“There’s no one here,” he had to repeat once more.

He knew there wouldn’t be very many people or vehicles to see when cruising this late at night, but once they had stopped for gas, he and Chris felt that there was something wrong with their night.

It was a typical Friday night—Chris had come over to stay for the night, and once Anthony’s parents had retired to their room for the night, they had snuck out to go cruising; to see the sights and sounds of the clubs, of the shows, of the people who were out partying their lives away after the sun fell, taking all the warmth and light of the world with it. After scaring Chris half to death by taking him for a quick drive through the narrow roads up in the mountains, they had come back down into the city to see the nightlife. Nothing particularly interesting had been going on that night, so their freedom to cruise had been short-lived, and soon Anthony had headed back for home. Chris seemed glad to be on their way back, as he had complained about the trip the whole night. He never wanted to leave the house, no less do anything worth of value. All he wanted to do was sit around and stare at his laptop for hours on end. Anthony took them around the city to try to show Chris the errors of his ways. It didn’t seem to help much, but that wasn’t Anthony’s main concern at the moment.

“There’s just not a lot of people out tonight,” Chris had suggested when they started noticing how peculiar the night had become on their way back. In truth it was nearing two-thirty in the morning, so their Friday night was long done and over, but the lack of cars and people had chilled Anthony in a way he had never felt before. That was before he had pulled into the gas station.

“There’s no one here,” Anthony pointed out again, and he parked at an open pump. He pointed at the car parked at the pump in front of them. “Look, they left their door open.”

“They’re probably inside,” Chris said, apparently not as bewildered as Anthony. They both got out all the same, glancing all around them. Not one car passed by as he and Chris watched the roads that ran perpendicular and parallel to the gas station that was so conveniently placed on the corner of two major roads, one of them including a light rail track running down the middle of it. “Weird,” Chris muttered, and he turned his back on the roads.

Anthony did the same, and he made his way towards the outing in the middle of the gas station, where there was bound to be a cashier inside that he could pay for gas; maybe the attendant would also have some news on why the streets were so empty, the wind so quiet. But when he opened the door and went inside—Chris trailing closely behind—there was no one in attendance, and Anthony gave Chris a glare that said “I told you.”

“Hello?” Chris called out, and he went towards the counter.

Anthony didn’t follow, but started to his left, back behind a rack of snack foods and between two drink refrigerators. As if nothing were amiss, he calmly opened the door and grabbed a can of flavored tea, letting the door slam shut behind him with a thunk.
At the front, Chris was still looking around for their attendant. “Hello?”

“Don’t bother, they’re all gone,” Anthony told him, grabbing a bag of sour gummy worms on his way out from behind the rack of snacks. He opened the pack of candy and popped a few in his mouth, eyeing Chris all the while.

“What are you doing?”

“Enjoying myself,” Anthony answered, and he looked around the room for something more to take. Nothing else of interest remained in the small store for him to eat, so he said to his friend, “Go get some spoon to drink before wee leave.”

For once Chris didn’t laugh at their inside joke, but looked horrified. “Wee can’t just take this stuff; the guy’s probably just taking a spoon in the back.”

Anthony sighed in annoyance. Fine, he thought, and he beckoned Chris to follow. He led Chris outside and to the back of the shop, where they came upon a door that was both the men and women’s restroom. To put Chris’ fears to rest, he knocked roughly on the door, and when there was no answer, Anthony tugged it open, revealing it to be quite empty inside. That was all the encouragement Chris needed, and they returned inside for Chris to grab his newfound treasure; Anthony reluctantly keeping watch by the door at his friend’s behest.

When they returned to Anthony’s car, he watched as Chris dumped two bags of plunder into the backseat. When Chris plopped down in the passenger’s seat, he was hungrily chewing on some beef jerky and already ripping open a bag of potato chips, his jacket pocket also overflowing with candy bars and whatever else he could imagine Chris had 'borrowed'. Anthony had no desire for such unhealthy treats. “Let’s go,” Anthony decided, starting the car.

