Rachel Yan (11) | STAFF REPORTER
“When will mom be back?” Joyce asked, walking into the kitchen. She held out her phone. “She only told me she’s left for the meeting. It’s getting dark out.”
Elaine was perusing the fridge. “There’s no entourage tonight.” She closed the door. “So, tomorrow morning. She’ll be staying at Centre 2.”
“I knew I was on to something when I told mom not to move out here before all this started,” Joyce muttered. “But no! We needed stupid “fresh air” and to “experience the countryside”. All these entourages could have been avoided.”
At the table, Elaine sighed and pulled out her homework. “Joyce…”
“What?” Joyce flicked on the radio.
“Nothing.” She turned back to her book. They sat quietly, listening to voices on the radio discussing the president’s press conference about his planned megastructures. It was followed by a report of all the available centres in the region, along with the vacancy rate at each. Everything was about the latest updates on the current situation.
It was known as the shadow sickness. Though it technically wasn’t a sickness at all. Joyce had learned about pathogens in school – how they didn’t form from nothing, needed exposure to air, etc. This sickness wasn’t pathogenic, or from anything scientists had ever observed before.
The sickness was caused by darkness. The simple lack of light. It occurred when the level of lighting was lower than a certain intensity, and a large enough space was filled with darkness. Black splotches formed on the skin of any human exposed to such conditions, sinking deeper into the flesh the longer the exposure. The symptoms resembled those of frostbite, causing necrosis that started in the extremities. The worst cases often had bite and claw marks on the flesh, though the cause of the phenomenon had not been observed.
After a while, Joyce spoke up. “I heard they’re going to build a megastructure north of the city.”
Elaine scoffed. “Oh please. They’ve only managed to come up with plans in the last six months. How much longer do you think it’ll take to finish it?”
“Have a little faith.” Joyce frowned.
“In our government? Ha. As if we’d even be able to afford a lot in their fancy light-regulated building.”
“Not having to die in the dark is a human right.”
“A very expensive right. Did you know there are companies developing mobile machines that keep you lit from every angle as you walk? And of course we’d never afford it. We’re only good enough for the entourages,” Jane said, referring to the large but slow well-lit public buses to carry around those who couldn’t do all their travelling during the day and couldn’t afford the newly expensive taxis.
There was a loud beep from the radio. “Attention,” a woman’s monotone voice read out.
Both sisters paused to look at it.
“Due to complications from a re-routing of an electric station in the area, the region comprising Moorwood to East Erinville may experience an electricity outage. Please do not panic, and follow emergency protocol.”
“Oh no,” Elaine whispered. “No.”
“Why are you getting so worried?” Joyce peered at her sister. “We have backups.”
Elaine lowered her eyes. “Mom sold the generator to Mrs. Thomas last week. I saw the note on the table. She didn’t tell us because she didn’t want us to worry. The other one is broken.”
“No way,” Joyce snapped. “That’s illegal. Mom wouldn’t leave our residence without a backup. She knows better than that.”
Elaine just stared at her.
The lightbulbs above them flickered.
Joyce swore. “What do we do? Where’s the nearest building? Where’s our local centre?” With the construction of the light megastructures barely under way, the city was making do with converting department stores into light centres to offer shelter to anyone who wouldn’t be able to get home before night.
“It’s too far. And it’s dark. You can’t just walk outside.”
“Where is it, Elaine?” Joyce demanded. “We’ll stay, but if the light goes out, we might at least have a chance of getting there.”
Elaine scrambled to the chest of emergency supplies. “The nearest centre is the emptied Walmart on the corner of Anderson. I don’t know if any other buildings nearby are open.” She pulled out two strong flashlights and tossed one to Joyce.
They sat down beside the front door. “What do you think are the chances that the lights will stay on?” Elaine asked in a small voice.
The lights went off. They turned on their flashlights. Five seconds passed.
“It’s not going back on,” Elaine whispered.
“Go. Go!” Joyce shouted, pushing her out the door. They stumbled down the driveway. They turned their flashlights on each other as they ran down the road, trying to stay as illuminated as possible.
Dark farm fields stretched to either side. They sprinted, slipping on the snow-covered asphalt.
They seemed to run for hours. A mile down the road, Joyce could feel herself tiring. Her hands were numb. Her neck and back prickled with pain, though she couldn’t tell how much of it was sickness and how much was the cold. She’d read that patients often reported the two feelings were similar.
Up ahead, a building came into view. “There,” Elaine gasped.
Joyce could not speak. She was falling behind Elaine, who had to look behind her as she ran to keep the flashlight beam trained on her sister. Joyce tightened her icy hands around her flashlight, but she could feel it sliding from her grasp.
They rounded the corner. A long stretch of empty parking lot lay between them and the entrance, the streetlights unlit to save electricity. Joyce saw the flashlight slip from her arms and tumble into a ditch in the snow.
“Leave it!” Elaine shouted. She was sprinting for the entrance now, her flashlight beam slicing wildly through the air with every step.
Joyce tried to follow her, but she felt herself faltering. She staggered forward, leaning against the pole of a streetlight. As she watched Elaine enter the bright interior of the store, Joyce slipped and sprawled onto the asphalt.
With her last strength, she rolled herself over. She had no breath left to scream as pain lanced across her back and arms. At the edge of her sight, Joyce could see blood smeared across the snow from her hands.
Her vision started to fade. She gazed up for the last time at the night sky, and was surprised to see a glowing white light above her. Well, she supposed that was a fairly common sight before death.
She tried to close her eyes, but the light seemed to burn more insistently. She reopened them, and the lit street lamp above her came into focus. Joyce shifted her head to see every row of street lights in the parking lot shining brightly. Two figures were making their way from the Walmart doors towards her.
Slowly, she began to laugh. “I can’t believe I was going to die in a Walmart parking lot,” she whispered.
