The night the city collapsed, Jon was in the little restaurant on the corner of High Street that the Resettlement Committee had set up. They felt that those “homey” touches improved morale by establishing a slight sense of former normalcy in a world that nobody even recognized anymore. Despite the small comforts that New Chicago offered, the vacant skyscrapers looming over the city like dead giants were a constant reminder of all that had been lost since the outbreak. Jon stirred his coffee slowly and let out a heavy sigh as he lifted it from the checkered tablecloth. His cup froze, mid-sip when the sirens began their low hum that quickly escalated to a loud, droning monotone. The people around him turned to stone as well, their only movement widening eyes shifting towards the ceiling. Jon thought it slightly comical; as if they expected the sky to crash down upon them or hear a voice booming down some kind of explanation. This quiet moment of awe mingled with horror didn’t last long.

            A blonde haired woman near the front counter lifted her hand to her thin pink lips, where it failed to stifle a groan of despair. Tears welled and burst the dam of her dark eyes as she glanced from one face to another in silence. Another woman picked up her small boy, hugging him so close Jon could see blue veins popping out of her thin hands as she buried her face in his shoulder and whispered hurriedly in his ear. Her red hair formed a curtain of silken fire that hid the child’s expression. The boy was one of maybe ten surviving children in the city and his mother was well known for her ferocity where his safety was concerned. A tall, lean man who looked forty but may have been twenty was the first to break stasis by bolting to the door, knocking down the chair in which he had been seated on the way out.

            As more people began to flee, Jon remained at his booth in the corner. He had prepared for this. His mug shook as he lowered it slowly to the table and clasped it in both hands while his heartbeat filled his body. Every muscle became taught as he tried to focus on the settling swirls in his cup. It wasn’t much use not to watch; hearing the collective panic of the others as they fled to the safety of their assigned abodes was just as unnerving. Jon knew that once the sirens were sounded, the chances of the city’s defense team controlling the situation were slim. He repeated the preordained instructions in his head as he willed his limbs to remain still for a bit longer, “Wait until a path is clear, assess the situation from a safe vantage point if possible, slowly and cautiously leave the city only if necessary.”