by J. Thorn
The door opened behind her and Megan, one of the tellers and Chloe’s closest friend at work, stood next to her.
“Wow, looks like the whole street lost power.”
“This is crazy. I’ve seen this on my street, but never with this many commercial businesses. Not without some sort of catastrophe like Katrina or something.”
“Well, something is going on because they can’t get the backup power to turn on either.”
Chloe turned. “Seriously?”
Megan nodded.
The doors opened again behind her and Chloe heard her boss’ voice.
“I’m sorry, folks, but for security reasons, we have to ask you to leave. We apologize for holding you here and for any inconvenience it may have caused.”
Several men glared at the security guard as he unlocked the door and began ushering people out only moments after he had locked them inside. Others walked out of the bank, some cursing beneath their breath and immediately reaching for their phones.
Mr. Sanderson approached the two women. “I only need a couple of employees to stay. If one of you wants to leave, that’s fine.”
“I’ll stay,” Megan said.
“No, you go home,” Chloe said. “I don’t mind staying.”
“Girl, just go. I know you don’t wanna hang around here.”
Chloe laughed. “All right. But I owe you. I’ll get you one of those frozen frappe things you like.”
“With almond milk,” Megan said, winking at her friend.
Chloe headed back inside, grabbed her things and then waved goodbye to her friends as she left work for the day.
Outside, traffic had come to a crawl. People honked. A cab driver poked his head out of his window, raising his arms in the air as he shouted obscenities at whoever would listen. A sizeable crowd had begun to gather on the sidewalk.
Chloe felt her stomach tighten and she noticed that the notifications on her phone had stopped. No bars on it, either. She headed down the sidewalk on a short walk to the bus stop. When she turned the corner, Chloe saw a horde of people gathering there. A bus sat there, unable to move due to the gridlock. Some people banged on the side of the bus with their fists, hollering at the driver to let them in. The inside appeared to be full.
“I have to get home and save my things,” a man shouted, banging on the door.
Chloe furrowed her brow and leaned over to a man nearby.
“Do you know what he’s talking about?”
The man looked her up and down, hesitating on seeing her prosthetic leg and then looking away with a nervous twitch. “Yeah. Apparently, the grid is down.”
Chloe looked to the bright sky. “Why? The weather is perfect. Is the power out elsewhere in the city?”
The man shrugged. “I don’t know, lady. That’s what I’ve heard.” He scanned the nearby buildings. “Look around you. Ain’t none of these places have any power.”
Chloe looked around. The power outage stretched as far down the street as she could see.
People continued to gather while the sirens of the emergency vehicles echoed off of the surrounding buildings.
She glanced at the bus and saw that more people had arrived, all hoping to board a vehicle that was already full to capacity. She pushed past the crowd and continued down the street. Chloe knew the routes well and decided to try a different stop that was a bit closer to her place.
She glanced at her phone again—still no service. Chloe shoved it back into her purse.
Chloe continued down the street. Each bus stop she passed was as congested as the last. Her heart beat quickened, and her breathing became fast and shallow. She started telling herself that she’d never make it home. Come that night, she’d be sleeping in the streets, taking cover in an alley.
A bang followed a fury of screams behind her. Chloe turned to see people racing away from a body lying on the sidewalk. She picked up her pace, moving as fast as she could with one prosthetic leg. Chloe had one that was made for running, but it wasn’t something she wore to work.
The mob gained on her, and she knew she wouldn’t be able to outrun it.
People pushed her to the side in a mad scramble, and though Chloe managed to keep her balance at first, she wasn’t able to withstand the crushing force. She fell face first onto the concrete and covered her head with her arms. She felt people stepping on her leg, and another boot landed on her hip. A hand reached down and grabbed her by the arm, pulling her to her feet.
A man picked her up and carried her to the sidewalk and out of the way of the stampede. Before Chloe could thank him, he’d already disappeared back into the crowd.
