“Search the security feeds all the way back through the night when we first found Mila,” I say, despite myself. I want to do this alone, but I can’t. I physically, emotionally can’t do everything on my own. “Buzz me immediately if you flag anything suspicious.”
“You got it.”
“And tell Haven to call for a station-wide lockdown, effective immediately. Tell her to have them break off into groups of four—make sure no one’s alone and everyone’s accounted for. Don’t tell them why.”
“Will do, Linds.”
We linger, long enough for me to thinkif he were going to kiss me now, he would have already.
I’m glad he can read me well enough to know not to try.
Lindley, buzz me back.
Lindley, I know you’re seeing these.
Lindley.
LINDLEY.
Haven’s messages pile up, one on top of another, but I’m in no mood to talk. I have work to do. I already said all I had to say to Leo—she can call him.
Another message buzzes in on the heels of the last:If you don’t buzz me back in the next five minutes, I’m making an announcement about the water situation without your input whenever I call for the lockdown. I know you want input on this, Lindley, so BUZZ ME BACK.
I close my eyes, breathe in and out deeply, then tap into the screen.
“Iknewyou were just watching my messages roll in,” Haven says, not two seconds later.
“I’m trying to focus over here.” I keep my voice even, try to stick to business and not feelings. Haven tends to veer toward feelings more often than not. “As far as the announcement goes, I think it’d be best for you to keep it to a bare minimum.”
“Bare minimum, like, ‘No more showers, only drink what you need, and by the way, we’re all going to die’?”
She can’t see my face, and that is a good thing.
“Wow, Lindley,chill,” she says when I say nothing. “That was a joke. Learn to take one.”
“This really isn’t the time, okay?” She’swastingmy time.And how can anyone joke aboutwe’re all going to dieafter everything we’ve been through? After everything we’re still going through? I know some people process stress by turning everything into a joke, but come on.
“I can’t believe you seriously thought I’d say that.” She sighs, a loud and dramatic thing that scrapes at my ears.
I choose to ignore this direction she’s trying to take us, shift back to the announcement. “I definitely think it’s a good idea to make an announcement about the water, because we’re going to run out soon if we aren’t careful—we need everyone’s help on this so we can buy time while we figure out a new plan.” Perhaps it’s time to make a leap of faith onto a burning bridge, attempt to reach out directly to Sergeant Vonn since we still haven’t been able to make contact with Nashville. Despite the inevitable fallout that would surely follow—I still believe we’d be trading slow-starved death for a miserable future, and everything in me recoils at the thought—we need to figure something outtoday. If our situation doesn’t significantly improve within a few hours, I decide, I’m making that call no matter how resistant I feel to it.
“Tell them water access will be restricted to drinking water only, from now until we tell them otherwise,” I continue, before she can get a word in. “Twenty ounces per day, per person, max. Toilets are on their own separate system—tell them to proceed as usual, in case there’s any question—but showers take a major toll on the supply. No showers for anyone, and please emphasize that.”
I already regret this announcement, because ugh. Talk about unpleasant, being stuck in close lockdown quarters without the luxury of keeping clean. Unpleasant is preferable to dead, though. Unpleasant is preferable to displaced.
Haven makes a noise of disgust on the other end, but doesn’t argue. “Do you want me to give them any time frame for when things will go back to normal?”
Forwhenthings will go back to normal. When, not if.
“Let’s not make promises we likely can’t keep.”
She’s quiet, and I have no clue what she might be thinking. Finally, she says: “Wecan take showers, though, right? As long as they’re quick?”
I knead my temples. “Haven. No. Seriously?” What part ofwe’re running out of waterdoes she not understand?
“I just thought, you know, since we’re in charge of things, we might have certain privileges—”
“Listen, I really need to get back to work,” I say, putting some bite in my voice. That’s the only way this conversation is ever going to end. “I’m not going to tell everyone else they’re under water restrictions and then go bend the rules for myself, but if that sits well with your conscience, by all means do it.”
