Harris was starting to freak out.  While many in the other rooms had figured it out some time ago, it was starting to hit him that something wasn’t right and it came in the form of food ceasing to be delivered, then the rooms no longer being cleaned.  He didn’t know if it was some kind of test, or if something went wrong, but he knew something was up.  He kept all the trash over to one side of the room and that was the extent of him dealing with the problem.  It was really all he could think of doing.  

Every so often, he would try the intercomm system but now whoever was there was no longer responding.  If anyone was there.  That was a prospect that shook him to the core and kept him up all night.  Dying here alone.  Would he starve?  Just die?  Who knew?

Harris was never organized, at least offline, and this was no exception.  The small room was messy, even before things started to get bad and that made it a bit worse.  He looked around the room for something to do and was surprised by a sudden, loud CLICK.  It wasn’t too loud and in another life, it wouldn’t have been a huge deal, but in the solitary silence of the room, it seemed like a gunshot.  He looked around and focused on the intercomm but heard nothing, and the lights were off.  

Then, he looked over at the door and then realized it wasn’t right.  The door was normally parallel to the floor, but now, it was straight down.  He looked around, as if sensing some kind of trap as he moved to the door.  Reaching out slowly, as if expecting some kind of punishment, he tapped the handle, then moved it up quickly.  

Working up the courage, he finally put his hand on the door and pulled.  Immediately, there was a noticeable, albeit slight, change in pressure in the room, and then the sounds of chaos in the hall washed over him.  After months of quiet isolation, the sounds were almost shocking even before he began to assess what they actually were.  

There was screaming, yelling, and then what Harris recognized as panic.  It seemed that for the most part, people were confused.  As he made his way to the hallway and looked around, it was exactly that.  There were dozens of people in a variety of states and he began to try to listen more directly to what was being said.  He focused in on a few people in security suits as they seemed to be issuing orders and were also armed.  

He heard them screaming things like, “try to stay calm,” and “get a bag together of your warmest clothing.”   Eventually he heard someone mention the armory and stairwell going up.  A man walked by him and seemed to be making a beeline for his room when Harris put a hand out and asked, “hey, what’s going on?”  

The man pushed by him but at least started to answer him in a rushed tone.  “The building is being evacuated, we need to get to the roof and get the hell out of here.  Pack up and get ready.”

The man didn’t look back as he rushed into his room and didn’t seem concerned with Harris or anything else at all.  Harris shook his head and went back into his room.  He spotted a small gym bag and tossed it on the bed and spent the next several minutes shoving clothes into it.  

When he walked back out into the hall, many people were out there, almost all of them if he had to guess.  It was then that he realized many were armed and looking over guns.  He carried his bag and moved towards the other end of the hall, finally asking one of the guards, “so, do I get a gun or something?”

The guard looked at him with an annoyed look, but there was a noticeable look of panic on her face too.  She quickly answered “the armory is right there.  Grab what you need, but if you can’t use something, don’t bring it.  No reason to shoot yourself or carry unnecessary stuff.  Hurry, we’re heading up in about 5 mics.”

Harris looked around made his way to the armory.  He grabbed a shotgun and looked around at the other two people who were going through gear, not paying him any mind.  He’d never actually fired a gun, but he knew the basics of a shotgun and had heard they were easy to use.  He grabbed it, along with a couple boxes of shells and moved back out into the hallway.  People were getting in line along the hall where the stairs lead up while others still moved about and packed or talked hurriedly.  

Harris looked around and was about to ask a question to the security guard when there was a sudden flash and a blast of heat and a wave of concussive force that had him rolling over and trying to get his senses back.  He inhaled and could smell fire, but his ears were ringing when he found himself being lifted up and pushed forward.  He could see up ahead that people were moving up the stairs and then behind him, he heard a few bursts of gunfire, followed by screaming.  The screams were human, and they were full of pain. 

Quickly, Harris made his way up the stairs as he could feel the panic rising in himself, but also the others around him.  It was palpable, almost like the smoke from the prior explosion.  Soon there was more screaming, but it was yelling at others to move, go, run.  

Never looking back, Harris moved as quickly as possible and eventually made it up to the roof.  He didn’t know where to go, or what was happening, so he followed.  He became aware of the loud whir in front of him and realized that a large helicopter was starting up.  To someone like Harris, it was unreal.  He didn’t know what exactly was going on or what to do.  It seemed like time was flying by him as he was moved onto the chopper and seated and buckled in.  After a few moments, the helo started to lift off and there was screaming and pointing, and then the machine lurched heavily to the side.  Harris could hear, but not see, someone who was apparently grabbing on to the side, which seemed to be too much for the machine to life up properly.  

Harris unbuckled and moved to the door and ended up looking down at two people who were on the side, not letting go.  The pilot turned around and fired two rounds, each hitting those people in the face, right in front of Harris.  He was pulled back and shoved into the seat, where he buckled in, unable to talk or move after witnessing the events.

Even with the loud turbines and blades rotating, it seemed quiet on the helicopter.  No one was talking.  They were either looking around blankly, or staring at the floor.  It was then that over the loudspeaker, a male voice boomed over them.  “We’re almost out of fuel people.  Looks like a line was cut or something.  Either way, I’m taking us as far as I can fly, then we’re gunna go down kind of hard.  Put a pack or something on your thighs and brace.  It’s not going to be too long.”

What the fuck does ‘go down kind of hard’ even mean?  There was a lurch, then another, and the helicopter dropped slowly.  A short moment later, there was another lurch, but this time, it was not followed by a pick up, and there was a loud crash...then, silence….