Freyr grinned impishly when Indy felt her gun with both his hands. Biting her lip mock-seductively she whispered in his ear "is that a gun in my pants or am i just pleased to see you?" It dawned on her just how ridiculous this whole affair seemed. Yesterday she had been trying to sell a lovely Greek revival house to a lovely couple who drove a lovely car. Barely twelve hours later and she'd just seen someone hit over the head with a vase that clearly needed to be restrained in a psychiatric ward. Freyr looked out at Atlanta, it seemed quieter than normal. The pure darkness that permeated the watchful blocks of flats was unsettling and Freyr would have given anything to hear another fire engine zooming to put out a house fire.

The family approached them at the breakfast island. The two children had stopped crying and were putting on a brave face, the parents looked shell-shocked but stable. Freyr peeled away from Indy and met them. "I'm sorry about what happened. What're you going to do now?" Both the adults looked at each other before answering her. "We're going to continue what we planned. Head for Florida, my parents." The woman said courageously. Freyr nodded. "They said on the news it's some kind of virus, it drives people insane or something." The man said helpfully, motioning back towards the TV. Freyr didn't want to think about what it is; let the authorities deal with it. They were safe up here for a few days, while the food lasted. 

There was a low and muffled noise far down below them and the lights flickered, went off before coming back on again. Freyr instinctively looked up at the ceiling as the family ushered themselves out, fleeing with their suitcases down the corridor. "What's up with the power?" She asked, looking at Indy as the lights flickered violently again. She looked to the muted TV. The anchorwoman who was looking very seriously into the camera blinked in and out of existence. Freyr was beginning to hear people in the nearby flats talking anxiously too.