Chloe looked around and spotted the first building without a crowd of people out front or looters running from the back. It was a rectangular-shaped building with a side parking lot surrounded by a fence. Chloe hobbled to the building, stopping to stare up at the sign that read: Love n’ Play Day Care. She knocked on the door. More gunshots came from the street, followed by more screams.
“Let me in! Please!”
Chloe knocked harder.
She watched through the tiny window as a black teenager approached the door from the other side. He stared at Chloe through the window.
“Please, help me.”
He looked past her, scanning for others in the mob who might be running for the building. When none came, he opened the door.
“Come on in. Hurry.”
Chloe stepped past him, the guy putting his hand on her back and gently pushing her inside.
He closed the door, locked it and scanned the street again.
“Are you all right?”
Chloe nodded. “I’m fine now.”
He guided her to a chair and sat down next to her. The boy looked at her prosthetic, and his eyes grew.
“I lost my leg,” she said before smiling through fresh tears. “Not now. I mean I lost my leg years ago.”
The teenager frowned and then giggled, putting a hand over his mouth to stifle it.
“It’s okay. It would be awkward under normal circumstances. With all of this going on...”
“You’ll be safe here.”
Chloe smiled and wiped a tear from her face. “Thanks. I don’t know what’s going on or when the police are going to get this under control, but I appreciate you letting me in. It’s a bit crazy out there.”
“Yeah, like batshit.”
Chloe chuckled, and the boy turned his grin to the floor. She stuck out her hand.
“I’m Chloe.”
“Isaac. Nice to meet you, ma’am.”
“Nice to meet you, as well.”
35
Dax was pulled out of his thoughts when he heard footsteps coming down the hallway and into the room.
“I haven’t heard any of those awful screams this morning. Have you?” Neil asked.
Dax shook his head. “Haven’t been any. Ain’t seen many people on the streets once the sun came up.”
Neil stood by the kitchen sink and faced Dax. “Strange.”
Dax hadn’t shaved in days, and his eyes looked puffy and red.
“You look tired. Did you get any sleep?”
Dax looked away, staring out the window and into the flooded streets.
When he didn’t respond, Neil continued. “We can’t be at our best if we don’t rest, Dax.”
“I don’t need sleep. It was nearly impossible to sleep behind bars. Got really good at running without rest.”
“This isn’t prison.”
“No.” Dax turned to look at Neil. “It’s much worse.”
Isaac walked into the room. He yawned and rubbed his eyes.
“Morning,” Dax said.
The teen groaned.
“I’m glad you’re both here,” Dax said. “We need to talk.” Dax took a seat on the windowsill while Neil and Isaac sat in chairs across the room.
“I’ve been doing a lot of thinking.” Dax looked to Isaac and shook his head. “You were right. We can’t stay here.”
Is
aac shrugged. “I’m not so sure that’s the best idea anymore. We’ve got a good thing here. Maybe we can ride this out. Why you got a change of heart all of a sudden?”
This kid is hell-bent on fighting me on everything.
“Because the flooding is only going to get worse. We have three kids with us and a woman with one leg. We’re running low on food and fresh water.”
Isaac crossed his arms. “And what makes you think leaving here is going to help any of that? We’re in a four-story building, as safe from the flood as we can be.”
“Dax is right,” Neil said. “Things aren’t going to get any better around here. I’ve been waiting for the government or the military to show up and rescue people, but that doesn’t seem to be happening. We have to face the fact that we’re probably on our own.”
“So where can we go? Every part of the city we’ve seen has looked like this.”
“It has to be out of the city,” Neil said. “The water in the streets is only going to get more toxic and more dangerous. Soon, we won’t even be able to move around in it. If we can’t go down there, we won’t be finding any food.”
Isaac laughed. “All right. So we’ll all jump into a car, hop on I-10 and head right on out of town.”
“Not a car,” Dax said. “A boat.”
“And where do you think we’re gonna find a boat?” Isaac asked. “Look around you, dawg. We’re in the hood. Ain’t no one around here got a damn boat.”
