It’s just after daybreak when I catch sight of movement. I stiffen in surprise as I watch from the second floor window. Across the street, someone stumbles out of the space between two houses. We picked this house yesterday evening because we thought it – and this neighborhood – were abandoned. But clearly we were wrong.

At first I figure he must be wounded with his uneven gait, but then I notice the bottle in his hand. He makes his way to the street, tripping off the curb and into the middle of the street. After a long swig on the bottle, he swings a gun off his shoulder— a shotgun, I realize, as he slowly loads shells into it. It’s not until he raises it to his shoulder that I realize he intends to start shooting. I quickly scan the street, squinting at the sun rising at the eastern end, but there’s nothing. With all the noise he’s about to make…

This is not going to end well, I think. Anna and Matt are startled awake by the first shot before I have a chance to warn them. I motion to them to pack up as I keep an eye on the idiot in the street. I’m about to start packing up my own stuff when I see a second person come from the same direction the man did. This person is thinner, shorter, and more sure-footed — just a girl, a teenager probably. When she gets close to the man, he turns around and tosses the bottle to her. She steps aside and it drops to the ground.

The man ignores this and turns to line up another shot. The girl fiddles with something at her chest and then moves further into the street. She reaches for his arm. I hope for a moment that she'll be able to get him inside and out of the way, but instead he jerks his arm and knocks her to the ground. Matt and Anna come up behind me just as he kicks the girl’s shoulder and pins her to the ground with his foot on her stomach. Anna inhales sharply.

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“What do we do?” she asks. My first thought is to leave— and as quickly as possible. With the man distracted we can slip out of this house unnoticed and get the hell out of here, preferably before all this noise draws anything too close. I make the mistake of looking at Anna, though, about to tell her this. I can see that concerned look of hers, and as I open my mouth, she shoots me an accusing look.

The tight mouth and narrowed eyes speak volumes, and my jaw snaps shut as I look away. I consider pushing for leaving despite her obvious objection, but then I wonder briefly who the real monsters are anymore. If Anna was down there, wouldn’t I help her? Wouldn’t I want someone else to?

I snatch up the rifle leaning against the wall in front of me with a sigh, angry with myself and a bit angry with Anna too. “I’ll go,” I declare. Matt opens his mouth, and I know what he’ll offer — to back me up, just as he always does. But I cut him off. “Finish up here, we need to leave quick.” With any luck, I can help the girl and we can still be gone before it’s too late.

Before Matt has a chance to say anything, I’m out the door and jogging down the stairs. There’s not much point in keeping quiet now.

As I reach the back door, I wonder how many other houses we’ve borrowed have had neighbors we never knew were there. Everyone is out for themselves these days. Keeping quiet and out of sight are the only ways to survive. How many times have I warned Matt and Anna not to trust anyone, to look out for each other, to keep to ourselves? And one accusing look from Anna is all it takes to send me off to stick my nose into someone else’s business— the exact thing we’ve been avoiding at all costs these last several weeks.

I shake those thoughts off for now and slip through the door. I’ll have plenty of time to regret this later. I hope.