Susan hid in the basement of the wrecked building for over a week. She was terrified but alive and unhurt. What she had seen and heard drove her deeper and deeper into the safety of the corner. Finally, it was very quiet. She had to find water for her dehydrated and emaciated body. Ever so cautiously, one step at a time, and pausing after every step to listen, she climbed the stairs. Will it be dark? Will it be light? It’s hard to tell. The glass was all gone from the building and she looked out into the darkness and gloom under the overhead dust cloud.

Tim made his way down the sidewalk, so scared he twitches at the least sound. He was armed with guns he took from a dead policeman. He hasn’t slept in days. Hugging the wall, he made his way along the side of the building, and paused before he looked around the corner.

Susan carefully and hesitatingly peered around the frame of the blown-out window, eased her head out the window to take a look, right into Tim’s face as he looked around the corner. Tim shrieked, unloaded the first pistol and reached for the second. Every shot missed.

He paused – could it be? He recognized Susan, who worked in his office, and she recognized him. They collapsed into hysterical laughter and relief and then pulled back and looked at each other, not knowing whether to stay or flee.

“What happened?” she squeaked.

“Uh, uk,” he croaked, cleared his parched throat, swallowed a couple of times, “War, maybe a terrorist, but it seems to be too much for just terrorists.”

“Have you been very far?” she asked.

“No, just around the building. I’ve been too scared to go anywhere else.”

“What do you think we ought to do?” She wanted to know if he had been able to come up with anything. She hadn’t.

“I don’t know, what do you think?” He hoped she had some ideas, he knew he didn’t.

“Have you seen anybody else?”

“Yes, I saw some men killing some people on the street.”

“I saw them, too, and was too scared to go outside.”

NEXT