Chapter 2

March 27, 2020   I didn't believe it when I saw it. It seemed like a joke. "Stores everywhere are running out of toilet paper!" ...Why? We don't really know why this particular item started vanishing from shelves, but we do know how it happened. It only takes one panic buyer. Someone goes to Kroger and scoops up a month's worth of toilet paper during a global pandemic. Another person sees them and decides to do the same. A few more make a similar decision. Perhaps someone records the strange purchase on their phone. The video goes viral on social media. News articles plaster the headline across the country. The snowball becomes an avalanche. Within days, maybe even hours, America is out of toilet paper.     I wouldn't have believed it if I hadn't seen it myself. I'm standing in the bathroom aisle at Kroger and, to my astonishment, no toilet paper. But it's not just that. No paper towels, not paper cups, paper plates, or even moist wipes are left. Other items to vanish:

• Hand sanitizer

• Bread

• Milk

• Meat, of all kinds

• Bottle water (remember the guy who got stabbed a couple of weeks ago?)

  But thankfully, not the gas. Fuel supply seems to be at an all-time high, as prices plummet and the government stockpiles barrel upon barrel of crude oil and gasoline in response to the travel and tourism industry crumbling. Stores are closed. Restaurants are limited to carry out and delivery. County after county, a curfew is initiated. No one is to be outside after 9 pm. It's for our own safety, they claim, which I do believe is at least mostly true.    That was until I saw the county sheriff deputies patrolling the streets of my neighborhood in broad daylight. I had lived in this city for four years and had never seen so much as a truancy officer at the high school down the street. But again, these are unusual times. Let's see what becomes of them.  March 28, 2020

 I saw my friends for the first time since graduation today. It was exactly what we needed. The threat of impending doom had really dampened our collective mood, but as soon as we saw Jocelyn's bare walls juxtaposed to her living room floor, tessellated with portraits, levity eased our spirits. When she opened the first bottle of wine, we perfected our performances of poise and palate purity. 

  "Let me take my glasses off for this," Lorenzo said, placing his lenses on the kitchen counter, filling the empty space between his fingers with the stem of a wine bottle. He poured himself a glass of something pink and bubbly.

  "Wait, won't you see worse without your glasses on," Jocelyn inquired, suddenly fiddling with his bifocals in her hand.

  "Nah, these are just for style," he explained, outstretching his leg to pose his carefully crafted black and gold ensemble of wares collected from local thrift shops. "I'm wearing contacts, anyway. I just wanted to be dramatic." Lorenzo takes a smooth sip of his wine.

  "Weird. Also, I'm not gonna lie to you, this wine was the sweetest thing they had at Kroger," Jocelyn proclaimed. 

  "Why would you ever buy anything else?" Lorenzo retorted. Abby, Phil, and I joined them in the living room after pouring glasses for ourselves. 

  We spend the next hour helping Jocelyn decorate her new home with fixtures she had crafted in a past life. We chatted merrily, reminiscing on old adventures, big and small.  

  "Remember that time Marquis was a jester and everyone else was a werewolf and he thought he was so smart and that there was no way he could lose?" posed Abby. "Then he lost because he was too stupid to just 'mason" three times? Because I remember. I'll never forget." 

  "Yeah, game night was a lot of fun," added Phil. "Until it wasn't. We should get Jack Box and play Quiplash or something."

  "Remember that fight we almost had over Catan?" Lorenzo asked. 

  "Marquis told me about it. What was that all about?" Phil responded. The incident was a vague memory of an even vaguer memory. 

  "Basically, this one guy was being an asshole and acted like I didn't know how to play so I threw his stuff to the ground. It was a long night."

  "...Oh..."

  "I remember everyone always being mad at me for the way I played Werewolf," offered Jocelyn.

  "Literally same," I joined. "Every move was the wrong move, even when you won."

