24 Hour Lockdown

by Virginia Henderson

  Thanks to my computer and software skills, it was easy to get into their system and browse through their records. I was flabbergasted to find just how financially strapped they are. For instance, the budget for their adult classes is only four thousand dollars! And construction for the children’s center, called the Treasure Cove, cost approximately seven thousand dollars.

  A decent library wouldn’t subject themselves to such low standards. If this is a building intent on encouarging education and higher vaules, shouldn’t they strive to offer only the very best? My desk alone at my office cost over five thousand!

  I shake my head and go to look through last year’s tax informaton, when I’m suddenly in complete darkness and the screen goes blank.

  The electitricty is out. I suppose this rickety old shack can’t afford to have a backup generator. At least I still have my little cubical. I bring up the flashlight feature on my phone.

  I check the time and see it’s just after eleven thirty. May as well get some sleep, it may be awhile before I get out of here.

  Joseph

  Sitting in the dark never bothered me. I just keep sitting in the chair, staring out in the darkness.

  To tell the truth, ever since that camping trip my family took when I was seven, I’ve found the darkness a comfort.

  My family has always been small. Just me, my brother, and my mom. Money was always tight, so most of our family vacations were spent at camping grounds.

  One time we had been hiking all afternoon when a freak thunderstorm hit suddenly. We were some miles from camp and didn’t have any choice but to take shelter in a cave. Thankfully, the cave was uninhabited and we waited out the three-hour storm.

  I remember how I wasn’t even scared in the dark cave with the rain pelting down, just as it is now. I guess it was because I wasn’t alone.

  Nick was the best brother in the world. Always there for me, even when it wasn’t convenient for him.

  And it was amazing how mom could make a can of soup feel like a five-course meal. She was clever, fun, kind, and resourceful. I guess she had to be after dad passed away.

  I just wish she had been just a little more careful later on in life when it came to her finances. If she had been, I wouldn’t be here right now.

  Melody

  I listen as Susan softly hums to her daughter. I can’t place the tune, but it’s familiar. Amelia is still sleeping and I have to admit I envy her. A shiver runs up my arm and I rub it.

  Susan looks up at me and smiles. “You never did tell us about yourself.”

  I hesitate for a moment and finger the corner of my book. “I didn’t, did I?”

  Her eyes are kind as she waits for me to continue. I bite my bottom lip. I’ve never told anyone the truth. I trust Susan, but I’m just not…ready to share what I’ve been through.

  Suddenly, it’s pitched black! I let out a scream and huddle into a ball. I feel a gentle hand on my back and I know it’s Susan. I hear her offering reassuring words, but I can’t believe them. I can’t see my hand just inches away from my face.

  “I don’t like the dark,” I quietly admit. “Or storms.”

  I can’t see her, but I hear her reply, “That’s ok. Amelia doesn’t either. Hang on, I’ll get my phone.

  I hear a click and see a small beam of light. It’s a flashlight from Susan’s phone! I let out a breath of relief, grateful for the light.

  “Thanks!” She really is a sweet soul.

  We are silent as we listen to the rain and watch as the light casts odd shadows around us. I’ve been thinking a lot about what happened earlier in our group. I guess now would be a good time to bring the topic up since Amelia’s asleep and it’s just the two of us.

  “I’m sorry if I upset you earlier when we found out about…your husband.”

  I hear her let out a tired sigh. “It isn’t your fault.”

  I look over at her. “Is there anything I can do?” I’m serious when I ask this. One of my goals in life is to stop injustice.

  She shakes her head. “I don’t regret marrying him. I wouldn’t have Amelia.”

  Before I can reply, she pulls out a child’s plastic container of cereal from her bag. “Are you hungry?”

  I am very hungry, but my morals stop me from taking a handful. I hate to be rude, but I just have to ask. “Is it gluten free?”

  Chapter eight

  Susan

  I’m glad Melody finally fell asleep. My heart goes out to the young woman. It’s hard trying to keep a brave face when you’re scared. She has a good heart and I really think there’s something she’s keeping from us. Not that I would force it out of her for anything.

  I’m having a hard time keeping my eyes open, it’s so late.

  When the power went out, the air conditioning also turned off. It’s getting a little stuffy, but at least it’s not mid-afternoon and stifling hot. We would all be miserable.

  I wonder if anyone else is still awake. I doubt it, but who knows?

  I can’t hold back the yawn that washes over me. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to take a quick nap. I can set an alarm on my phone for an hour or so. This way I’ll be wide awake when Amelia does get up.

  I take out a number of the books in my bag and use them for a pillow. Before I can really get comfortable, I drift off to sleep.

  George

  My phone is on five percent. That’s why I’m sitting in the dark and grumbling to myself.

  I should be used to this by now. Nothing ever works out for me. If it isn’t the dogs puking in my shoes just before I leave for work, it’s the power going out just when I’m finally getting somewhere on my play.

  I did notice a beam of light coming from the kid’s area. If I had a nickel to call my own, I’d bet that it’s Susan and her brat.

  I scratch my chin and lean back. The storm’s still going strong. If anything, I’d say it’s picked up.

