I waited for night to fall before I started packing to go. I have some nosey neighbors and I didn't want to have to be bothered with any unnecessary delays. CNN started to have some strange reports from the west coast. I tried to call Ted back, but only got a busy signal. I trashed my phone in case the government had any goons on the way. I carried my .45 as I started loading my car. It's a quiet, cool night with a bright starry sky. I took a deep breath of the air as I looked around. Other than an ambulance speeding by, lights flashing but no siren, and some leaves blowing in the street, there was no one about. Inside on TV some reporter was screaming about people with "Strange wounds" and how Teresa had been abandoned, leaving dead in piles everywhere. I went around my apartment unplugging everything just in case I was able to come back. But somehow I knew that I would likely never see New York City again. Locking my apartment, I heard some sounds from outside. Going to the front door I peered out. Three teens on skateboards were looking at my car. I put a hand on my pistol hoping I wouldn't have to shoot them. After a few minutes they skated off, faces covered in skull bandannas. Breathing easy, I waited, wondering if I should call Gladys, my ex-girlfriend. We'd broken up a few months past. The idea passed quickly. I didn't want any dead weight and she was a panic artist. Fuck her. She's want to bring her crippled mom along and that was more dead weight. My own parents were safe in the grave and I had no siblings, so it was time to go while the going was good.
I'll write more when I can.