  "I miss it though," Abby admitted. "Like it's rare that we actually all get together. I wish we could have that back in some way, but everyone is grown up now and moved away. I'm not sure if it will ever be the same."

  "Maybe it doesn't have to be the same," said Phil. "Maybe the change is good. I like this smaller group."

  "Better for the environment and our health," I added, though admittedly, I do always prefer larger groups for games. The more competition, the more fun. Not because there are more people to defeat, but because there are more people with which to lose. Winning is fun, but a collective loss is how relationships are built.

"I actually have a few games here with me," Jocelyn shared. We wore our joy on our faces proudly. 

  That joy immediately became ambition when she pulled out the Monopoly board. Utilities became a hot commodity as Jocelyn and Phil haggled over how many railroads to trade for that sweet slice of prime real estate, Boardwalk. That familiar feeling of stress started to creep its way back into Jocelyn's living room after I got sent to jail for the third time in a row. Clearly, the game was rigged. I don't know how, but I'm certain Lorenzo gave me weighted dice to roll, or maybe he's counting cards (is that even a thing in Monopoly?) Anyway, I know I'm being conned for their amusement. Every night I spent in the slammer was another round of taxes Abby collected. It made me sick. I loved every moment of it. 

But that stress pressurized into rage after no more than four rounds of Uno. No one could agree on the rules. Jocelyn kept touting something about "House Rules" which I think was just an excuse for her to stack a Draw 2 on a Wild Card. Speaking of which, can you stack two Draw 4 cards on top of one another? Phil says you can't as it's not in the official rules. Lorenzo says the rules are a corporate mechanism intended to propagate the capitalist regime. Abby says you can't, unless it's against me, in which the effect doubles each card, making it a Draw 16. 

  As the debate was devolving toward fisticuffs, we heard a ding from the kitchen. The food was finally ready. We had been gorging ourselves on chips and pretzels for the last hour and a half, so the salty-spicy-sweet aroma of Jocelyn's famous chili jalapeno poppers was a welcome addition to the feng shui. She also baked some leftover spaghetti from earlier in the week, which we had no problem swallowing whole. We sat together on the couch and started watching our favorite shows. It felt like we were back in college again. 

  While waiting for a commercial to end, I checked my phone. Camille had sent me a tweet. She's notorious for sending me the most hilariously heinous content, so I decided to have a look, thinking maybe my friends would enjoy a solid meme as we waited for the show to return. But this time, it wasn't a meme. It was an article from the Washington Post. The headline read, 

President Trump Declares National State of Emergency, Establishes Stay at Home Order

 "Hmm," I said to myself. Admittedly, I had been conflicted about the entire affair. I felt that the outbreak was serious. That much was apparent to me. But I always found myself reluctant to speak gravity into the situation. It was somewhere between fear and selfishness. I didn't want to stay indoors. Actually, that's a lie. I always want to stay indoors. But I don't want to be told to. And this wasn't about some struggle against authority, like how you're okay with washing the dishes until you're told you have to. No, this was different. I didn't want to stay indoors for the same reason I kept trying to convince my mom that the threat to us was low; If I accepted this was an emergency, if I agreed to stay inside, if I told her the truth behind the danger, then it would be real. Just as soon as I accepted reality, it would become inescapable, irreversible, inevitable. I didn't want to face it. 

  I locked my phone. I could read more details when I got home. 

  At the end of the night, we went our separate ways. Jocelyn didn't want to take care of all that food we had leftover. "I can't eat the spaghetti thrice," she explained. 

   "Not with that attitude," Lorenzo retorted. "Break the chains." We all laughed warmly but little did they know, my pockets were already stuffed with iced sugar cookies. Her offer was generous, but it was more fun if she didn't know. We fled into the night, absconding with semi-pilfered snacks and heavy hors d'oeuvres. I was loading the contraband into my car when Phil came up to speak to me. 

  "Hey man, be careful out there. I don't know when we'll see each other again, so stay safe," he pleaded. 

