The iron door creaked violently as I tramped my way through it and down the steps to the basement. I looked at Rebecca, sitting cross-legged on the floor and tracing circles in the dust. A naked bulb made harsh highlights on her face.

“Kyle,” she whined, “I’m tired.”

I spoke as I distributed salvaged canned items into the cupboards. “Wanna go to bed? It’s nine, I think,” I said, looking at my watch that was stuck on eleven-fifteen.

“It feels like morning. Where’re mom and daddy?” she asked blearily.

I felt my insides go numb but the spaces behind my eyes burn. “You ask that question every day, Becca. They’re…away, right now.”

“Are they coming back?” she asked. As always.

But this time I couldn’t rein my emotions in. Every second I had taken to sustain virility in front of her was torn down as my mind broke down.

“They’re dead!” I screamed, hurling a can of green beans against the wall. Green liquid doused the stone. “Like everyone freaking else!”