LOGAN
I’m leaving the elevator when there’s a sudden, jarring darkness. The emergency lights and the streetlights flicker and die, and then the world around me plunges into an unexpected black void. I fumble for my phone to use its flashlight, the ambient glow from my screen illuminating just enough of the floor to keep me from tripping.
As I reach the doors, I realize the darkness extends beyond the street. I look over at Serena’s candy store, noticing the absence of the usual warm glow through the windows. The light’s gone.
Is she in there?
Should I go check on her?
What if she’s alone and someone tries to break in?
The bell above the shop door jingles softly as I enter, though it’s a sound almost swallowed by the silence. The shop’s still, save for the faint rustling of what I assume is Serena moving around. I call out into the darkness.
“Serena? You here?”
A moment later, her voice responds from somewhere deep in the store. She sounds slightly panicked but attempts to be calm. “Logan? Is that you? The power’s out!”
“Yeah, it’s me,” I reply, following her voice. “I noticed. Do you need any help?”
“I could use some,” she says. “The flashlight in the back room is out of reach. I’m trying to figure out what’s going on.”
“It’s not just here. The whole block is out.”
“Well, shit. I can’t lock the shop up without the power.”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s an electric lock system, but I also can’t set the alarm systems without it. When I first moved here, I had issues with break-ins, so I had to think outside the box with things.”
“You had break-ins here? In the business district?” I ask in shock.
That’s odd. Most criminals wouldn’t bother to come to this area because they know there’s no money in all of the professional spaces.
“Yeah. They never caught whoever it was, but I think my ex had something to do with it.”
I cock an eyebrow and then realize she can’t see me. I manage to make my way through the aisles, carefully avoiding bumping into anything. Everything is now a maze of shadows and uncertainty. Serena’s outline becomes visible as I reach the back room.
“Why do you think that?”
“I have a type,” she sighs and laughs simultaneously.
What does that mean?
I’m finally at the back of the store, standing in front of her. I can’t see her face, but I can see that she’s uneasy.
“Here,” I say, handing her my phone. “You can use this until we figure out what’s going on.”
“Thanks,” she says, taking the phone with a relieved smile. Her face is soft, illuminated by the dim light. “I was hoping it was just a blown fuse or something. I guess we’re stuck in the dark for now. Or rather, I am.”
“Someone probably hit a power pole or something,” I shrug. “Where’s your phone? Why weren’t you using the flashlight on it?”
“It’s dead somewhere,” she says with a self-deprecating chuckle.
“How do you let your phone go dead or lose it?”
“I forgot to charge it last night, and I’m not on it much.”
“You were going to walk home from here, at night, without a phone? That’s unsafe.”