“Where?” Chris asked through a mouthful of processed meat.

“Home,” Anthony replied, and he backed out of the gas station. Instead of taking a right out of the driveway and going down to the nearest light to turn around, Anthony merely drove down the wrong side of the road for a moment, and when the center divide was there no more to block his way, he merged back over onto the right side of the road.

“What the hell was that?” Chris bellowed, looking out his window to see if anyone was around to witness what had just happened.

“Don’t worry about it,” Anthony told him, beckoning Chris to take the wheel. “You drive.” When Chris was awkwardly driving from the passenger seat, Anthony rummaged through the center dash for his pipe, and with it he found a lighter. Making sure the weed was packed down enough first, Anthony gently pressed down on the large hole at the end of the short pipe before bringing it up to his lips. He lit the lighter and held it against the opening where the weed was placed, and after a moment he inhaled deeply, keeping his finger pressed firmly against the smaller hole on the side of the pipe. He looked up for a second, keeping an eye on the road and the speed he was going. Once he had inhaled as deeply as he could, he let the lighter go out and took his finger off the small hole, and even more smoke was shot down into his lungs. If I was anyone else I’d be coughing my lungs up, Anthony thought with a grimace, and smoothly he blew out a great puff of smoke.

Realizing Chris was having some trouble driving from his position in the passenger seat, Anthony quickly placed his lighter and pipe in his lap and took back control of the wheel. Anthony was surprised Chris hadn’t started to complain about his smoking, but he figured his friend was growing used to it, although he wouldn’t take part no matter how many times he asked him. They were coming up on a turn, so Anthony regained full control of his car and let Chris relax as he took a left turn. They entered a residential neighborhood, complete with two and three-story houses, large driveways and garages, and a prodigious park that lay deeper in the heart of the community. Anthony drove down the road for a bit, and then took a right. After a minute he stopped the car on the side of his house. To his left, the park loomed ominously dark and empty, while to his right his two-story house stood waiting and watching. I wonder if they’re gone, too? Anthony wondered, taking note that his mother’s hatchback and his step-dad’s mini-van were both parked in the driveway, accompanied also by his mother’s dead Charger; the engine had completely blown out, and they had yet to sell the car. It had been sitting in the driveway for months now.

Chris was eager to leave the car, most likely because it smelled thoroughly like marijuana, and he stretched on the opposite side of Anthony’s vehicle after he stumbled out. After stowing his pipe and lighter back in the center dash, Anthony closed his own door and walked around, stalking over towards his house. “Look, the car’s are still here,” he pointed out to Chris, him following behind as usual. He’s always following me around.

“I told you,” Chris said, defiant as ever, and the way his words were muffled gave Anthony the impression that his friend was yet to finish eating the candy and other poo poo he had shoved into his pockets.

“That doesn’t mean anything,” Anthony told him, and they both walked up the driveway, peering into the obscured windows of both cars; each was empty as could be. “They could be just as gone as everyone else seems to be.” Chris was still having a hard time believing what Anthony was telling him. Everyone’s gone, and wee need to find out why. He had to be sure though, so that’s why he had driven back home in the first place. Never bothering to lock the front doors, Anthony walked around the garage to the entrance of the house and opened one of the large wooden doors, holding it open for Chris behind him.