“I know where we can get a boat,” Neil said.
Dax looked at Isaac and then at Neil.
Neil removed his glasses, wiping down the lenses with the tail of his shirt. “My brother-in-law has one. Pretty sure they would’ve gotten out of town when all this happened. The motor seized up last season, but the thing floats.”
“I worked on combustion engines while I was in prison,” Dax said. “I can get it running. Where’s his place at?”
“South. In the Garden District.”
“You think we can make it there?”
Neil nodded.
“Hold up,” Isaac said. “Last night we were hiding from those damn things outside. Now you wanna go running around out there with them?”
Dax explained to Isaac how he’d stayed up all night and hadn’t heard the Screamers since before dawn. He shared his theory that most of the Screamers might be hiding during the day and looting at night, although he had seen some of the creatures on the streets, in the daylight. Dax couldn’t quite put it all together yet.
“What? Maybe you should get some sleep, Dax. They be people. Like us.”
“You saw their eyes. You know something is going on here that ain’t right.”
Isaac laughed.
“You got a problem?” Dax asked.
Isaac stood up. “You know what? I do.” He looked back and forth between the two men. “How am I supposed to trust either of you?” He stared at Dax. “You’re nothing but a thug, man. I don’t care what your past with Chloe is. You’re not the same guy. I mean, shit, the only reason you’re out of prison is that the world is falling apart. You’re no better than those gangsters who kidnapped us.”
Dax scowled at the teen, breathing heavily but not responding.
“And you,” Isaac continued, looking to Neil. “You think I didn’t hear all that shit you admitted to me last night?”
“What stuff?”
The question came from Chloe, who stood in the doorway. The men hadn’t noticed her until she spoke.
Isaac pointed at Neil. “He signed some bullshit order to flood my neighborhood if the main pumps ran out of gas. Because of Neil, the people working the pumps diverted the power so the damn rich white people would be all right, but the poor folk drowned.”
Chloe looked to Neil, frowning. “What’s he talking about?”
“Tell her,” Isaac said. “Tell her what you did.”
Neil’s face turned red as he stumbled for a response. “I-I didn’t think it all the way through,” he said, stuttering. “I was just doing my job. We had to have a plan to get the power from somewhere, or the French Quarter would flood, and our tourism dollars would never return. When the pumps run out of gas, the outlying neighborhoods will flood first.”
“Yeah, and what about the people in my neighborhood?” Isaac moved closer to Neil, tilting his head to stare the man in the face. “Answer me!”
After Isaac had yelled, Dax grabbed the teen by the shirt and yanked him away from Neil.
“You need to calm down.”
Isaac shrugged, pushing Dax’s hand off of him. “Screw you, man. We should’ve never came and got your ass. We should’ve let you burn with that damn building. We don’t need you. Right, Chloe?”
Chloe looked from Dax to Isaac. “Both of you, stop. We’re never going to make it out of this unless we can work together.”
Isaac glanced back to Dax and shook his head. “Yeah, whatever.”
He left the room, ignoring Chloe’s pleas to come back. In the midst of the commotion, the door to Darius and Kevin’s room swung open, Monica having been in there with the boys. All three of the kids entered the room with the adults.
“What’s going on?” Monica asked.
“Nothing, sweetie,” Chloe said. “Everything’s fine.”
“But we heard yelling,” Darius said. “And bad words.”
“We’re okay.” Chloe put her hand on Monica’s shoulder and led the children away.
Dax waited for Chloe to leave before he sat down again and took a deep breath. Neil approached him, but Dax didn’t turn to look at him.
“Give them some time. Everything will be fine.”
Dax looked out the window, shaking his head. “I hope so. Because if we stay here, we’re totally fucked. There ain’t much food or water left to scavenge in this building. Screamers are running around, the floodwaters are rising, and I ain’t seen a cop or EMS in weeks.”
