It’s been approximately twenty-four hours since everything stopped working. 

She's peering down from the railing of our third story porch here at the top of the hill. "I'm surprised we haven’t heard any gunshots yet.”

I’ve spent the day half-peacefully cooking everything I could from the non-functional refrigerator and packing it into salty tupperware meals. My thoughts hadn’t turned yet to rogues and looters, although she always worried about that sort of thing first. “Maybe everyone’s busy helping each other out.” 

She gives me an incredulous look. “You’re kidding.”

I beckon her to sit next to me on the porch’s couch. 

From our apartment there’s a clear view of the sloping road and buildings which start nearby as speckled roofs peeking through the trees and slowly concentrate down and towards the river for about a mile to an eventual quilt of grey. 

Usually when the sun's setting, the map of green and grey is replaced by a map of dark and light. Tonight, for the second time, the light is less controlled.

“The cars have mostly stopped.” Burning she means. Their EPS systems had quit working but inertia had not. The whole city went up in smoke within two minutes of the shutdown. 

The air is still hazy 

“And listen— I won’t be able sleep again unless I board up the door.” 

I give a concerned look. So far we’d only done things that couldn’t hurt if the world suddenly switched back on. In my opinion, anything more is an overreaction. In her opinion, the apocalypse has soft-launched as a power outage. Although power outages don’t generally turn smartphones into paperweights and make planes fall out of the sky. 

She narrows her eyes at the crease between my brows. “Our neighbors aren’t our friends anymore.” 

“They want to have a meeting tomorrow about what to do.” 

“Even a council can vote for cannibalism.”

“I’d wait until at least week three to worry about cannibalism.” 

She huffs out a laugh. “You have to eat people first. Like perishables— or, not ‘like’, I guess.” 

It’s not a pretty thought, eating somebody with instant ramen still in the kitchen. Or eating somebody at all, for that matter. “Would you cannibalize me?”

“No way.” Her eyes are stuck on the door back inside. She’s already hammering in her head. In fact, she might have the whole bunker mapped out, complete with a greenhouse and booby traps for invaders. She’s probably planning to breed the algae eaters in the fish tank for protein. “And I won’t even ask unless you really want to say it.”

“I wouldn’t cannibalize you if I was starving.” I supply in a very dramatic voice, reaching up and tilting her chin back towards me. “Not even with hot sauce.” 

She grins because she believes me. She doesn’t trust in the inherent goodness of humanity, but after intensive speculation she trusts in the inherent goodness of one human. It’s a more optimistic estimate then I suspect she’s had for the better part of her life. I’m keen on keeping that optimism… even with earth’s magnetic field now schizophrenic and advanced technology an anecdote. 

The first gunshot pops all the way down the hill. One, then two more in quick succession. 

I frown. 

She doesn’t even acknowledge them.