​A Fiction Series

Chapter 12: The First Morning

By Cliff Potts


Baybay City, Leyte, Philippines — July 17, 2026

Mike woke in the shelter before the light came up.

It took him a second to remember where he was, and then another to remember why.

The air was still close. Still warm. Still safe.

Above them, the house waited.

He lay there a moment longer, listening out of habit more than expectation.

Nothing.

Of course nothing.

Eight feet of dirt overhead didn’t let the world in.

Margaret sat on the edge of her cot, already awake, hands folded in her lap like she’d been there a while.

She wasn’t looking at anything in particular.

Just… deciding whether the day had started yet.

“You up?” Mike asked quietly.

“I suppose I am,” she said.

That sounded about right.

He reached for the meter.

The needle settled high in the green.

Still close enough to yellow to keep him cautious.

But not red.

Not anymore.

He watched it for a second, then nodded once.

“Alright.”

He climbed the ladder.

The house felt different the second he opened the door at the top.

Not quieter.

Not louder.

Just… lived in again.

Helen was already in the kitchen.

Coffee in hand. Radio on low. Moving around like she’d been up for a bit.

Tommy was there too, hovering near the table, pretending he had a reason to be standing there.

Carol sat in a chair with the bear in her lap, watching everything like it might explain itself if she stared long enough.

Mike stepped into the room and crossed to Helen.

He kissed her on the cheek.

Then pulled her into a quick hug.

“You alright?” he asked.

“I’m alright,” she said. “You?”

“Yeah.”

He let her go, but not all the way.

The radio was on.

WGN.

Same steady voice.

Power holding in the northern suburbs.

Water available in Niles Township.

Relocation centers active.

Reservists to report.

Men eighteen to thirty-five to report.

The words didn’t land the same way anymore.

Now they sounded like instructions.

“You hear it?” Helen asked.

“Yeah.”

“Sounds like something’s actually working.”

“Some of it,” Mike said.

Tommy stepped forward.

“I can go,” he said.

Mike looked at him. “Go where?”

“With you. Wherever you’re going.”

Mike shook his head.

“Not this trip.”

Tommy frowned. “Then what am I supposed to do?”

“Stay here. Help your mom. Keep your eyes open.”

Tommy didn’t like it.

But he nodded.

Carol looked up.

“Are we staying?” she asked.

Helen reached out and pulled her close.

“For now.”

Carol nodded like that settled it.

Margaret came up the stairs a minute later, moving slower, one hand on the rail.

She stepped into the kitchen, then moved straight to the front window.

She looked out.

Didn’t say anything at first.

Then:

“They’re out and about.”

Mike joined her.

She was right.

Joe’s truck sat in the street, angled toward the corner. Jeff had his hood up again. Janet stood with a piece of paper in her hand, talking to both of them at once.

Across the street, one house stayed closed.

Still.

Mike saw it.

Said nothing.

“They’re not waiting,” Helen said.

“No,” Mike answered. “They’re not.”

He opened the front door.

No hesitation.

Joe lifted a hand when he saw him.

“We’re making a run,” Joe said. “Niles. See what’s actually there.”

“How many cars?” Mike asked.

“Two. That’s enough.”

Jeff shut the hood with a solid thump.

“If it’s what they say it is,” he said, “we come back and tell the block what’s there.”

“Tell them what?” Mike asked.

“Where the water is. Where the shelters are. What they’ve got set up,” Jeff said.

Joe nodded. “And if somebody here needs to go north, we get them there.”

Mike nodded once.

That made sense.

Janet stepped forward with her paper.

“I made a list.”

Mike gave her a look. “I figured.”

“Food, medicine, soap, bleach, batteries… coffee,” she said. “If they’ve got any kind of system in place, we don’t stand there guessing.”

Joe took the paper.

“Coffee’s this high?”

Janet didn’t blink.

“You want to deal with people without it?”

Jeff let out a short laugh.

“She’s right.”

For a second, something like normal passed through them.

Then it moved on.

Helen stepped out onto the porch.

“You going?” she asked.

Mike looked at her, then at the truck.

“Yeah.”

“Alright.”

That was it.

Tommy stood in the doorway.

“I still think I should go.”

“You still think wrong,” Mike said.

Tommy started to argue, then stopped.

Mike eased his tone.

“I need you here.”

That landed.

Tommy nodded.

Margaret stepped out last.

“Watch the roads,” she said.

Mike glanced back.

“I know.”

“No,” she said calmly. “You know normal roads. This isn’t that. You’ve got people tired, scared, and not thinking straight.”

Joe nodded. “Fair enough.”

“If you see military, you give them the road,” she added. “If you see people walking, you don’t stop in the middle of traffic trying to decide what to do.”

Mike held her gaze.

“Alright.”

She gave a small nod.

Janet handed Joe the list through the window.

“Read it all the way through.”

Joe snorted. “I can read.”

“I know. That’s not the same thing.”

Jeff laughed again, quick and dry.

It surprised all of them.

Engines turned over.

Joe’s truck first.

Then Jeff’s car.

The sound carried down the block, louder than it should have been.

Mike climbed into the passenger seat.

Before they pulled out, he looked back.

Helen stood in the doorway.

Tommy just behind her.

Carol holding the bear.

Margaret at the window again.

The house didn’t look smaller.

It looked… settled.

Joe eased the truck forward.

At the end of the block, Mike looked south.

He couldn’t see Chicago.

But he could feel it.

“North?” Joe said.

“Yeah,” Mike answered.

Joe nodded and turned the wheel.

“North it is.”

The truck picked up speed.

Not much.

Just enough.

Behind them, the street didn’t go quiet again.

THE END

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