Apartment 905, Sahin, Ned [black female authors .TXT] 📗

I always like the developers who give self-explanatory names to their software. They deserve a bonus for making the post-apocalyptic world a better place.

The program has a bunch of squares with red-colored unit numbers in them. I click 219, and it turns to green. Sweet!

I look at 218. Is it time for an integrity check? I shouldn’t open someone else’s unit, but what if there is something that may help me survive longer in the hard times coming? Even if it turns out empty, it’s better for me to open it instead of Saviors breaking in it.

I turn the 218 to green too.

A voice inside me asks: Why not others too?

I hope this town forgives me.

I unlock all units. I glance through the hallway and see the green light on the key panels of the units closer to the counter. I put my laptop back into the bag. It’s time for a little treasure hunting, but a ruckus outside forces me to stand still.

“Let’s check this one out!” one of the guys outside yells, pointing to the post office next to the storage building. He walks toward the entrance while the other guy parks the car in front of it. They have Savior jackets. I jolt at the sound of a window shattering. I hope the post office has enough packages to keep them busy for a while.

I get around the desk and walk toward the first unit, rolling up each unit’s door one by one and checking what is inside. Mostly a mess of old clothes, electronics, furniture, and moving boxes. One of them has a mountain motorcycle with the key in the glove box. As much as I am exhausted from walking, I know that it’s a bad idea to ride a motorcycle. The noise of the engine would make me an easy target.

I continue to open and examine the rest of the units. After checking each unit, I press on the lock buttons. I don’t want to make life easier for the Saviors.

Some of the storages have packages of canned and dried food. While it’s tempting to grab those, it’s better if I just stick with my own food stock for now. Nothing else looks worthy of taking, except for an old military backpack. I snatch it, knowing my laptop would fit in it since the gas station’s plastic bag could barely fit all my belongings.

There’s another unit I want to check before opening mine.

I am standing in front of Unit 218 now.

As soon as I roll up the door, my eyes widen in disbelief. Jackpot!

The unit is full of advanced face masks, hand sanitizers, and protective clothing boxes. This is what I call a treasure in this upside-down world. There is one problem though. I don’t have enough time to carry all this stuff outside if I also have to carry my food stock.

Without much of a choice, I decide to carry food, but I can’t let Saviors have this treasure. It would only make them more powerful. The mess in the other units come in handy now. I use a mattress and old clothes to hide the valuables in 218 as much as possible. I only take a few masks, hand sanitizers, and protective clothes before rolling the door down.

I hear shots fired at the front door. They are breaking in. The post office probably didn’t have much to offer.

I open my unit and enter, then put two boxes packed with food and water on the hand cart I kept here for emergencies like this.

“Let’s check out the units upstairs,” says one of the Saviors. I hear them walking up the stairs on the other side of the building. They must be looking for units that are already open.

I close my unit door as quietly as I can and shut off the interior light. I can’t lock the door from inside. I hope they don’t notice the green light on the key panel.

My heart pumps faster as his footsteps get louder. They stop in front of my unit.

One of them punches my unit’s door.

“Nah, these are all closed too, Ethan,” he says.

I am glad that they are too dumb to check the light on the key panel.

Their footsteps fade away. Then I hear them shooting and kicking the unit doors downstairs. This is the chance I have been waiting for.

I open the door and drag the cart to the hallway. I lock my unit after rolling down the door. There is no need to leave any clue about my existence here.

I pause for a second to figure out what they are doing. The modern-day barbarians continue to break in the units.

I quietly drag the cart down the stairs at the opposite side of the building. The stairway exit is not visible from the first-floor hallway thanks to the structure’s T shape. I walk faster toward the emergency exit at the back of the building but stop once I see the red sign: ALARM WILL SOUND IF DOOR IS OPENED.

Was it necessary to put an alarm here?

I sometimes had to use emergency exits at the companies I worked for in the past. The alarms these warnings referred to never went off. It shouldn’t be any different today.

If it does go off, I will say goodbye to my stuff and run to the woods.

I push the door. The fresh and warm wind hits my face. I feel like Michael Scofield who just got out of the escape tunnel in Prison Break. The difference is that I have my supplies with me instead of fellow inmates.

I carefully, but at a fast pace, drag the cart to the tree line as the sun goes down, covering my tracks.

I am alive another day.

Chapter 6

It’s a beautiful morning view of Old Fort. Stretching across a green valley, this small town looks like a peaceful place to spend years after retirement. I wonder how it felt like living here when everything was normal.

I carried the cart about a