There was a bright flash in the sky last night when I was in bed. I thought it was going to rain, so I hurried to the small laundry room to bring my clothes in. A strong wind stirred the air in my apartment, and I quickly shut the windows.
The next day, the city grid was down and many of the commuters were left scratching their heads in confusion as the generators did not start up as well. I left a message at my employer's voicemail, stating that I will be late.
As I cycled up to the main highway for the cyclists, I could see that many of the vehicles that ran on the city grid was stranded. I stopped to get myself a sandwich from the local cafe, before continuing on my journey. When I got there, I could see many of my colleagues outside the office building, locked out of their own office because of the power failure.
There were a few emergency vehicles outside as well, evacuating victims who were caught unaware of the power failure. There was reporters nearby, trying to capture and evaluate the seriousness of the event.
Our city ran on hydroelectric power from the nearby dam, and consequences were severe if the installation was down. My boss arrived later, red faced and out of breath, walking on his own two legs instead of the motorized scooter he always used. The office building was locked down, he explained. No one could get in, and so today's a free day.
I decided to go home to catch up on my reading.
As I was cooking my modest meal on a small gas stove, my phone rang. Picking it up, I saw that it was my niche group's number. It was a small message telling us to open the fun pack that was issued to me when I moved in.
The niche group I was involved in were bookworms. I found out when I was looking for a particularly hard to find autographed book of my favorite author. When I finally found it, it belonged to a fit middle aged man called Sigmund. Sigmund did not want to part with the book, but he did loan it to me. We became friends after I seen his impressive library of books on nature and geography. He introduced me to the others; Hazel, the appealing but aloof bank accountant and Giordano Bruno, a veterinarian. The others were not around at the given time, so he didn't want to spoil the others for me.
I went to the bedroom and retrieved the bag, tightly wrapped in bubble wrap. Carefully, I peeled the plastic away and until a medium sized backpack was revealed. There was a small lock on it. Peering at the lock, I turned the tumblers until the numbers aligned. There was a sound coming from the living room. I turned and looked back, but there was nothing there. Satisfied with the inspection, I opened the lock with a tiny click.
Undoing the lock, I placed it aside, unzipping the bag to reveal a small black case and 2 brown boxes. There was clothing in it as well as a tiny smartphone not unlike mine. I emptied the bag and there is was survival items inside as well. I always thought this pack was Sigmund's way of telling me that I was a city boy and could not have survived in the wilderness.
There was another rustling sound behind me again. I frowned-maybe the neighbor's dog--A tight wire looped over my neck and would have cut off my air circulation if my left arm wasn't in the way. The wire cut deeply in my arm, drawing blood. I reacted on instinct, trying to retaliate with my right hand but the assailant was too strong. He pulled me backwards, trying to strangle me through my left arm as well.
Blood pounded through my temples as I reached for anything, anything to use against him. He dragged me away from the furniture. There was a sinister ratcheting sound as I continued to flail around. I knocked over the television and it crashed to the floor. The neighbor's apartment light flashed on. My assailant pressed the barrel of a gun to my head.
Deciding that now was the time, I dropped to my knees, flinching away from the gun. A loud pop went off, indicating that the gun was silenced. In addition, my maneuver managed to buy me some free room to move in. Throwing the cord away from me, I turned to face my attacker for the first time. He wore a full face concealing ski mask and held a small pistol with a fat silencer threaded in the muzzle. He lifted the pistol and I threw myself backwards in the bedroom. I kicked the door shut and almost immediately, shots thudded into the wooden door. I shoved my bedside table against it and locked the door.
There must be some way out of this mess. I picked my smart phone up but the battery was dead. Grid's power out so the land line was useless too. The tiny smart phone had no reception. I opened the black case, and gleaming faintly in the solar powered lamp was a PP-2000. I knew of this gun in video games. I picked it up and beneath the gun was 2 loaded magazines. Why did Sigmund give me a gun?
The door frame trembled as the attacker threw his weight against it. The lock would not hold and the flimsy weight of the beside table would not deter the attacker's determined assault. I fed the magazine in and loaded the gun. The next kick would splinter the door and I would probably die-
The door burst open and my attacker stepped in, one hand raised to shield against the flying splinters of wood; the other held the pistol. The barrel of the silencer looked huge and ready to take away my life. I thumbed the safety off and fire, pulling the trigger back. The 20 round magazine finished in an instant, filling my bedroom with flares of light. When the hammer locked back, my attacker dropped limply to the floor, dropping the pistol.
It clattered away at the same time a loud knocking came from my front door. I opened the door, concealing the mess behind me. It was Mr Taylor, my apartment's landlord.
"Good grief, Daxxe. Some of us have to work tomorrow! What is that noise coming from your room? It sounded like gun fire!"
"Oh heavens no, Mr Taylor. It was from my movie. I fell and unplugged my headphones and hurt my arm."
I showed him my bleeding arm.
Mr Taylor's angry features softened and he lowered his voice.
"Do you need an ambulance, Daxxe? I could get help for you."
"Oh thank you, but no, Mr Taylor. It's a shallow cut and I have a first aid kit. It would be embarrassing having to good to a med center because I was fixing a late night movie snack. Thank you for your help, but I would resolve this incident myself. Sorry for causing a disturbance for the others."
"Do try to be more careful next time, Daxxe."
"Yes I will be, thank you again for your help, Mr Taylor and good night."
I shut my door carefully and locked it this time. The attacker could have jimmied the lock when the security lock had failed due to the power outage. I dressed the wound quickly, cleaning it with the first aid spray and adding a cold compress on it. I looked at the dead body and pulled off the ski mask. It was a middle eastern looking dark skinned man. I inspected the contents of his wallet. There was nothing except for a few dollars in it.
I made a decision quickly. This man's presence has accelerated the need for me to meet up with the rest of the group. I would catch the train tomorrow to the orbital platform provided that power was restored by morning. Pushing the dead body into the shower tube, I shut the door and flushed out the body. Hopefully this would delay the search.
