The smell of coffee and bacon filled the kitchen the next morning. Quinn sat at the table, nursing a mug while Sarah flipped pancakes at the stove. The television was on in the corner, tuned to a local news channel.
"And we are getting an update now on the situation at the Blackwood Institute," a news anchor said. Her voice was serious. "Officials are now referring to the incident as a 'chemical spill.' They assure the public that the situation is contained and there is no immediate danger to residents outside the immediate perimeter."
The same words from last night, but with a new weight to them. "Chemical spill" sounded more significant than "security breach."
Sarah turned from the stove, a spatula in her hand. "Blackwood? Isn't that where Brenda works? Right near there, anyway." Brenda was one of Sarah's oldest friends.
"I think so," Quinn said, watching his sister.
Sarah put the spatula down and picked up her phone from the counter. She tapped the screen a few times and put it to her ear. Her brow furrowed in concentration. After a few seconds, she pulled the phone away and looked at it.
"That's strange," she said. "I can't get through."
"No answer?" Quinn asked.
"It's not even ringing. It's just… noise." She put the phone on speaker and dialed again. A loud, crackling sound filled the kitchen, a harsh static that made it impossible to hear anything else. In the background of the noise, Quinn could hear broken pieces of a recorded voice, but he couldn't make out any words.
Sarah ended the call, a line of worry now clearly visible on her forehead. "The line must be busy."
Quinn pulled his own phone from his pocket. He looked at the top corner of the screen. The signal icon showed only one bar. As he watched, it flickered and then disappeared completely, replaced by the words 'No Service.'
He opened his notification screen. There were two alerts, both stamped with an official-looking red triangle.
EMERGENCY ALERT: AVOID THE AREA AROUND BLACKWOOD INDUSTRIAL PARK. ROAD CLOSURES IN EFFECT.
EMERGENCY ALERT: OFFICIALS ADVISE RESIDENTS TO SHELTER IN PLACE. AWAIT FURTHER INSTRUCTIONS.
"Sarah," he said, holding the phone out for her to see.
She read the messages, her face becoming pale. "Shelter in place? For a chemical spill?"
The front door opened and Mark walked in, jingling his car keys. "I'm heading out to grab some more milk and bread," he announced. "The kids will riot if we run out."
"Mark, wait," Sarah said, her voice strained. "Look at this."
She showed him Quinn's phone. Mark read the alerts, his cheerful expression fading.
"Huh," he said. "Probably just a precaution. They have to say that kind of stuff." He walked to the window and looked out at the street. "The sirens have been going all morning, though. And there are a lot of cars on the road. Looks like everyone is trying to leave town at once."
"Maybe you shouldn't go," Sarah said.
"It's just the grocery store, Sarah. It's two miles in the opposite direction of Blackwood. I'll be quick," he said, trying to reassure her. He gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. "I'll be back before you know it."
He walked out the door, and a moment later they heard his car start and drive away.
Quinn and Sarah stood in the quiet kitchen, the sounds of distant sirens now more noticeable than before. From the living room, they could hear the loud, upbeat theme song of a children's cartoon. Lily and Tom were sitting on the floor, their eyes fixed on the screen, completely unaware of the tension in the next room.
Quinn looked at Sarah. Her hands were gripping the edge of the kitchen counter. They exchanged a look of shared, unspoken worry. The normal sounds of their morning had been replaced by a growing sense of unease.
Less than fifteen minutes later, the front door burst open. Mark stumbled in, closing and locking the door behind him. He was breathing hard and his face was white.
"Mark? What is it? What happened?" Sarah rushed to him.
"Don't go outside," he said, his voice shaky. "Just… don't."
He leaned against the door, running a hand through his hair. "It's a mess out there. It's not just traffic. It's… wrong. People are driving on the wrong side of the road, just trying to get through. I saw two cars run red lights without even slowing down. A guy down the street from the corner store just stopped his car in the middle of the intersection, got out, and ran."
Quinn felt a cold feeling spread through his stomach. This was more than a chemical spill.
As Mark spoke, the television in the living room flickered. The cartoon vanished, replaced by the face of the same news anchor from before. But she looked different now. Her hair was messy, her eyes were wide, and she was speaking much faster than before. She looked visibly stressed.
"We… we have unconfirmed reports coming in now," she said, looking down at some papers on her desk before looking back at the camera. Her professional composure was gone. She looked scared. "We are now getting reports of… of escalating civil unrest in the zones surrounding the Blackwood Institute. The situation appears to be spreading."
She took a shaky breath.
"Officials are no longer advising shelter in place. This is now a mandatory order. They are urging… they are urging everyone to lock their doors and stay away from windows. I repeat, lock your doors and stay away from your windows."