36
Isaac walked down the sidewalk as he had every evening, on his way to work the fryer at Church’s Chicken between Felicity Street and Martin Luther King Jr. Boulevard. But he wouldn’t be punching in tonight.
The old men at the Harmony Oaks housing development complex had been preaching.
“Whitey done left us to die again,” they had said as soon as The Blackout had extended into its second day.
Isaac had few white friends, but he understood what the old-timers were talking about. He had never attended Booker T. Washington High School because Katrina had destroyed it. And then the government had revealed a few years ago that the school sat upon the old “Silver City” waste dump that had leached toxic metals into the soil.
The city had set up a new high school, and Isaac attended, going through the motions, understanding that even a diploma from his high school would mean little in the real world. All of those worries about jobs and a future seemed insignificant compared to what happened after The Blackout.
School. Girls. Comics. None of that seemed to matter much now, and Isaac could only hope he’d be proved wrong. He secretly prayed to the old white men in Washington, asking them to send food and water soon. It wouldn’t take long for the situation to worsen.
He passed Church’s where fire raged from the front doors, curling up and over the neon sign. People ran back and forth on the streets, and Isaac kept looking, hoping to spot his mother. He hadn’t heard from her since the morning of The Blackout.
B home @ 7
Isaac checked his text messages every hour, still able to read the one his mother had sent, but his phone hadn’t had a signal for days.
He turned north on South Clairborne Avenue, moving past the Superdome and then left onto the 2500 block of Poydras Street, where his friend Geezy lived. The super-geek knew how to jailbreak phones and hack corporate websites. If anyone would have news about The Blackout, it was Geezy.
But Isaac knew as he approached his friend’s apartment building that he wouldn’t find him there. The ground floor windows of the entire block had been shatter
ed. People ran out of businesses and apartments alike, their arms full of televisions and game consoles.
“Yo. What you got on you, motherfucker?”
Isaac turned to see a burly black man sporting a thick gold chain. He wore a baseball cap low on his forehead and held a long pipe in one hand.
“You know a kid named Geezy?”
The man chuckled and shook his head. “Huh? Who the fuck be named Geezy? I asked you a question. What you got on you?”
Isaac flipped out the front pockets of his jeans and held his arms out, palms up.
“Fucking waste.”
The big guy turned and walked away, but a group of three teenagers approached Isaac. They appeared to be about the same age, but they each had tattoos and piercings in places that made Isaac shiver.
“We know Geezy.”
“Yeah,” said another kid. “What you want with him?”
Isaac took a step back. “I wanna see if he can get my phone working. So I can call my mom.”
“Fuck yo mama. And fuck you. Give us that phone.”
Isaac took another step back as the three teenagers came toward him. A woman screamed, and gunshots rang out in the near distance. Isaac licked his lips and started to extend his right hand which clutched his phone before ducking low and scampering between two of the assailants.
They yelled and gave chase.
Isaac hopped a fence and dodged a truck driving the wrong way down the street, men with shotguns standing in the bed of it. He looked over his shoulder and saw one of the kids aiming at him. Before Isaac could decide which way to run, a bullet whizzed past his ear.
He saw a chain-link fence at the end of an alley. Isaac ran, leaped at the fence and grabbed on with both hands. He crawled toward the top where a single line of barbed-wire forced him to slow down and carefully move one leg over at a time. The three teenagers in pursuit turned the corner, and as Isaac dropped from the top of the fence to the other side, another bullet blew past and lodged into the brick wall.
Isaac ran and turned from the alley back onto Poydras Street, looking over his shoulder and expecting more gunshots. He hesitated then and took a deep breath.
But the three assailants appeared and ran for him. Isaac turned and jumped over an overturned newspaper vending machine. Glass shattered, and people screamed. He saw the top of the Superdome in the distance and wondered if he should be running toward it or away from it. That arena wasn’t exactly the refuge it was supposed to have been during Katrina, and Isaac had little faith things would be different now.
