LOGINEvelyn did not trust people simply because they lived nearby.The apocalypse had changed the circumstances of their lives, not their character. Some people would help others even when resources were scarce. Others would wait for an opportunity to take whatever they could.She needed to know the difference.That morning, she decided to visit the neighboring houses, not to introduce herself or offer supplies, but to observe how the residents were managing. She had lived on the street long enough to recognize several faces, yet she knew very little about most of them.Before leaving her compound, she checked the cameras and secured the house.The first person she encountered was an elderly woman sitting outside her gate. A small radio rested on her lap, and she was trying to adjust its antenna.“Good morning,” Evelyn greeted.The woman looked up. “Good morning, my dear.”“Have you been able to get any news?”“Not much. The radio works for a few minutes, then the signal disappears.” She s
The shortage began with cooking gas.Evelyn discovered it when she checked the neighborhood shop's notice board on her camera. A handwritten sign had been placed across the entrance, informing customers that no new stock would be available until further notice.By afternoon, two more shops had displayed similar notices.People were beginning to panic. Some had electric hot plates, but the power supply remained unreliable. Others depended entirely on gas for cooking, and the few who still had cylinders were reluctant to use them.Evelyn wasn't worried about cooking. She had alternatives and enough supplies to manage without depending on the shops.What concerned her was the growing number of people gathering around the remaining suppliers.She watched as a crowd formed outside a small gas depot near the junction. A delivery truck had arrived, and people immediately surrounded it, shouting for the driver to distribute the cylinders.The driver refused to open the back.He tried explaini
The first sign of trouble came from the road behind Evelyn's house.A series of heavy impacts shook the quiet morning, followed by the screech of metal. She looked up from her breakfast and checked the security cameras.A cargo truck had struck the entrance to a small distribution depot two streets away. Its front end was crushed against the concrete barrier, and several workers were running out of the building. Boxes had spilled across the road, blocking the route Evelyn had used the previous day.She set down her cup.The accident was serious, but the crowd gathering around it concerned her more. People were rushing toward the scattered goods, grabbing cartons before anyone could determine whether the truck was carrying food, medicine, or ordinary merchandise.A man climbed onto the truck's rear platform and began throwing boxes to the crowd.Then a second vehicle arrived.Its driver sounded the horn repeatedly, trying to get through, but nobody moved. Within minutes, the road had b
By the following morning, Evelyn had made up her mind.She could not spend every day watching the cameras and reacting to whatever happened outside. Her supplies were secure for now, but she needed reliable information about the surrounding district. If the roads became completely impassable or medical services disappeared, she would have very little time to adjust.She decided to visit the community center Peter had mentioned.She wouldn't go to offer unlimited help or make herself responsible for strangers. She wanted to confirm whether the treatment point was operating and find out which roads remained usable. That information could matter if she ever needed to leave her neighborhood in a hurry.Before departing, she checked the gate, the locks, and the camera feeds. The fallen tree still blocked part of the street, but workers had begun cutting away the smaller branches. The stolen-property incident had not repeated overnight.She left through the rear access lane and took the uti
Evelyn woke to the sound of metal striking metal.She sat up immediately, reached for her flashlight, and checked the time on her phone. It was barely past five in the morning.The noise came again, followed by angry shouting from the street.She opened the security monitor.Three men were attempting to force open the gate of the house across from hers. One held a metal bar while another pulled at the lock. A fourth man stood near the road, watching for anyone approaching.The house belonged to an older couple who had evacuated the previous afternoon. Evelyn had seen them leave with two bags and a small suitcase.The men knew the property was empty.She watched as the lock gave way.One of them pushed the gate open and disappeared inside. Another followed, carrying a large sack. The man standing guard glanced toward Evelyn's compound, then returned his attention to the street.Evelyn's stomach tightened.She could call the police, but the response time was uncertain. She could confron
Evelyn waited until the injured man and his family had moved away from her gate before returning inside.She had given them a dressing, clean gauze, and instructions to maintain pressure on the wound. It wasn't enough to treat a serious injury, but it was better than leaving them with nothing. She had also told them where the nearest clinic was located, though she couldn't guarantee that anyone would be working there.She locked the inner door and checked the cameras again.The street was growing darker. People who had spent the afternoon trying to salvage belongings were beginning to disappear into whatever shelter they could find. A few families carried mattresses toward the larger buildings, while others pushed loaded carts through the narrow roads.Evelyn turned away from the screen.She had spent too many hours reacting to whatever happened next. Now that she was home, she needed a practical plan for the days ahead, one that did not depend on the authorities restoring services or







