There was another distant sound of a gunshot going off, the crack echoing into the otherwise silent night. John listened carefully for a second shot but heard none, just the deadening quiet of the evening. 

"Suicide, probably" John muttered under his breath, trying to not let his mind wander to the other possibilities. It sounded like it came from about 2 or 3 streets away, over on the other side of the neighborhood. It could have even been an accidental shot, what with everyone's nerves being on edge with the recent blockade. Or it could be the shooter killed an intruder. Or the intruder could have shot the resident. Or the Shooter was defending his home and never got chance to fire a second shot.

John shook his head quickly, trying to dislodge the nagging anxieties in his head. He had been at home now for two days and despite his abject fear at what might be outside he was getting anxious to just go and find out. His mother was asleep now, but had spent the entire day trying to make cookies for him but not quite realizing that they had no flour left. When she had occasionally realized this she had tried to leave the house to go the local store to buy more flour which John knew was looted, and he had to gently force her back away from the door and occupy her with something else. He was used to caring for his Mother's dementia, but what with the chaos outside she was steadily becoming more of a liability.

John glanced at the clock once more before taking another sip of warm beer. It was getting late and almost time to turn in for the day. There was nothing to stay up for as all the tv was picking up was an emergency channel and the radio was passing warnings to stay indoors and not much else. It was as if his tv and radio just weren't picking up anything other than emergency news channels.

He stood up, brushing off the crumbs from supper off his jacket. That's when he heard the porch floorboard creak outside the front door. He froze in mid step, glancing towards the shotgun that was only 2 meters away leaning against the sofa and feeling like it was a world away. The porch creaked several times more. There was more than one person outside. 

That's when the shots fired through the door.