The Change

by Cass Kim

  “There’s an emergency! Stop. Just stop pulling the curtains open. It’s all over the news.” She darted back over to the door and rechecked the deadbolts.

  “Hey, hey, June. Take a breath. Nobody here knows what you’re talking about.” Miranda’s voice was calm, placating. As if she was used to this spunky girl being worked about something.

  The girl stopped short. “Oh. Yeah. Here, everybody sit at the big round table and I’ll bring up the news app on my phone. We’ll watch it together. Then you all can freak out too.”

  Holly’s too-full stomach felt nauseous as she and Luke moved to the bigger table. She should not have had that last bite of dessert. They waited there with Jeffers and this new girl while she punched buttons on her phone. Her aunt went to the back to get somebody named Adam, who was a prep cook. They all leaned in together as June propped her phone against the sugar holder, making the video full screen and turning the volume up as high as it would go.

  The news anchor was sitting at the desk, her face serious and her lips tight as she read the teleprompter. There was a news ticker stating, “The following cities are in a state of emergency. All residents are to remain off the streets. 911 operators are flooded with calls, and emergency services will be slow to respond.” The words kept scrolling through every major city Holly knew on the East coast. Then it scrolled past those cities, and into cities closer: Philadelphia, Detroit, St. Louis, Columbus, Chicago. Holly’s brain was so busy reading the list that she didn’t even hear what the anchor was saying at first. Slowly, she turned her attention to the words being spoken.

  “-After dark the violence has been worsening. Authorities are issuing a preemptive warning for cities in Central and Pacific time zones to obey a six o’clock curfew. All residents in the northern portions of these time zones are being urged to consider an hour earlier.”

  Holly looked at the clock, now reading just before five. But the scrolling line had already declared Chicago in a state of emergency.

  “The violence of these attacks is escalating by the hour. The DEA is reporting that the amount of people using the drug is abnormally high, and they have been unable to trace a source. Many individuals do not fit a profile and have no history of drug use. Some are children. There is suspicion that people are unintentionally ingesting the substance.”

  Holly’s aunt gasped when the news anchor reported that children were involved in the attacks. Children. Children and drugs? Something just did not feel right. Jeffers was sitting with his head hanging low, the wrinkles on his weary face a map of sadness. Adam sat next to him, gripping the edge of the table with white knuckles at he listened. Holly’s chest felt hollow, too light. Like her lungs were made of helium.

  “These attacks have not been isolated to the United States. There are reports coming in across the world, from every major city in Europe, China, Africa, Japan, and more. There does not seem to be a country unaffected at this time. I repeat, there is no safe zone. All flights are grounded, no ships will be allowed to return to port until authorities have pinpointed the cause.”

  June was staring at the screen, her mouth half open, eyes riveted. Her toes were tapping a staccato rhythm on the chair leg next to her. Next to her, Luke was frantically texting on his phone, face pale.

  Holly clasped her hands together, in her lap. Would her parents be stuck out in the ocean? What if somebody on the ship had the drug in their system? People did that, right? Drank and did drugs on vacation.

  “At the request of the Chicago Police Department, Joe Jurgess has been pulled off the streets. There are no longer going to be live updates from the ground level. The Chicago Police Department has issued a ‘shelter in place’ order. The subways are shut down. The streets are not safe. If you are at work, stay there. If you are home, stay there. Stay put and stay indoors. We go now to the footage from earlier today.”

  Holly’s heart sat in her throat as the screen changed, a little blurb claiming the footage was taken at four forty-five this afternoon. That was when she and Luke had been eating desserts, laughing and bickering over which was a better fit for the menu. That was just a little bit ago.

  The cameras showed police arriving on a scene of mayhem. Three men were pushing down a hot dog cart and tearing metal pieces off. Disheveled, with blood streaking their faces and clothes, their business suits were ruined. The first one to wrench off the wheel levelling jack swung it at one of the others. The scene cut to an area off to the side where the crumpled form of the vendor lay, his back at an unnatural angle. Behind him other motionless dark lumps lay scattered across the sidewalk that looked suspiciously human in form. Then just black, blank screen. A moment elapsed before a new horror story appeared. A different area, time stamped a few minutes later.

