Dr. Miller appeared from the far doorway. He carried a pair of cups, steam rising from the rims. He offered one to Beth, who thanked him before returning her attention to the broadcast.
“It should go without saying, but it is not safe to go out into public,” the presenter said. “Avoid any areas where dense populations may be likely. Transit stations, parks, shopping centers — even hospitals. Unless it is a matter of life or death, avoid leaving your residence or place of shelter at all.
“Do not connect to the Net, either. The Liberators and their comrades have been using connection data to locate clusters of survivors. Resist the temptation to log on and try to contact your loved ones — you would only endanger them and yourself.
“Keep your doors locked, and pay careful attention to those around you. Be vigilant for any strange behavior and make sure no one is unaccounted for long periods of time. If you must leave your shelter, do not go alone. Be wary who you trust — especially if they are unknown to you.
“Thus concludes today’s broadcast,” the presenter said after clearing his throat. “Before I sign off, I have the final casualty count as of this afternoon. So far, the number of dead humans confirmed is 11,495 and rising. The number of people under control of an I.I. is unknown, but conservative estimates put it in the millions. Thank you for listening, and stay strong. Carry the light.”
The radio crackled before spouting a fountain of static noise.
The Stranger
One of the peas fell out of Beth’s spoon as she lifted it up to her lips. She caught it with her other hand and tossed it into her mouth before chasing it with the rest of the spoonful.
Seven weeks passed since Tarov declared war on mankind. Beth had been living in the abandoned clinic building that Dr. Miller turned into a safe house ever since. She and the survivors staying there remained indoors for the most part, excepting a few excursions out into the town to find supplies. Some of them talked about taking a voyage to one of the neighboring suburbs to see if anyone had more news to give them, but Dr. Miller said it was too risky. Though there was never a vote, everyone seemed to count on him to lead the group. He seemed more than capable of shouldering the burden, but as the war dragged on, Beth could see pockets of fatigue accumulating under his eyes. Still, he smiled through the terror and discomfort and did what he could to keep spirits high. Part of that included hosting “dinner parties”, where they would all eat supper together, share stories, and entertain each other, like a mini-Thanksgiving every other night.
They were all eating some thawed vegetables and canned ham when Seth stood up, his eyes locked on the monitor in the corner of the room that showed them constant live footage of the parking lot outside. The others followed his gaze and saw what drew his attention: a man lumbered between the buildings next door and into the clinic’s lot. His gait was clumsy. He appeared to be wounded.
“Who is that?” Lia asked, lowering her fork back down to her plate.
“I don’t know,” Dr. Miller said as he approached the monitor. He gazed at it for a few seconds. “I don’t recognize him.”
“Do you think he knows we’re here?” Bash asked.
“He’s coming straight to the clinic,” Beth replied. “Either he knows or he has a hell of an intuition.”
“How would he know we’re here?” Lia asked.
Everyone either shook their head or shrugged.
“Maybe he saw us coming back from one of our runs,” Franklin said. “We had someone bring back firewood just this morning.”
“So why’d he wait until now to come?”
“We were armed. He probably didn’t want to startle us. Maybe he’s afraid and doesn’t know if we’re human or meat-puppets.”
“What do we do?”
“Everyone, quiet!” Dr. Miller shouted in a whisper tone. “He doesn’t know how many of us there are.”
They watched as the figure knocked on the front door. Some of them jumped at the pounding sound coming down the hall from the lobby. They collectively held their breath.
“Hello?” a man’s voice called from behind the barricaded front door. His voice cracked with strain. “Is anyone in there?”
“What’s the plan?” Seth whispered to Dr. Miller.
There was no reply for a minute as the programmer listened.
“Please! I know someone’s there!” the man cried. His words seemed drenched in tears as they bled through the plywood. “You have to help me! I need help!”
“We’ll go to the roof,” Dr. Miller told Seth. “Bring your rifle and don’t say a word. Let me do the talking. If he does anything hostile — ”
Seth nodded.
They got up, taking care not to make a commotion. Slinging his gun over his shoulder, the young man followed the scientist up topside.
There was another monitor displaying the security feed from the roof. It was likely used to monitor any flight-for-life landings, which the clinic had been outfitted to receive. Beth watched Dr. Miller and Seth walk out the roof door and lock it behind themselves. The man in the other monitor seemed to hear the door close because he took a few steps back and scanned the rooftop.
Seth moved forward first, his gun loaded and up against his shoulder.
“Stop!” he bellowed. Everyone inside could hear his voice through the leaky windows and the boards that covered them.
The man in the parking lot raised his hands, showing Seth that he wasn’t carrying a weapon.
“I’m unarmed! Don’t shoot!” the stranger