Inside it was pitch black, just the way he and Chris had left it on their way out, but out of darkness two small masses jumped down at them. “Dotty, get down!” Anthony shouted, shaking the dog off his shoe. Chris had to do the same with Anthony’s other dog, that one named Honey. They backed off a few steps, allowing Anthony and Chris to enter the house and close the door behind them, but as soon as the door closed they jumped up and down and ran around their feet, excited to see Chris as always.
After walking up a flight of four stairs, Anthony entered the main area of the house, which led to four other rooms; the kitchen which lay straight ahead, the family room down a step to the right, another four steps leading down to the living room in the left corner, and a larger set of carpeted steps that led upstairs. First Anthony went straight into the kitchen, flipping a switch to shed some light on their situation. Inside it was quite familiar; dishes were piled high in the sink, the counters were dirty with the most recent dinner his mother had prepared, but nothing was out of the ordinary. He went through the kitchen and to the right, and after passing under an archway he entered the small dining room that held a table large enough to seat six, and the remnants of their dinner still remained there as well. He took another right and found Chris looking at the fish in the fish tank against a wall in the family room, sitting on the edge of the couch that lay next to it.
“The fish haven’t left us,” Chris said with a grin, “and neither have your dogs.”
Anthony chortled lazily. “C’mon,” was all he replied with, and he led Chris out of the family room and upstairs. Directly at the top of the steps was a bathroom, and Anthony turned on the lights inside, finding no one. To the right was Estelle’s room, Anthony’s baby sister. He turned on the lights in here as well, finding it to be quite empty aside from all the toys and stuffed animals. It hadn’t occurred to Anthony until then how pink his sister’s room had been. Narrowing his brows in defiance, he entered his brother’s room that lay to the right of Estelle’s. Dominick’s room was truly two rooms in one, for when he entered there was a bed and a side table, with a small lamp to read by, but it was off now. Anthony glanced at the bed, found it empty, and went to his right and up three steps, entering an even bigger part of the room that held a couch, a desk and computer, a television, and a drum set. Empty, Anthony thought, despairing. He realized the television in the room was still on as they’d left it (Anthony and Chris were usually in Dominick’s room when they had nothing better to do), but there was no news on, the station playing whatever scheduled program it was playing. He didn’t even bother to see if any other channels were different.
“He’s gone, too?” Chris suddenly asked, still standing down in the lower half of the room, peering around despite the darkness.
Anthony would have flinched, but he caught himself and instead slowly turned around. “Yes,” was all he said as he descended the stairs and pushed past his friend back out of the room. He left his brother’s room and went down the short hallway to his parent’s room, shouting, “Hello?” There was no reply, so he flipped on a light to just be sure. His parent’s bed was empty, just as he expected, white sheets piled on the floor at the foot of the white bed. Almost unnecessarily, a second bathroom was placed to the left of the bathroom at the top of the stairs (Chris had just strolled into that one, announcing that he had to take a piss), but Anthony entered the master bathroom nonetheless, turning the light on in the process. This wasn’t just a bathroom, as it also served as a sort of treasure trove for his mother. Anthony opened the top drawer under the sink, and inside were a few pipes, a small plate littered with crushed and neglected weed, lighters, matches, prescription pills; everything was up for grabs now, Anthony knew, but all he was interested in was the weed. I’ve had my taste of pills, my time with them is over.
Besides being chef’s (although Anthony’s mother worked at a bank, while his step-father was getting paid for his culinary skills), Anthony’s parents prepared and distributed cookies, brownies, truffles, and any other sort of treats—all made with marijuana for those who were ill and had trouble eating. Sometimes Anthony helped with the baking of the cookies, the preparation of the cookie dough, or powdering the truffles with chocolate (stealing a few here and there), and so did his younger brother on occasion. His parents weren’t very eager to allow their own children to be around such travesties at first, but after a while it had sunk in, and they decided they could use the extra help; Anthony still felt it was better to avoid smoking weed in the presence of his parents though, so he had to hide all his belongings that would hint at his activities.
Now that his parents were nowhere to be found—along with his brother and sister—he deemed it a good enough time to take what he could and get the hell out before anything worse could happen. I’d rather take this chance now rather than regret it later. There were baggies aplenty, so he filled four until they were fit to bursting before storing them in his jacket pocket. He had a pipe that had worked well enough for him so far, waiting back in the car, so he disregarded the ones his mother owned and closed the drawer, turning the light off as he left the room. He heard a flush and waited in the hallway for his friend, and a few moments later the sound of running water was the only noise to be heard beside his own breath. He was surprised his dogs weren’t barking at the shadows outside in the backyard as usual, but he suspected everybody’s disappearance had a part to play in their unusual silence.