  Holly squinted at the tiny images trying to make out what was being shown. It was a crowd of people, running between cars stuck in gridlock. Some were standing on roofs looking just off to the side. People were screaming. A body flew onto the screen, smacking into the roof of a stationary car, and sliding down. A trail of blood smeared across the back of the car, marking the trail of the prone man. The camera angled in.

  Holly’s stomach heaved as she realized that the body was missing half the contents of his abdomen. There was a gaping wound with flaps of ragged skin, dark purple tissues trailing out. His hand was bloodied and three of the fingers were bent up, crooked and swollen. Desperately she swallowed down the bile creeping up her throat. She turned away from the brightly lit phone.

  “June, I think maybe we should turn that off.” Miranda’s voice was hollow, barely carrying over the sounds of panic from the tinny speakers.

  The girl reached out a shaking hand, clicking the screen off. She turned to the others, her blue eyes enormous in her pale face. “What do we do? Do we… Should we stay here?”

  “Yes.” Adam was nodding, scanning the few remaining stragglers on the street running past, cell phones glued to their ears, jackets flapping behind them. “The news said to stay put. I live like, four miles from here. There’s no way I’m trying to go out there.”

  Jeffers lifted his head slowly, surveying the open dining area. “We need to turn off the lights out here and close the rest of the curtains.” He ran a hand down his face, cupping his chin. “I think our best choice will be to wait it out in the kitchen. And we better hope nobody decides it’s a good day to do some looting.” His voice was firm gravel.

  Holly wondered how many emergencies he’d live through in his long life. Seemed like he had some experience. Her gut was telling her they’d be needing it.

  Chapter 6

  They were huddled in the kitchen, tense and quiet, with only a single fluorescent over the prep table breaking the total darkness. Based on Jeffer’s instructions, the main doors were now blocked with tables and the curtains closed tightly across the large picture windows. The back door remained locked, triple checked by Miranda. A couple of chairs barricaded the swinging door to the dining room. The group had as secured the eatery to the best of their abilities.

  They’d checked the news again on June’s phone as soon as they got settled, but nothing new had been reported. More attacks. No answers. The focus was on reiterating the shutdown of all public transportation. The order to shelter in place was looping through the ticker. People were reminded to text rather than trying to call loved ones, as the phone lines were overloaded. After a while, she’d turned the broadcast back off, stating she needed to save her battery. Nobody had a phone charger.

  Luke was still texting back and forth on his phone, jumping to respond the second he got a text back. The constant picking up and setting down of the phone, the loud buzzing in the quiet room, was grating on Holly. They were all terrified, all tense. Miranda was preparing dry ingredients for different batches of pasta, claiming that everything would be fine in a day or two and the restaurant would still need to open. Holly knew that it was really the precise measuring and the habit of the behavior that her aunt wanted. She’d always turned
to baking or cooking when she was stressed. The week Holly and her parents moved out of the city her aunt had made fourteen batches of cookies. Holly was watching her slide a knife across a measuring cup to remove excess flour when Luke’s phone vibrated on the lowest shelf of the metal prep table, making her jump. Again.

  “Look, dude, can you just keep that in your pocket between texts? Who are you even texting like that?” She tried to soften the second question, cringing at how the stress made her voice so harsh.

  He winced as he finished texting, tucking the phone into his pants pocket. “Sorry, I guess that’s kind of annoying. It’s my Mom. She doesn’t live in the city, but she saw the news, and she’s having a hard time with it.”

  “Oh.” She wondered if her parents even knew anything about what was going on. If they did, she was sure they’d be freaking out. But if they’d heard, surely her Dad would have paid for the internet to text her and Aunt Miranda. Maybe they were trying to text her and going crazy, since she had no way to respond. They would have texted Aunt Miranda for sure if that was the case.

