battery lose. Outside the sound of a car horn blaring continues. Tayna can hear her father stomping around downstairs. Popping off the back of her phone, Tayna makes her way over to her curtained window at the same time. With one hand she slides out the battery of her phone, while with the other, she pulls back one of her window curtains. The battery slips through her fingers when she peers outside.
It is as if someone has hit the pause button on the world. The normally busy streets around The University of Pennsylvania’s campus are now still. The only sound is that of the car horn. The sound never ceases, it is one consistent blare. There are people outside Tayna notices, but they are lying on the sidewalk. Tayna can see ten, maybe twenty people, all either on their backs, their sides, or with their faces buried in the sidewalk. They aren’t moving. Tayna fears they are dead.
She can see that cars and the people within them aren’t moving either. One of the vehicles in the street crashed into the car in front of it, which had forced that car up onto the sidewalk where it had struck a lamppost. There is steam coming from the vehicle’s engine. Oddly there is no exhaust from the tailpipe.
“Tayna!” It is her dad bolting up the stairs. Tayna can’t pull herself away from the window.
“Tayna!” He yells again, by this time he is on the other side of her bedroom door. He bangs on it with his fists. When she doesn’t answer he opens the door and barges in out of breath. In his hands he holds a trashbag that is bulging with misshaped objects.
“Tayna!” Again he says her name but she doesn’t move.
All those people had been suddenly petrified, Tanya thinks. The image is beyond her understanding. Her father’s arm wraps around her and he pulls her away from the window.
“Tayna,” He says, this time softer. He looks into his daughter’s eyes. “We have to go now.”
The two of them bolt down the stairs. Tayna is in a daze. He holds her father’s hand and is being dragged along. Her bare feet patter across the kitchen tile. Eventually the two of them are heading down another flight of stairs. Tayna is suddenly cold, only wearing pajama pants and an oversized t-shirt. Her father closes the door to the basement behind them and she hears the sound of tape being pulled off of its spool. There is also the sound of plastic crinkling.
“The windows!” Her father shouts. Tayna looks around her. The basement of their row home had two windows. One facing the street and one facing the backyard. Both were thin and at head height, so that someone could peek out just above ground-level. At Tanya’s feet was the trashbag her father had been carrying. Tayna sorted through it. There was a roll of trashbags and a few rolls of duct tape. As if by instinct, practiced skills from drills they had performed when she was child, Tayna takes one of the trashbags and tape rolls and runs over to the front-facing window. She holds the plastic bag up over her head with one hand, covering the window pane, and using her teeth to pulls the tape roll out and adheres the bag to the wall.
By the time she is done both windows are covered completely by the trashbags. There is no room for air from the inside to seep in. Her father is busy tapping into their water supply, the water they had shipped in from the mountains. He is re-routing the piping so that it will no longer flow into the rest of the house.
Tayna finds a blanket in a crate labeled, “Emergency Supplies” and drapes it around her shoulders. “What’s happening, Dad?” She asks as she sorted through the supplies her father had brought down in the trash bag. Most of it is food he has haphazardly grabbed from the cupboard and thrown into the bag in a hurry.
When her father looks at her Tayna can see the fear in his eyes. “I think,” He was struggling to find the right words to say. “I think we’re under attack.”
19 Jules
The first hour is
It is as if someone has hit the pause button on the world. The normally busy streets around The University of Pennsylvania’s campus are now still. The only sound is that of the car horn. The sound never ceases, it is one consistent blare. There are people outside Tayna notices, but they are lying on the sidewalk. Tayna can see ten, maybe twenty people, all either on their backs, their sides, or with their faces buried in the sidewalk. They aren’t moving. Tayna fears they are dead.
She can see that cars and the people within them aren’t moving either. One of the vehicles in the street crashed into the car in front of it, which had forced that car up onto the sidewalk where it had struck a lamppost. There is steam coming from the vehicle’s engine. Oddly there is no exhaust from the tailpipe.
“Tayna!” It is her dad bolting up the stairs. Tayna can’t pull herself away from the window.
“Tayna!” He yells again, by this time he is on the other side of her bedroom door. He bangs on it with his fists. When she doesn’t answer he opens the door and barges in out of breath. In his hands he holds a trashbag that is bulging with misshaped objects.
“Tayna!” Again he says her name but she doesn’t move.
All those people had been suddenly petrified, Tanya thinks. The image is beyond her understanding. Her father’s arm wraps around her and he pulls her away from the window.
“Tayna,” He says, this time softer. He looks into his daughter’s eyes. “We have to go now.”
The two of them bolt down the stairs. Tayna is in a daze. He holds her father’s hand and is being dragged along. Her bare feet patter across the kitchen tile. Eventually the two of them are heading down another flight of stairs. Tayna is suddenly cold, only wearing pajama pants and an oversized t-shirt. Her father closes the door to the basement behind them and she hears the sound of tape being pulled off of its spool. There is also the sound of plastic crinkling.
“The windows!” Her father shouts. Tayna looks around her. The basement of their row home had two windows. One facing the street and one facing the backyard. Both were thin and at head height, so that someone could peek out just above ground-level. At Tanya’s feet was the trashbag her father had been carrying. Tayna sorted through it. There was a roll of trashbags and a few rolls of duct tape. As if by instinct, practiced skills from drills they had performed when she was child, Tayna takes one of the trashbags and tape rolls and runs over to the front-facing window. She holds the plastic bag up over her head with one hand, covering the window pane, and using her teeth to pulls the tape roll out and adheres the bag to the wall.
By the time she is done both windows are covered completely by the trashbags. There is no room for air from the inside to seep in. Her father is busy tapping into their water supply, the water they had shipped in from the mountains. He is re-routing the piping so that it will no longer flow into the rest of the house.
Tayna finds a blanket in a crate labeled, “Emergency Supplies” and drapes it around her shoulders. “What’s happening, Dad?” She asks as she sorted through the supplies her father had brought down in the trash bag. Most of it is food he has haphazardly grabbed from the cupboard and thrown into the bag in a hurry.
When her father looks at her Tayna can see the fear in his eyes. “I think,” He was struggling to find the right words to say. “I think we’re under attack.”
19 Jules
The first hour is
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