Undone: A Dystopian Fiction Novel by Chad Evercroft Page B

gathered all the water bottles we had and organized them on the living room floor. We had twelve full bottles left, along with ten cans of pineapple juice.
    “With cooking and the little washing we do, we’ll run out quickly,” she elaborated.
    We all looked at each other, mirroring anxiety and frustration. We had hoped things would go back to normal sooner than this, but going back to a store for supplies had always been a possibility at the back of our minds. Since there were no riots or violent protests, the National Guard hadn’t come to Bloomington. Some officers from Indianapolis arrived to support the local force, but it wasn’t as if they could reassure business owners or people with travel options to stay or to not go on strike. Just the possibility of more looting scared people off. Everyone was nervous and avoided populated areas. Like grocery stores.
    “We shouldn’t all go,” Tyrsa said. “We need people to stay here and guard the apartment. There might be looters hanging around and waiting for people to leave home so they can break in.”
    “Good point,” I said.
    “Going to the store is more dangerous than staying,” Tyrsa continued. “We could draw straws to see who leaves. Pull names out of a hat or something. That way it’s fair.”
    We all nodded. Beth tore a page from her sketchpad and ripped it into five strips. We all wrote our names and put them in a plastic mixing bowl Tyrsa got from the kitchen. She closed her eyes and reached her hand in.
    “Three to go,” she said, “And two to stay. I’ll draw for who stays.”
    Tyrsa rustled the paper strips in her fingers for a few seconds before pulling a name out.
    “Beth,” she read.
    More rustling.
    “And Rick.”
    Rick looked disappointed that he had to stay, but he didn’t say anything. We agreed to leave in the morning and get it over with. Tyrsa still had the cash from Rick for the electric bill we no longer planned to pay. She wrote a list of what we could buy besides water and more paper plates.
    “Dry shampoo,” she said immediately. “I’ve used it before when I’ve been camping, and it works.”
    “Thank God,” Beth sighed.
    “And we should try to find some stuff to collect water for when it rains. We can’t just keep buying water, it’s not sustainable.”
    Tyrsa scribbled away at her list. My stomach groaned, hungry after all the effort exerted burying the trash. We had been cooking our dinners outside over a fire pit we built. It was just a circle we drew and surrounded by rocks, but the little plot of forest supplied enough wood, and the dry autumn leaves and twigs provided ample tinder.
    We boiled water and made luxurious meals like noodles, scrambled eggs in a bag, and rice-and-beans. Tonight was more ramen. After we ate, I went straight to bed, exhausted mentally and physically. I had started retiring earlier and earlier as the week had gone by. Even then, I never slept well, and would frequently wake from stress nightmares, clammy and out of breath. Hopefully this supply run would be the last one we’d have to take. I didn’t know how much longer I could take this on-the-verge-of-disaster lifestyle.

Chapter 6
                  “Oh my god, is that a gun?”
              I stood in the doorway of Tyrsa and Beth’s bedroom, staring at the small handgun on Tyrsa’s bed. She quickly snatched it up.
                  “Yeah, don’t scream, though, Jesus,” she said, exasperated.
                  “Why do you have a gun?”
                  “To hunt squirrels,” she replied sarcastically. “Why do you think I have a gun, Morgan? So I don’t get killed or raped.”
                  “Okay, okay. It just surprised me.”
                  Tyrsa lifted her shirt and inserted the gun into a holster she had around her hips. She pulled her T-shirt back down to conceal it.
    “My brother gave it to me. I haven’t thought about