The door opened, and Chris came out, drying his wet hands on his tight black pants, a silver chain hanging across his right pocket, connecting his wallet to a belt loop. Besides making Chris think he looked cool, it protected his belongings from pick-pockets. Like he has anything valuable to 'borrow', anyways. Chris turned out the light in the bathroom after giving Anthony an awkward look.
“Wee’re going to your house after wee’re done here,” Anthony said, leading him downstairs. He took two lefts, going down into the living room, and feeling the darkness pressing close, he flipped on a light to keep the shadows at bay. Am I seeing things? Thinking nothing of it, he took another left and was in yet another hallway, the washer and dryer on the left wall and his own room on the right. He prodded the door open with his foot and entered, searching; for what, he couldn’t say. “Wee’ll need supplies, things to keep us safe.”
“Like what?” Chris wanted to know, sitting in a chair at Anthony’s desk. Anthony fell onto his own bed, trying to think.
“Food,” he told his pillow, but Chris could still hear his muffled voice. “Water. Weapons.”
“What do wee need weapons for?”
“Just because wee believe everyone’s gone doesn’t make that entirely true,” Anthony tried explaining. “There could still be a few of us left.”
“Us?” Chris asked, turning back and forth on the chair, restless.
Anthony didn’t answer him, but thought, He’s more nervous than he’d have me know. “Get your backpack from upstairs,” he told him, suddenly knowing what to do. Chris left without a word, and Anthony searched his room for his own backpack.
He found it strewn halfway into his closet, exactly where he’d thrown it lazily aside two days ago after he’d gotten home from school; and yet his studies were the last thing on his mind at that very moment. He snatched it up, dumped out all his papers and school supplies on the floor in an untidy heap and left the room in a hurry, turning to his right on the way out.
He walked past another bathroom that was on the left side of the short hallway, and in front of him was a door that led to the garage. He grabbed the doorknob, turned, and pulled it open to find the space inside even blacker than the living room had been, and he could have sworn he saw something move until he turned the light on. The garage had lacked of cars, as they were parked out in the driveway, but instead there were a few bikes, old television sets, rusty tools, shelves full of extra food, and storage containers that held things Anthony could care less about. Right outside the door to his right was a second refrigerator, and he opened it to find it full of just what he needed. He filled his backpack with as many bottles of water as he could fit, ignoring the various sizes of containers filled with cookie dough (the ones used to bake treats that his sister wasn’t allowed to eat) and slammed the door shut as he left in rushed eagerness. I want to know what’s going on. When he reached the top of the few steps that opened up into the main hall, he meant to go into the kitchen to his left but instead decided to wait at the foot of the steps that Chris was now running down, clutching his backpack—but it wasn’t empty.
“What?” Chris asked at Anthony’s glare.
“Wee need your bag for the food.”
“I need my laptop.”
“Fuck your laptop,” Anthony swore, setting his own backpack on the bottom step.
“I need it,” Chris persisted.
“Whatever,” was all Anthony replied with. Chris descended the rest of the stairs as Anthony turned and entered the kitchen, opening the fridge to see what was inside. Mayonnaise, hot sauce, salad…leftover pork chops, lunchmeat, cheese…He turned at the sudden sound of the front door opening, so he shut the fridge and turned out the light to walk over to Chris who stood in the doorway, peering out into the dark, vacant street beyond and the park laying dark and empty behind it.
All was still, and there was no sound but for the wind. The usual sound of cars speeding down the main road on the right side of the park was gone, and so were the scant few lights that lit the windows of the houses on all sides of the fields and playgrounds that gave Cataldi Park its main source of entertainment. “They really are all gone, aren’t they?” Chris wondered uneasily, although one out of three outcast houses remained to give some light to the darkness of the night, while the rest succumbed into being pitch black and dead. It wasn’t enough.
“I think so,” Anthony acknowledged, joining Chris in the doorway. “But wee have to be sure.”
“I’m not so sure of anything right now.”
“Me either,” Anthony agreed, “but there could still be others out there…others just as confused and scared as us, so wee need to act now before it’s too late.” He was surprised he could think so clearly, despite how much weed he had smoked that day. And I’m still going to smoke more before this night is over. Anthony placed his hand in his jacket pocket, trying to make sure his loot was still in their place, but he had placed his hand in the wrong pocket; instead his hand closed around the cold plastic that made up most of his cellphone, and his heart lurched in his chest. He pulled it out and turned it on, noticing the time. Three fourteen A.M. “Let’s see if this is really happening,” Anthony said, trying to text his friend Danielle, “or if wee’ve just been smoking too much weed.”
“I haven’t smoked anything,” Chris objected, clutching his backpack with his laptop inside.
