Tucson, Arizona - August 8th, 2023 0722 hours
Mike
Mike had just made it in for the day and had barely sat down to his computers when he heard the commotion of excited voices around him. He’d rolled his eyes thinking that one of his tenants was involved in another overly dramatic domestic dispute. He ignored them for a few minutes before the first explosions echoed in from outside. Then he started paying more attention to the news report on the TV he’d silenced when he started up his computer. Before he could click the mute button to undo what he’d done at the start of his day, the TV fritzed out for a second before it shut off with the slight smell of ozone caused by burnt electronics wafted into his nose.
Now, roughly 10 minutes after the lights went out, he sat sweating in his seat, his mind slowly disconnecting from reality, too shocked to fully process what was really happening. He kept pressing the power button on his phone to no avail. When he realized it wasn’t coming back on he pressed the button on the computer tower at his desk.
Nothing.
He pressed it again.
Still nothing.
Now he was beginning to panic. He knew if he didn’t calm down his obesity induced blood pressure issues would kill him, but he just couldn’t gain control. He had no idea what to do and his family was alone, halfway across the town. He sat his four hundred pound mass into the nearest seat he could find, then pressed his hands into the desk and forcefully brought his breathing under control. Just as he felt his world stop spinning the sound of the office door opening suddenly nearly caused the heart attack he’d just averted.
“CHRIST! Uh… John? Wassup!?” He had no clue what to say.
“End of the world, that’s what. We need the keys to our apartments, the electronic locks are fried.”
Mike stared at the man he only occasionally interacted with and had to do a momentary double take. He hadn’t seen him in nearly six months. Something happened in the man’s life and he retreated into his own world. He’d heard from Antonio that he lost a bunch of weight and had gotten in relatively good shape. He wasn’t too proud to say that he was envious of the man standing in front of him now. And a little bit afraid.
The man standing in front of him now seemed to be armed to the teeth and moved with more purpose than he’d seen any man before him, even his own aggressively industrious father. He wore a pair of desert colored tactical pants and a plain black t-shirt under a nylon webbing duty belt with a pistol on the right, extra magazines on the left alongside a shiny handled Buck knife. A large green backpack was worn, dangling both the flexible straw of a hydration pack and a black hatchet. A tan flex-fit cap with “MAGPUL” embroidered in brown stitching covered his head.
“Uh… yeah… ok. They’re in the lockbox. I’ll show you.”
He struggled shakily to his feet. John was there to steady him a moment later, recognizing just how shaken he was.
“Take a breath, dude. The shit has hit the fan, get it together and form a plan. It doesn't matter what you do, but you need a task. Actually, you can help us all out.”
Mike looked at John from behind wide eyes, “I can? How?”
They walked to the back room as John filled him in on his plan, “I’m taking Antonio and we’re going to hit the CVS in a few minutes. Hopefully before anyone else gets the same idea. Everyone knows you, you’re the first point of contact for everyone that lives here. Go out and find out who needs what medicine. Get some people together and knock on every door. If no one answers, open it up and make sure they are still alive. I know we’ve got some elderly here. Now let’s get the keys.”
The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.
By the time John had finished laying out his plan, Mike found himself fully on board with it. He was terrified, and feeling useless. John somehow instilled a purpose, something he absolutely needed right now. Though the plan found its first road bump in regards to the keybox.
“Fuck, it’s electronic.”
“Don’t you have a master key, you know… for the keys?”
“Yeah, but they’re held at the main office. And the main office is in one of them big buildings downtown.”
John looked at Mike momentarily before drawing his pistol, “Cover your ears.”
Mike's eyes widened further as John placed the muzzle of his pistol against the shiny locking mechanism on the keybox door. He realized that John was looking at him expectantly and then quickly stepped back and covered his ears. As soon as he did so John pulled the trigger. The door of the keybox popped open with a jagged hole where the locking mechanism used to be. Several of the keys shook free from their hooks and clanked to the ground at their feet.
John stuck his finger up and quickly searched across the rows of keys until he found his own. Then he grabbed his neighbors and marched out of the office calling out behind him, “C’mon, Mike! Get a bag and gather those keys, hand them out to the residents. The ones that don’t get them, you need to check those ones. I’ll be back in five.”
Mike thought about what he just said then scurried out behind him with a renewed sense of urgency, “Shit.”
When he stepped outside he faltered for a minute when he noticed the rising mushroom cloud in the direction of South Tucson. “Shit.”
Then he looked around the complex and noticed that people were starting to gather in small groups. With a pen and paper in hand he turned to the nearest group and went about the task that John had passed on to him. He thought it would take longer than the time that the man had given him, but as soon as he started talking with the first group, other groups came to him. When he relayed what he was doing, younger and more fit members of the community began spreading the word. Soon he was sitting at a table and people had somehow organized a line where they came to him where they rattled off the things they needed, which included more than just medicines.
“So, that’s a big shopping list. We’re going to need more bags.” John said as he walked up behind him and looked over his shoulder.
Antonio leaned down and looked it over as well, “Yeah. Shit. That’s way more than what we can carry.”
Just as they were discussing the issue, half a dozen younger residents walked up with bags over their shoulders led by who Mike knew was the dominant half of a lesbian couple that lived in unit 221.
“Hey, I’m Danica.” She stuck her hand out to John.
“John.” He took her offered hand with a smile. “You offering to be the mules?”
She made a sour look, then shrugged, “Yeah, I guess we are. As long as you keep us out of trouble, I guess.” She looked over John a second time then added, “You think it’s gotten bad enough to be packing that much hardware?”
John looked towards the exit for a second, a woman’s distant scream punctuated his next comment, “Yeah, I do.”
To Mike’s credit he wasn’t freaking out anymore, though he was still sweating from every pore in his body. People continued checking in with him and collecting their keys. There were just over a dozen keys remaining when they finished.
“I guess we’ll have to check these apartments.” Mike said to nobody in particular. It had taken surprisingly little time to hand out keys and take down everyone’s medication needs. The sound of cars crashing had died down, but there was still the occasional explosion in the distance. The wind never ceased its assault on the gathered residents, though it seemed like it would slow down some soon. He tried not to look up at the looming mushroom cloud, or think of the implications. Right now it was all about surviving the next ten minutes. And then the next ten after that.
“Alright, me and Antonio are heading out with our volunteers, we’ll try to be back in the next ten to fifteen minutes. Maybe someone has a mechanical clock so you can keep track? Dunno. I noticed some other residents have weapons, see if they’ll watch the entrances to the complex. See if anyone has any mechanical knowledge and have them start checking for running vehicles, I’d start with the ones under the carports.”
Mike cursed himself for not thinking of these things himself. He watched as John, Antonio and several other residents headed to the front exit with bags slung on shoulders. He really hoped they came back, because if they didn’t, he had no clue what to do next.