David shook his head. “Don’t you wanna fight against this?”

     “I’m just here to survive,” How could she fight? Jade was only one person. She just looked out for herself. She had become so desensitized. For that, she felt ashamed.

     No wonder Vincent hated her.

     A piercing scream broke up their discussion.

     Jade froze.

     A DC officer was dragging a young girl away. The young girl put up an intense fight and was subjected to blows from the officer. Jade was horrified. All she could see was her sister receiving the severe violence from the officer. Jade knew that the young girl wasn’t her sister—her sister would’ve been a woman by now, but the young girl reminded Jade so much of her. Her short, pixie hair disheveled as she shook her head back and forth in resistance. Her big brown eyes looked around frantically for someone to save her. Her small, narrow nose scrunched up every time the officer punched her petite frame.          

     Jade was in shock. She couldn’t believe what she was seeing. Why did they have to deal with this? With everything else they had to go through once the world fell apart, why were the very same people integral in rebuilding the world being beaten, tortured, ripped apart from their families, and murdered for trying to survive?

     Jade’s haggard breathing calmed.  Her shock turned into anger. Her anger turned into hatred. She just wanted to escape—escape from everything. She wished for her family. She wished for Vincent to love her again. She wished for the world not to end. She wished for Canada, for Switzerland, for New Zealand. She wished for rebellion towards the DCs and the government. Before she knew it, she stepped from behind the dumpster.

     The world around her slowed.

     The debtors’ yelling and screams seemed incoherent. The DCs attacked their victims in a robotic motion. It seemed like the young girl’s beating was even more brutal than before. It was as if it was all a dream, but Jade’s heart and mind told her differently. Her eyes met the young girls—they pleaded for help. The knife left Jade’s hand so effortlessly—the blade giving the tips of her fingers a kiss goodbye. She didn’t think. She just reacted. All she saw was an innocent young girl who looked so much like her sister. She was in danger—being apprehended by a DC officer.

     So, the knife left Jade’s hand—the blade kissing her fingertips.

     The knife went into the officer’s chest, and his body froze. His eyes bulged, and he stared at Jade—right into her eyes. He stared at her knowing he was dead. Jade wondered if he would be able to pay for the hospital fees to save his life. His look told her he wouldn’t.

     Crimson blood oozed down his chest. He dropped the young girl and stumbled back. Without warning, he went down like a fallen tree. Jade stood in disbelief for a moment—her first kill. She had run-ins with people before, but she was always able to fight them off and escape. Something changed. She could no longer just stand by and watch as injustice and corruption unfold. She had to make a stance.

     Jade stared at the young girl. “No more surviving,” she said more to herself.