  "I'll think about it," I responded, intending to annoy. 

  'You better," he warned. 

  Phil went back to his apartment. Lorenzo went back to his house. Abby lives across the state, so she stayed in the city with her sister in her dorm. At most, there was a 30-minute drive ahead of each of us. We promised to check in once we made it safely. Jocelyn was already home, of course. Abby was the first to arrive, followed closely by Phil. I got home 20 minutes later, but there was still no word from Lorenzo. It made sense, considering Lorenzo lived the furthest away in Lawrenceville. But after an hour, we knew something was up. 

March 29, 2020

 It was 1:12 am when we group FaceTimed. Lorenzo wasn't answering any of our texts, which either meant he was driving, or he had already crashed and died. There was no in-between, not for us. 

  "Where do you think he is?" Abby inquired.

  "I hope he's safe. It's dark on 316," said Phil. "Back in school, I always had to leave Athens early if I was trying to get back home because there aren't any lights for miles on the road."

  "I'm sure he's fine," I replied. "I know his sight isn't all that great, but he's driven at night before. He even has his contacts on."

  "I don't know man. I see better with my glasses at night."

  "Same here," Abby joined.

  "Me too," colluded Jocelyn. 

  "Well, that's a shame..." As the only member of the group privileged enough to see for free, I didn't have much to say. "Hopefully-

  As if summoned, Lorenzo entered the chat. We all held our breaths. "Hey guys, sorry about that. I'm alright."

  "What happened?" demanded Abby. "We were so worried! Marquis said you died in a horrible crash-"

  "And Abby said you burned alive when your car caught on fire and the gas tank exploded," I retorted.

  "You think fire can kill me? Amateurs," Lorenzo offered, disgusted. 

  "Only if the flames are black," Jocelyn argued. 

  "You get me. Abby, I appreciate your concern. Marquis, catch up."

  I hold my tongue. "So what did happen?" Phil continued. "Does it really take an hour to get home from Jocelyn's place?" 

  "It shouldn't have," Lorenzo began, "But there was a traffic stop."

  "Omg, you got pulled over by the cops?" Abby pleaded. "Are you okay?"

  "Not a traffic stop. My bad. A roadblock. The police were stopping cars on the road, checking ID's and license plates, and asking them questions. Traffic was backed up for literal miles. I was gonna text you guys, but police were everywhere and I didn't wanna get a ticket for breaking that 'hands-free' law. I don't pay the pigs, so I waited."

  "Wait, what??" Phil questioned him. "What do you mean? What were they asking you?"

  "I don't really know. Might be some killer on the loose and they don't want them getting away."

  "Might be about coronavirus," I offered. "Seems a bit extreme at this point, but they might be trying to track where people are going and coming from. They didn't test you or anything, did they?"

  "Not that I know of, no. But some people did get carted off."

  "Like arrested?"

  "No, not really. At least I don't think. They just got... taken away. Not in a police car or an ambulance or anything, but in the back of a truck. It was weird."

  "Oh no," Jocelyn whispered. "I know that had to be the craziest scene. Weren't they screaming and resisting and stuff?"

  "That is the craziest thing, actually. They went quietly. A few cars ahead of me, there was some old couple who got out of their car and went with the police. The cops then had to drive their car off the road for people to pass. When I pulled up, they asked if I had been to a certain Walmart or Kroger in a nearby neighborhood, and after I told them I hadn't been to any grocery stores in the last few days, they said I could go through after collecting my info. It really was weird, but like kind of uneventful though."

   We all sat in silence for a beat. No one was sure of what to make of it. "Well, at least you're okay," Phil was the first to mention. "Let us know if anything else like that happens."

  "I feel like you might have to do the same for me soon," Lorenzo replied.

  "What do you mean?"

  "Well think about it. If they're checking everyone leaving Atlanta now, what do you think that means for the people still in the city?"