  “Aunty Mir,” Holly called over, “did you get any messages from Mom or Dad?” Everybody else’s phones had been going off with texts throughout the barricading process. The whole city was panicked and stuck in place with nothing to do except text and watch the news. Adam, the prep cook, had been texting his girlfriend nonstop. He wasn’t even setting the phone down between texts at this point. At least he had his on silent, not vibrate.

  Her aunt paused and dusted her hands on her apron before pulling her phone out to check again. “No, Kid, I think they probably haven’t even heard anything.” She clucked her tongue for a moment, thinking. “I doubt they would tell a ship full of people that they’re stuck out at sea during an emergency unless they absolutely must. Lord knows I wouldn’t.”

  Holly nodded and silence reigned again, punctuated only by the sounds of vibrating phones and the gentle scrape of Miranda’s measuring.

  “You know, you should probably tell that guy you’re sorry,” June whispered from the other side of her. “You were kind of a dick.”

  Holly looked over at the other girl for a long moment and then nodded. Yeah, she was right. She was never going to get better at controlling her mouth if she didn’t start taking responsibility for her words. She reached over and gently poked Luke’s thigh.

  “Hey. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you like that. I’m glad your Mom isn’t in the city.”

  He nodded, shrugging. “It’s alright. We’re all stressed.”

  She shook her head, looking him in the eye. “No, it’s not alright. You’ve been nothing but nice to me all day and I’ve been rude half the time. I’m trying to be better. So, I’m sorry.”

  He smiled at her. “Then, I formally accept your apology.”

  “Cool, thanks.” She gave him a small grin in return, searching for a way to continue the conversation rather than sit in silence. “So, um, do you have any siblings?”

  “Nah. It’s just been me and my Mom for as long as I can remember.”

  “Oh.” She wasn’t sure what to say to that.

  From Holly’s other side, June shifted, setting her phone down. She faced them now, crossed-legged. “I bet you’re a real Momma’s boy, huh? I get that. My Dad ran out on us after my little sister was born. Perfect example of why a girl needs to be independent. I bet your Mom is tough, and you, who do not look tough at all, are a Momma’s boy.”

  Scooting back a fraction, Holly placed her back more comfortably against the wall and gave Luke a better conversational vantagepoint. Not sure if she liked June’s honesty, or if it was just a little too close to mean; she’d just watch and see how he handled it.

  His ear tips and cheek bones were brushed with pink as he replied, “Yeah, I kind of am. I mean, how could I possibly not be? She’s worked really hard to help me get to college. I just want to work hard enough to repay her someday. I want her to be able to retire, not work two jobs until she’s eighty.”

  June nodded, wiping at the dark eyeliner ringing her eyes with one pinky. “I hear you. I was looking all over for a second job to help out with the bills when I got this one. I thought nobody was going to hire me since I had no waitressing experience.” She spread her hands, smirking a little. “And I’m not exactly everyone’s cup of tea.”

  Holly perked up, hoping to potentially get her own waitressing job here with no experience. “So, why did my aunt hire you?”

  The other girl winked at her. “Because my full name is Juniper. And she said she has a special place in her heart for a girl almost my age who was also named after a holiday plant.”

  Holly snorted. “Yeah, that makes sense.” Perfect. Aunt Miranda would definitely hire her if she asked.

  A few feet away, Adam set his phone down. Leaning around the table leg he called, “Wait, your real name is Juniper? I’ve known you for, like, half a year and I never knew that. What is your Mom some kind of hippie?”

  June sat straighter, pointing a finger at the prep cook. “If you call me Juniper even once, I swear to you, I will sock you in the face so hard you’ll lose a tooth.” She looked like she meant it.

  Adam ran a hand through his wavy hair, uncomfortable. “Yeah, yeah. It’s cool, you don’t gotta get all agro on me.”

  June kept staring at him, cracking her knuckles slowly.

  “I got it, June, chill!” His voice reminded Holly of when Joanie’s little brother was about to run to their Mom and tell on her for something.