Anthony ignored him, the bright light from his phone making his eyes ache in the darkness of the house, but he ignored that too, set on finding out what was happening. After a few moments he gave up with a curse, throwing his phone on the floor. “There’s no signal here anymore.” He was fuming, unable to think of what to do or why this was happening, but he knew they had to get out of there; they had to get out and find someone, anyone, and just try to piece to together what was happening. Anthony didn’t like being left in the dark. And it’s too dark in here for my taste, he thought, going back over to the stairs to grab his backpack.
Just to be safe, he actually locked the front door on their way out, and he and Chris loaded themselves and their meager provisions into his car, both eager to be on the road, back out in the open world where they were bound to find someone just as lost as them, looking for answers. Anthony hoped someone knew what was happening.
Instead of turning the car around and leaving from the way they had come in, Anthony accelerated forward, telling Chris to keep an eye out for anyone living. ‘Anything’ living would have been a better choice of words, Anthony thought reluctantly, following the bend in the road, a large grass field spreading out to his left while house after house after house stood in line to his right. At the next cross street he took a right and then a quick left, and soon he was facing the main road the led back to the gas station if he went right, while if he went left it led towards the mountains; the very way he had gone when he had taken Chris up there earlier. He began to think what it would be like to find a small cabin up in the mountains, to just escape the city and live alone in the wild, to breathe the fresh air and start a new life.
Anthony turned right, not bothering to wait for oncoming traffic, as he doubted there would be much, if any at all. He drove down the road, slowing down at the red light in front of him. He heard Chris sigh in relief, but he told him, “I only stopped for this,” taking the baggies of weed out of his jacket pocket and storing them in the center dash. I should be smoking this night away, but I need to keep my head clear for now.
“Can wee just get to my house without you crashing into someone?” Chris begged, eyeing the drugs contemptuously, but Anthony closed the lid and the weed was thought of no more.
“I’ve only crashed the one time,” Anthony argued, not waiting for the red light to turn green, “and you weren’t even there. Besides, I wasn’t even high then, and it wasn’t my fault. You of all people should know I drive best when I’m stoned.”
“I would,” Chris agreed with an uneasy laugh, rolling down his window.
It is hot in here, Anthony realized, rolling down his own as they sped past the gas station, the red car that had been there earlier still lingering with its door open; no attendant or clerk could be seen, and no other cars had come or gone, it would seem. Anthony merged into the right lane and then onto the curving one-lane road that ran in almost a full circle at a slightly elevated angle, and then they were on the freeway. Anthony heard Chris gasp before he could.
The freeway was, one way or another, empty of human life, but the cars that were strewn out across the six lanes on either side were unmoving and abandoned, the light of the moon the only illumination on the scene—although there were one in twenty vehicles that still had their lights on and the doors left open—with dirt and leaves and trash flowing about, shuffling around and in the cars where they could find entry.
“It’s like they all left in a hurry,” Chris said under his breath, but Anthony still heard him nonetheless over the low volume of the music. The music! Anthony suddenly realized, turning the volume up on his radio. Most of the radio stations in the city had bored Anthony to tears with their eagerness to play the same songs too many times in one day (he had chance heard the same song being played at almost the exact same time on two different radio stations, and after that he had lost his faith in humanity), but the station that was upheld by the city college hadn’t failed him yet, and the strange techno-type heavy metal music that was almost blasting from his speakers declared the college station still alive and kicking.
Anthony slammed on the brakes, and just in time to barely come to a stop not a foot away from an abandoned truck. “That was close,” Chris told him with a sly grin.
“Screw the cars,” Anthony bellowed at him, turning the music up even louder. “Listen!”
“What?” was all Chris could say before he realized what was happening. “The radio still works…”
“There’s probably someone still at the station,” Anthony said, feeling relieved. “Maybe he’ll know what’s going on.”
“Maybe,” Chris said, just as unsure as Anthony was.
The songs might be playing from a playlist, though, Anthony though in anguish, and slowly he wound his way past the faction of empty cars that littered the freeway. For half a heartbeat he was tempted to take a better vehicle than his own, but he thought better of it. The station could be just as empty of life as this freeway. Pushing the desperate thoughts out of his head, he focused on driving in and out of the dead cars, until finally they started to dwindle and disappear, until there were only a few stragglers he had to look out for. The most crowded areas were around off ramps and exits, as if someone had deliberately pushed the vehicles there to block their way. Anthony had hoped it wouldn’t be the same for the exit he need to take to get to Chris’ house, but like a slap to the face is was there, plain for all to see. He slowed to a stop at a group of cars, trucks, minivans, and even a motorcycle. “Damn it,” Anthony groaned, slowing his car down to a stop just outside the blocking vehicles.
“Well,” Chris said, taking the hint, and he got out, “this should be fun.”