  My stomach growls, reminding me I haven’t had dinner. It’s true what they say about writers starving. It’s the price we pay for all that creativity. Luckily, I have a half way decent job that I hate or I’d be a hundred pounds lighter. Not that it wouldn’t be a bad thing…

  My stomach goes off again, louder and longer this time. “Alright already!” I feel around for my backpack I left on the table and then I fumble inside for a bag of sunflower seeds I always try to keep on hand. They help me focus when I can’t write, which is about eighty percent of the time.

  I enjoy the salty taste and wolf down another handful. It crosses my mind for a brief second to offer Susan some. The thought only lasts a second, but they say it’s the thought that counts.

  I can’t help but wonder why we haven’t heard police sirens or anything yet. I’m no cop, but shouldn’t there be a squad out there looking for that bum? Search lights? Unless the guy’s not in the area and he’s somewhere else.

  I suddenly choke on a handful of seeds as an unbelievable thought occurs! How do we know for sure that there is an actual lockdown? The only one who got the message was that librarian and she ain’t being very sociable...

  I have to laugh at myself. Who would be that crazy to keep us locked in here for no reason? You’d have to be pretty sick to do that.

  Marc

  “There it is again!”

  I sit up in alarm and strain to hear where it’s coming from. This is the second time I’ve heard a noise. Like someone moving around up here. I’m wisely staying inside my office. Not hiding, just being cautious, and practicing self-preservation. Marc Amos is no coward.

  I haven’t been able to get a wink of sleep this whole time. And it has nothing to do with sleeping in a different place. Being an important man at my company, I’m required to travel often. I’ve never had any difficulty sleeping in hotels.

  Obviously, this isn’t a hotel. I suppose I can’t get comfortable because I’m still dressed from this morning, and the fact that there’s no bed. Not to mention I’m reduced to sitting in a swivel chair that leans back precariously.
/>   Another unwelcome noise interrupts my thoughts. This time it sounded as though a book fell on the floor. But how does a book spontaneously fall from the shelf? Unless…

  My pulse races as I consider the possibilities. I’ve never been superstitious in my life. Ghost sightings and that sort of thing are nonsense! Everything has a logical explanation. Which means there must be someone up here with me.

  It’s time to remind them who they are messing with. I get out of my death trap of a chair with my phone in hand and wave the light around the room.

  “Show yourself!”

  I’m sure the jokester will give himself up. But he doesn’t. Instead, I hear the intruder running, footsteps shuffling as whoever was there flees.

  I consider packing up my belongings and going back downstairs, but Marc Amos never backs down. I was here first and I will not leave until I decide to and of my own free will.

  I return to my office and attempt to get some sleep.

  Joseph

  I bang my fist on the sink counter. I can’t do this anymore! I can’t stand being locked in here with that jerk. It was me, stalking through the aisles, dropping books.

  I couldn’t stand just sitting in the dark. I had too much time to think about mom and how she suffered that final year. I had to get up and walk around. That’s when I decided to go upstairs and scope out the place. It wasn’t until I got up here, that it occurred to me to mess with his mind. Gaslight him a bit, just for fun.

  And it was all in fun too, until I reached into my pocket and felt my knife. It’s like I froze. Who says plans can’t change? Mine could. That thought popped in my head and I couldn’t shake it.

  Just now I had to run to the restroom to keep from killing him right then and there. It would have been so easy, so simple. Yet, death is too painless for him. His pride being broken would torture him and that’s what I want. Besides, with just six of us here, the suspect list is slim and I’m probably at the top.

  I lean over the sink and feel stomach acid coming up. I kill the vile taste in my mouth with a swish of tap water.

  Just then, the room floods with light. The power’s back on. For a moment, it’s blinding but my eyes adjust pretty quick.

  I stare at my reflection in the mirror. It’s a wreck. My eyes are bloodshot from no sleep and my hair is sticking out all over because I’ve been running my fingers through it.

  I splash cool water in my face and take a deep breath.

  “You can get through this, Joe.” Joe is my brother’s nickname for me. I can hear his voice plainly in my head but I don’t believe the words. I can’t do this.

  This lockdown better end soon. For Marc’s sake.

  Melody

  I’m laying flat on my back in a round tunnel. I hear angry voices outside. They are yelling and fighting. I try to cover my ears to block the hate, but I can’t.

  Suddenly, a loud roar of an engine comes to life and I feel myself moving forward. I squeeze my eyes shut, terrified of the unknown.

  When I open my eyes again, the confining tunnel is gone, and I see stars above. The voices are gone and all is as it should be, peaceful.

  My moment of rest is short lived and I feel myself falling. The air rushes in my face and it’s hard to breath. I’m freefalling at a dangerous speed.

  I wake up just before I hit the ground. My body jumps at the imaginary impact. I don’t enjoy the sensation. It’s as if I’ve crossed over between the stages of dream and awake.

  To my surprise, the lights are back on. It’s a miracle! I smile and look over at Susan. She is fast asleep beside Amelia.

  I pick up Susan’s phone to check the time.

