When All is Lost

Chapter 2

I didn't sleep that night. I sat vigilantly on the floor by the door, waiting for voices or sounds, anything to indicate life on the other side. There was nothing.

Our dinner sat untouched on the kitchen table, but I couldn't even bring myself to look at it. I couldn't bring myself to do anything but wait. It felt hard to even breathe.

By sunrise, my head throbbed from strain. Even still, I couldn't leave the door. I wanted to know everything that was going on in our building and, luckily, the thin walls helped. As people woke up for their day, I was able to be tuned in to every little thing that happened outside of my door. That's also how I knew Ian also never came back.

I would have heard it.

From what I knew, Chris and Ian were the only day shift guards on our floor. Chris had mentioned a night shift guard was on the other end of the hall, so I hadn't been too alarmed when I'd heard a more distant door open and shut as they left and came back. It had still been seriously tempting to poke my head out into the hallway and check, but I knew the consequences if I was wrong.

We all knew the stories. People who showed any signs of dissent would end up being yanked out of their apartments to live in a camp. They were forced into hard labor as scavengers for goods on the fringes of the city under twenty-four-hour surveillance. It was dangerous and there were even rumors that people had been dying between the long hours, the physical labor, and lack of food. It wasn't worth the risk of being caught by a building guard.

Yet.

I groaned, putting my head in my hands.

What am I going to do?

The thought repeated itself over and over again as morning shifted from midday and then to evening. Before I knew it, night had settled in again and I found myself frequently nodding off. I had to pinch myself to stay awake.

At one point I jolted awake, completely disoriented. My heart hammered in my chest as I took my reality in yet again. I reached out and picked up the watch from the table.

3:18

I felt sick. It was near pitch black in the apartment and every part of my body hurt. I rolled my shoulders back and stretched my neck. I knew I couldn't keep just waiting next to the door. I needed to think and sitting wasn't going to make Chris come home. I made a move to stand but flinched.

Well, this is going to be unpleasant.

I'd been dumb and sat cross-legged for so long that my legs had gone completely numb. I stretched one leg out and a strong sensation of pins and needles shot all the way from my toes to my butt. I tried to massage my leg, but that only made the feeling worse. When it got a bit better, I managed to wiggle my toes. It helped, so I repeated the same process with my other leg.

A door slammed somewhere in the building, making me jolt upright. I could barely hear it, which meant it probably wasn't on our floor, and even more likely, it was probably a building guard on patrol. It didn't matter, though. The sound gave me momentary hope.

Ignoring the overwhelming stinging that came from my legs as I moved them, I crawled closer to the door and put my ear against it.

Please.

I waited. Maybe they were back. Maybe Chris had just gotten held up. Maybe he'd gotten injured and Ian had helped him out. Maybe he'd had to help Ian out. Maybe if I wished it hard enough, maybe if my will was strong enough, he'd come back to me.

Please.

I sat on the floor for what could have been five minutes or thirty. Nothing came of it. Letting out a sigh, I stood up. My legs were shaky at first, but they got stronger with each step I took. I needed to think, to make a plan, to... I had no idea. My mind blanked as I looked around my small, empty apartment. I was at a complete loss.