  Holly’s gaze bounced between them as they held each other’s stare. Aunt Miranda had gone to the walk-in cooler for something, and Jeffers was staring toward the swinging door, ignoring all of them. Would they really get into a fight?

  Luke cut in, breaking the tension. “Yeah, uh, I know what you mean about trying to work extra to help make ends meet.” All three turned to him as he held out his arms, showing small bruises with little red puncture wounds on the soft skin inside each elbow. “I’ve been selling plasma ever since I moved here to help cover my own living expenses.”

  “Selling what?” Holly stared at his arms. It looked painful.

  “Plasma. It’s the extra stuff in your blood, not the red blood cells. They hook you up to a machine that draws some of your blood out, and filters out the plasma part of it, then puts the rest of it back into your body.”

  Holly’s face scrunched up. “That sounds gross. Does it hurt?”

  “Not really. It’s just like donating blood. The money’s pretty good, especially since you can study while you’re sitting there.” June was nodding along with Luke’s explanation, as if it was a common practice.

  “But… what do they do with that plasma stuff?” Holly had never heard of this before.

  June jumped in, “Sheesh, what is it twenty questions? They use it to build treatments and medicine and stuff. It’s all Big Pharma run.” the waitress nudged her gently to soften her words.

  Aunt Miranda entered, hands now clean, apron off. “Okay, guys, I think maybe we should check back in on the news and see if there’s anything new.”

  They stood and gathered at the prep counter where Jeffers was perched on the extra chair Miranda had pulled in for him.

  Holly couldn’t help but notice the battery was already down to thirty-five percent as her aunt brought up a local news station and clicked the volume high.

  The view on the screen was from a traffic camera they usually used to show the morning commute. Holly’s gut clenched as figures ran on the screen, desperately fleeing a group of people that were catching up with them at an alarming rate. They all watched in silence as the chasers crashed into cars or signs at full speed, not even flinching. They just kept running. The feed cut off as the first of the chasers caught the slowest of the runners.

  “As you can see, the drug users are abnormally fast. They do not appear to feel pain. Authorities are comparing the drug’s effects to that of PCP, sometimes known as Angel Dust. Initial toxicology screens from
the users captured in New York yesterday are coming back clear of known substances. Authorities have found no sources of distribution at this time. Americans, and the world, are waiting for answers.” The news anchor stacked her papers together and tapped them on the table to even the edges. Her lips were pressed together as she listened to somebody off screen. She nodded once, returning her gaze to camera lens.

  “We have breaking news that the violence has spread now to West coast cities. Officials are recommending that individuals start making preparations for staying indoors for several days. Fill up jugs of water, eat your perishable foods first. There will be no workers sent out to restore electricity to the areas with downed lines. More outages are expected as the rash of violence is continuing to escalate.”

  As if her words were an omen, the power flickered and then went out.

  Chapter 7

  The kitchen was pitch black. The only light was the soft blue glow of the phone screen, reflecting off the tense, still faces of the five people crowded around it. The sudden loss of the humming freezer fans heightened the sense of deprivation.

  Unaffected, the news reporter continued, “Police are sending out S.W.A.T. units to patrol the streets. We will continue to air coverage and updates as they roll in.” The station switched to a commercial and Aunt Miranda closed the app, switching to her flashlight mode instead.

  “Okay, guys. I’m at twenty-eight percent battery. How are your cellphones?” Holly and Jeffers both watched empty-handed as the other clicked their screens on to check.

  Adam cursed under his breath as he read his. “Twelve percent.”

  Shouldn’t have been texting his girlfriend so much.

  “I’m at forty still.” June waved her phone in the air.

  “I’m down to twenty-two right now.” Luke swallowed hard. “Do you have any regular flashlights around here?”

  “No... but… I might have some chafing dish fuel cans left over from when we did that party a few months ago,” Miranda replied slowly. “We could use those like candles for a while to try to save battery. I think they’re stashed in the host desk.” She started to pull at one of the stacked chairs blocking the swinging door into the dining room.