Neverending

6

Of course, no-one answers the door.

My heart is still somewhere up near my throat, having relocated there around about the time I heard the first Chaos alert. My heart rate has, thankfully, stabilised somewhat. I hadn't really believed she would be here. But I had hoped she'd answer that door. Hoped really hard.

What now?

I walk round to the back, unsure of the usefulness of that course of action but it's what they absolutely do in every movie ever when someone who should be home isn't. I peer through the kitchen window (the next move in every movie). Predictably, I see nothing but a tidy kitchen. No signs of anything that could be interpreted as trouble.

I don't know what else I can do. I peer over the fences either side of Juliette's parents' garden and see the same thing either side. Well-kept lawns. A few garden chairs. No people.

My phone pings.

Juliette!

There's a blue haze around a Haylo message with her icon on it. My heart rockets up to a million as I tap the message. I open it and -

CHAOS NOTIFICATION – LEVEL TWO (2)

Residents of the following counties are asked to use City Hall vehicles to travel to South Dome. Do not attempt to use private vehicles. Private vehicles will be stopped and redirected. The fastest route to base camp is via City Hall vehicles.

- South Dome? Why the hell were City Hall sending people there? It's the last place on Earth you'd want to be in any sort of cataclysmic event.

I push my disbelief to one side, uncaring about the seemingly insane decisions being made by the State on behalf of mankind.

Haylo.

I brush the Chaos Notification to one side and I look for the Haylo message on my screen.

It's not there.

Panic nudges me as I navigate to the app. I tap it. Tap girlfriend. Juliette's message:

Are you kidding me? I'm in. See you in 30 ♥

There's a little yellow heart at the end of her message. The closest Juliette's ever gotten to alluding to her feelings towards me. You wouldn't believe the backflips my heart did reading that message.

I check the date stamp but, of course, I know that the message is from four days ago (Jesus – only four days ago!) I'd asked her if she wanted her artichoke jalapeño pizza extra-large and if she could handle it. We'd talked since then, mostly on the phone. Neither of us are super keen on the 24/7 tech that our parents use for everything.

But the new message? Where is it?

I check the deleted folder. Nothing.

I swipe down to see my notifications. Nothing except the annoying City Hall one (I should probably be taking the Level 2 warning a bit more seriously).

I go back into Haylo, tapping on the eye-rolling FAQ tab, reading through all the predictable trouble-shooting nonsense looking for disappearing messages. Nothing. It's generally accepted that Haylo's functionality is beyond seamless.

I feel worse than deflated. I feel defeated.

The adrenaline that has been fuelling my escape from home and to safety via finding my girlfriend has drained from my bloodstream. I'm empty. And I have no idea what to do next.

I scroll through my contacts and dial Donna's number.

The line connects on the second ring.

'Donna?'