Anthony followed suit, first turning the radio off as to not draw unwanted attention. He felt as if people were watching him, and not the kind he wanted to get answers from. He shook his head, trying to snap out of his frantic thoughts. There is nothing waiting for us in the dark, he thought, walking over to the mess of cars. Chris had squeezed himself behind the car closest them, and had begun to push to no avail. He’s like a twig, Anthony thought, shouting, “Put some back into it!”
Chris laughed, but he grunted as he tried to push again. “I think that’s the problem, I’ve too much back and none to give.”
Anthony chuckled at that, opening the driver’s door to guide and help push the car; with both of their best efforts they eventually pushed the car all the way to the center divide. The whole time he was reflected on Chris’ attitude and the jokes he invoked on himself and the people who mention anything about his back. He had been born with some back problems, that much was clear, but to those who didn’t know him they would mistake him to be wearing a backpack under his jacket, the hunch was that bad. At first Anthony believed it to be a burden on him, but after a while Chris seemed to come into his own with the knowing that his back wouldn’t get any better or any worse, and instead of feeling sorry for himself he merely shrugged made a jest out of the whole thing. Anthony respected him for that.
Chris wiped the sweat from his brow, only then to wipe it on his pants, breathing hard from exertion. “One down, a dozen or so to go.”
Anthony didn’t find that very funny—he was annoyed with whoever had left or put these cars here, and he wanted desperately to be on his way before someone could spot them. He still felt the eyes burning into his back, but when he turned to look all he saw were the trees on the sides of the roads and the houses and buildings in the distance. He announced that they should continue working, and it wasn’t an hour later until they finally finished, both exhausted. “Whoever put all those cars there are going to wish they hadn’t,” Anthony said, getting in his seat next to Chris, and he drove through the narrow path they had made between the clutter of vehicles; they hadn’t moved them all, but merely the ones in the middle that they deemed appropriately in their way. The left they rest to stand about them as they drove through, giving them naught but dust and smoke to join them in their job of blocking the exit. And they are good at their jobs. With a final rude gesture, Anthony left the exit behind them, following the wide three-lane road around a bend, and the sudden brightness of the road beyond was a surprise.
Across the street on the left-hand corner was another gas station, the only difference being that there were three cars parked next to pumps, and still no one was around. Taking a right, Anthony turned the volume on the radio back up, hoping against hope that he would hear a live human voice, but there was yet another song playing. Wee might have missed the announcements when I turned the damn thing off. Anthony stopped at another red light, sighing in disbelief. He put his back against the headrest, then turned to see what Chris was doing. He found his friend to be staring blankly at the burger joint just on the other side of the sidewalk, but there wouldn’t be anyone there to prepare the food for them. He’s always hungry, Anthony reflected, going forward once the light had turned green. On the other side of the light and on the left loomed a grocery store, and Anthony made a point to remember to give a it a little visit once they were done at Chris’ house. After that came the parking lot, full of cars as always, then a row of small stores consisting of a Mexican bar, a hair salon, a liquor store, a hardware store, and on the very end was a small family-owned diner. They serve buffalo there, Anthony remembered, recalling the few times he had been there for dinner. He didn’t doubt Chris had been there a few times as well, seeing as how his friend lived in the buildings that neighbored these small shops. Right on the other side of a recycling center was the small community where his friend resided, the tan and mahogany town houses looming above most of the surrounding buildings.
He turned left into the driveway, but they were only on the back side of the place now, while Chris’ house was at the very front. He drove down the small lane, he and Chris inspecting the cars in the parking lot around them and the windows in the houses all about them, but still not one person would show themselves. Anthony turned left, and now they were on their way towards the front houses, passing even more cars on either side, while now the buildings were all on the left side now. He and Chris pressed on in silence, and on the right they passed one of the three dumpsters that the community used too much; on the rare occasions that he had actually gone to throw something away in one of them, the trash from many families had overflown the giant green monster of a trashcan to spill all about the floor, leaving a wet, rotten smell pungent enough to gag a fly.
“Finally.” Chris breathed a sigh of relief as Anthony turned left once more, and in every direction houses towered over them. Straight ahead was a building that held numerous smaller town houses, while to the left and right two-story houses stood sentry in the cold night air, guarding the humans who dwelled within them from the terrors of the night. The very end building on the right side was Chris’ home, but once again they were on the back side of the house, and the only thing they could see was the garage and the three windows on the second floor—two were from Chris’ own room, the other from his brother’s. The garage was closed and there was no way of opening it from the outside, and the second parking space given to Chris’ family was already taken by Chris’ mother’s own work vehicle. That’s right, she drives old people around, Anthony recalled, almost daring to laugh. Instead he parked in front of the garage, and both friends got out.
