DAY 12

DAY 12:


I went down to the basement today looking for the breaker boxes.  I’m starting to get a little more comfortable operating in the dark with just a flashlight to see by.  Though I must admit that having a gun tucked into the waistband of my jeans provides a sense of security and comfort that is probably akin to what a toddler feels holding his favorite blanket.  Once I found the breakers, it wasn’t too difficult to figure out what to do.  As I said before, the super was good at his job.  He had everything clearly labeled, and it was a simple matter of flipping off the master switch for each floor but my own.  I also shut down all of the unnecessary systems that I wouldn’t need (hallway lights, exterior lighting, security cameras, etc.).

When I tried to engage the breaker switch for the solar panels, it wouldn’t remain open until I shut down the power to my floor as well.  Each individual apartment was clearly labeled, so I went apartment by apartment on my floor, shutting all of the switches off but my own.  I was finally rewarded when I went back to flip the switch for the solar panels, and it stayed on.  It took me a minute to find it, but I turned on the breaker for the elevators too.

I’ve never enjoyed an elevator ride so much.  And back inside my apartment, everything was working.  I cleaned out my refrigerator and freezer, and then I had my first hot meal in almost a week.  As the sun began to set, I realized that having the only windows lit up in the entire city would put an enormous target on my back, so I shut off all of my lights, and made a mental note to either find some blackout curtains in one of the other apartments, or find some black paint to cover them with.  But at least I am now able to charge up my computer.

I have been consciously putting off the task of going across the hall.  I have to believe that there are others in this building that are like the lunatics that attacked me outside, others that I don’t personally know.  I have to find one of them first.  Maybe I’m wrong about Mrs. Olmstead.  Hell, if she couldn’t figure out how to get out of her bedroom, she’s probably already dead.  I’m pretty sure a person can only go three or four days without water; probably not a very good way to go.  Damn it, there’s no way she’s still alive over there.  I was scared off my ass when I shot that woman and probably didn’t hit her where I thought I did.  God, I suck.  I’ll go over there tomorrow.




Posted on October 7, 2013, in Fiction and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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