Hatcher groaned as he fell into step with Roger. He paused and peered through the windows. “It’s dark out.”
Roger nodded. “Yeah, it does that after the sun goes down.”
Hatcher suddenly felt panic. “We need to kill the lights!”
Roger stiffened then glanced down both hallways. “There’s too many.”
“The main breaker.” Hatcher ran to the maintenance closet and jerked open the door. He reached inside and opened the breaker box. “I hope this works.” He flipped the main breaker and the building was instantly shrouded in darkness.
He could hear the groans and mumbled complaints from people before he shut the door. He turned to Roger. “You take the east wing, I’ll go west. Explain to the folks why we did it.”
“On it.”
Hatcher flipped on his flashlight and went room by room. “Until we beef up security outside, it’s blackout conditions at night.”
There were groans and a few complaints but most agreed with his reasoning. Unpacking and eating cold meals were not what they had envisioned, but they would sacrifice until security was improved.
When Hatcher finally walked through the doors of the cafeteria, he was met with hostile stares and mutterings. He almost turned around, opting for a cold MRE in his office, when Candy grabbed him and dragged him to the front of the line.
“I, for one,” she stated loud enough for the room to hear, “am glad that somebody is thinking of our safety.”
Hatcher groaned as she dragged him to the stack of trays and pulled one down for him. “Load him up. He needs to keep his strength up.”
The woman that he now knew as Ida gave him a sideways smirk. “Luckily, all the cooking’s done.” She plopped something on his tray that he couldn’t identify in the dark. “Cleaning up might not be as easy without lights.” She bent forward and lowered her voice. “I was really looking forward to using that dishwasher back there.” She plopped something else onto his tray and Hatcher sighed heavily.
“I’m sorry Ida. It’s just until we can—”
“I know. I heard.” She plopped a third something on his tray then hooked her head to the side, indicating that he was blocking the line.
Hatcher let Candy lead him to a table and he sat near a window, the moonlight casting an eerie glow as he picked through the slop on the tray. “I never realized how much seeing your food improved the flavor.”
Candy snorted and sipped at a glass of iced tea. “Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve had a COLD drink?” She slid his cup across to him and he took a sip.
“Oh, yeah.” He nodded as he wiped the sweat from the plastic cup. “I might actually enjoy living here.”
Candy nudged his leg under the table. “Maybe we can make that perimeter fence a priority?”
Hatcher held the fork just in front of his face. “Security IS the priority. Not just the fence.”
“Yeah, I like your new TV setup.” She cracked a grin. “I don’t suppose you get cable on that thing?”
“Just your shower.” He winked and shoved the food into his mouth quickly.
“Still not funny.” She tossed back her drink and stood. “I’m getting more before the ice melts. Need a refill?”
He shook his head. “I’m good.” He glanced through the darkness. “Where’s Roger?”
“Shower. He wants to use the hot water before it’s all gone.” She bumped the table with her hip as she stepped away. “Thanks again for the liquor.”
Hatcher groaned. “Yeah and thanks for that visual.” He held the fork in front of his mouth again but just couldn’t bring himself to eat. He pushed the tray aside and finished his tea before standing up.
Stanton appeared at his side. “We have trash cans just for food items.” Hatcher nearly jumped at his voice in the darkness. “No time like the present to start composting.”
“Yeah,” Hatcher sighed, “composting.” He pushed away from the table and squinted into the darkness. The number of people milling about the cafeteria impressed him. He felt an overwhelming urge to spread hope and before he knew it he was tapping on his tray with his fork.
“If I can have everybody’s attention for a moment?” He waited for the quiet murmuring to stop then cleared his throat. “I’m sorry we cut the power on you all without warning. That was entirely my fault. It had gone dark before I realized it and…anyway, tomorrow night, if the exterior perimeter fence isn’t finished, we’ll leave the power on, but the lights have to go out. Until the fence is finished, we stay dark at night.”
“I can still run the dishwasher?” Ida asked to a round of quiet chuckles.
“Yes ma’am, you most certainly can.” Hatcher tried not to smile but her attitude was contagious.
“Then I might let you eat here again, Mr. Hatcher.”
“Thank you, Ida. I appreciate the sentiment.” He pushed away from the table and picked up his tray. “That’s all I got folks. I just wanted to say I was sorry for plunging you into darkness.”
He received a soft round of applause, each wanting to show appreciation without making too much noise.
He walked to the trash cans and scraped his tray. As he set the tray aside he glanced out the window and felt a wee bit of hope himself. “I hope this wasn’t a mistake.”
“You don’t understand! We’ve been attacking this from the wrong angle!” Broussard tried to impress the importance of his revelation on the yeoman.
“I don’t care. The captain is a busy man. He doesn’t have time for—”
“For saving humanity?” Broussard interrupted. “Because that is exactly what we are talking about here. Rather than having mankind extinguished from the planet, we might be able to actually cure the infected.”
“Might.” The yeoman nodded smugly. “I can’t bring every hair brained idea up the chain of command just to see who might salute it.”
Carol stepped between the two and tapped at his chest once more with her finger. This time he scowled like he might stop her from ever