“I don’t think my parents will be too happy with me coming home so early in the morning,” Chris was joking as they walked around the building to reach the front door. Across the street was a car shop, even emptier than it had been when there were still people in the neighborhood. Anthony wondered if anyone would ever work there again, but Chris had unlocked the front door and he followed him inside. Just as Anthony’s house had been, it was dark as pitch in here, too, but soon it was as bright as day when Chris turned the light on in the doorway. It was much the same for its lack of people.
“Hello?” Chris had shouted upstairs and into the darkness that lay beyond, and he and Anthony both waited for a reply before fully entering the house. When no one had shouted down at them for waking them up in the middle of the night, the two were relieved, although in an unusual sort of way. “Let’s see if this works,” Chris said, striding over to the flat-screen television sitting on a shelf in the living room, facing away from the stairs that lay straight ahead of the front door. Anthony watched briefly as Chris turned the television on, walking past him to go into the kitchen on the other side of the living room. He opened the door on the left side of the kitchen that led into the garage, and the dirty purple car that belonged to Chris’ parents was sitting inside as if it were just another day. He let the door slam, and at the same moment Chris swore loudly, announcing that the channels weren’t coming in. Are they taking out our communications? Anthony thought, but it was forgotten instantly as he opened the fridge to see if there was anything of value to take for provisions. Even the freezer proved to be quite empty of anything worth taking, as the only food in the refrigerator was organic vegetarian food that Chris’ mom bought from the grocery store. I’d wager the last time there was meat in here, Chris still believed in Santa Claus. He closed the fridge, disgusted at the sorry excuse of food inside.
“I’m going upstairs,” Chris told him, coming into the kitchen only long enough to tell him such. He wore his backpack on his back, so Anthony followed him upstairs to his room. Chris sat down at his desk, plugged in his laptop to the power strip and into the internet, and they waited in silence for the computer to boot up. Once Chris had logged into his account, it was mere seconds before he had an internet page open, but to their dismay nothing would seem to load and would only give them a connection error.
“This is bad,” Anthony said, sitting on the edge of Chris’ bed. “No internet, no phones, no television…no communication with the outside world.”
“The outside world?”
Anthony scratched his head, thinking. “I don’t believe that everyone on earth is gone, do you?” When Chris shook his head, he continued. “I think everyone in America, or at least in this state, is gone. Whoever is doing this to us has cut all our communication off, so wee can’t call someone in another state or country and ask for help. It makes sense.”
“Like a fire sale?” Chris asked, but Anthony didn’t have an answer for that.
They could be going after the money or the government, but why would they kidnap everyone and leave us here to rot? And how the hell did everyone disappear so quickly, anyways? The last people he and Chris could recall seeing were the ones clubbing downtown, but that was already a few hours behind them. Once they had started their drive home, everyone had already up and vanished without a trace. Anthony pressed his fingers to his temples, trying to clear his head, but it proved to only worsen his thoughts. This is all so confusing.
“Wait,” Chris suddenly said, and Anthony looked up, hoping. Chris’ computer had somehow managed to get the internet working and the page showed the local newspaper’s website. “This doesn’t make sense. There’s nothing about people disappearing.”
“They were probably gone before anyone could update anything.”
“Hold on,” Chris said, holding up a finger to quiet Anthony. He held his silence and watched as Chris typed in another address, this time loading the page of some internet forum. At the bottom of the page it displayed how many members were online, and this early in the morning there would only be a few, if any. “Two people are online,” Chris said in astonishment, and Anthony was bewildered.
“Do you know if they live here or in another country?”
“I’m not sure,” Chris admitted, “but I can find out.” Anthony watched again while Chris clicked on one of the member’s names, and the user’s profile was loaded on the screen. Unfortunately, that particular user had neglected to share his place of origin with the rest of members, and Chris swore as he went back to the home page. He clicked on an icon that read, “New Thread” and he began to post a new topic. He titled the thread as “Help, this is serious!” and in the body he began to write:
“My name is Chris Larimer, and I live in San Jose, California. With me is Anthony Guarino. It is currently 3:37AM, and everyone seems to be gone. Not on the internet, but everywhere. Both of our houses are empty, our parents and brothers are missing, and there is no one to be seen on the streets. I repeat, I am being serious, this is not a joke. Wee are alone and in need of help. The phones and T.V’s don’t work, and wee haven’t seen a single person in the last two hours. Wee’ve been in an empty gas station and wee’ve seen empty stores and houses as well. No one is here, and wee need help. Please, call the police wherever you are and send them here.”