  “12:58,” I say to myself. I’ve never been up this late. I wonder if everyone is asleep. I hear the rain outside.

  I stand up and walk over to one of the large windows. It’s hard to see outside with the lights on, so I lean in and cup my hands around my eyes to see better.

  It’s pitch black out except for a lone street light. I can see the rain coming down hard as it splashes on the sidewalk. I squint and see that the sidewalk is nearly flooded! In the distance, I see a flash of lightening.

  I back away and go back to where I left Susan. I notice my book sitting on the floor and grin when I realize I can finish it now.

  Chapter nine

  Susan

  I’m having another one of those dreams. The kind of dreams where Mitch, Amelia and I go to the park. Where we are a real family. The kind of family who can express their feelings in a healthy way. We can laugh, tease, and talk to each other.

  The wrinkles around Mitch’s eyes crinkle when he grins and I can’t help but smile back. Amelia giggles when Mitch makes a funny face and tickles her.

  Now we are home, having a family movie night. Amelia picks out one of her favorite cartoons and we all huddle on the sectional couch and share a bowl of popcorn.

  Then night comes and after Amelia is fast asleep, Mitch and I talk about everything and nothing. From the mortgage being due next week, to getting Amelia a pet hamster for Christmas. Occasionally we steal a kiss, but mostly we talk and laugh together, just enjoying each other’s company.

  And it’s over. I wake up to find myself laying beside Amelia in the library. Melody is absorbed in her book. I close my eyes and fight to get back to sleep and return to my dream.

  I would gladly take a terrifying nightmare every night, if I could only stop living this nightmare.

  George

  With the lights back on, I’m back to working on my play. Unfortunately, I don’t have that same creative overflow now. I’m fighting for words and exhausting my imagination. Isn’t that how it always is though?

  It doesn’t help that I keep getting distracted. Melody has walked past my table three times, carrying magazines back and forth. It wouldn’t be so bad if her sandals didn’t flop with each step she took.

  For the most part I’m trying to ignore her, but it’s hard when you can almost guarantee her return after ten minutes. I bet she’s only looking at the pictures, not even reading.

  This time when I look up and see her coming, I decide to say something. “Do you mind?”

  She tilts her head and frowns in confusion. “What do you mean?”

  I gesture to the magazine rack. “Can’t you be like a normal person and stay in one place? All this walking back and forth is annoying!”

  To further my frustration, she shakes her head and smiles. “Oh, George. What’s normal anyway? It’s the ways of a strict and narrowminded society that wants humans to be all the same. The same hair styles. The same clothing styles. The same ideas and opinions. They want robots, George. Robots who can’t think for themselves and therefore can’t defend themselves against a corrupt government. Don’t let the man…”

  I let out a groan and wave my hands to stop her. “Just shut it already! Good grief, I’m sorry I said anything!”

  She nods and continues on her way to the magazines. I keep my head down and try to block out noise she makes as she leaves. I need to focus on my work.

  Let’s see, Maurice is the main character. He finds himself and a few others locked down in a psych ward. Each of them was visiting someone, when a dangerous patient escapes!

  I nod as I’m finally back on track. I get as far as coming up with a possible chorus for the escapee to sing, when I hear those annoying sandals coming this way.

  I learned my lesson and take a different approach with her this time.

  “I’m surprised you’re wasting your time with those magazines when you could be upstairs reading real books.”

  Melody stops and I can tell she’s considering my statement. She glances toward the staircase and back at me.

  “What’s wrong with magazines?”

  I shrug carelessly and pick up my pen. “Nothing. If you don’t mind environmentally unfriendly products.”

  I see her start to reply and I interrupt. “Think about it. All those pictures require a lot of inks and harmful chemicals. Just think ab
out what that’s doing to our fragile environment.”

  That sealed it. Melody set the magazine on my table and walks upstairs. It wasn’t completely honest, but for now I smirk and go back to my writing.

  Marc

  Even though the lights are back on, the computer isn’t working anymore. It probably requires some special action by an employee. I would check my stocks on my phone, but I can’t get an internet signal.

  I’m content to organize my calendar on my phone when I hear someone coming up the stairs. I set my phone down and listen carefully for some hint of who it is. My guess is that it’s the same delinquent who was up here earlier causing trouble.

  I hear a distinct flop of sandals and then a familiar voice lets out a gasp. I recognize it to be Melody. I don’t think her personality includes pulling pranks so it couldn’t have been her.

  “Who has desecrated these books?” She exclaims.

  I sigh and reply loudly. “This is my temporary personal office until this lockdown ends.”

  I hear her walk around to my entrance and quickly add, “I’m not accepting visitors at this time.”

  Too late. She’s standing behind me and studying my handiwork with disappointment.

  “Oh, Marc. These books aren’t meant for this.”

  “I can do whatever I please. And right now these books are being used to hold up my personal office.”

  I stop as I watch her remove a book from the top of my right wall. I jump from my seat and wretch it from her hands and replace it.

  “How dare you try to destroy my office! Don’t you peasants understand that this is my refugee? Why don’t you go bother someone else?”