That was all Chris could think to write, and once finished he posted it to the site. “I hope they believe you,” Anthony said, standing up again. “While wee wait, wee should go to the grocery store and get some supplies.” Chris agreed and followed him downstairs, but something had caught Anthony eyes just before he reached for the handle of the front door. “What’s that?” He was pointing to the wall on his right, where a little machine sat atop a shelf, a red light blinking lazily.

“The answering machine,” Chris said without realizing what he had said. After a moment it dawned on him, and they both raced over to it. Chris pressed the play button, and the machine whirred to life.

“One message,” the female voice announced in a drone. “Message: one.”

“Hey, Chris, it’s Andrew. Sorry if this woke anybody up, but I don’t think it will. If you’re there, go outside and have a look around. I don’t know what the fudge is going on, but everyone is gone. I went to get cigarettes like twenty minutes ago, but there wasn’t anyone around. There weren’t any cars driving on the street, and there was no one at the gas station by my house. I went to the liquor store, too, but that place was empty as well. I don’t know what’s going on, but if you get this message, come over to my house. Wee’re staying here until morning. Well, bye.”

“Let’s go,” Anthony told Chris, and he strode back towards the front in a hurry, leaving Chris with no choice but to follow. Before either of them could reach the door, the doorbell rang, followed by a pounding of fists and cries of panic.