San Francisco, California – Volume 1.9

OK. Five blocks down 22nd street, under the Freeway, and out to the commercial dock. Docks are usually locked fairly tight – chain link fences, walk ways etc. I get over the fence and try to find a ship that could offer protected shelter. Once I make sure the ship is clear – it’s a floating fort. Right? Uhm… Am I really asking and answering myself…

Gina sat up straighter on her sofa and drank the last of what she thought of as “free standing” water. This was the water from the tub and faucets that had filled as many containers as she had. She set the old 7-11 Slurpee cup down on the end table and looked out at the distant blue of the Pacific. Her drinking water was not lasting as long as she had thought. She had a little less than two cases of bottled water left. It would only last about a month or so at the current rate she figured.

She had watched the streets for days. She kept a tally of all the creatures she had seen. She did the statistical math about average per block. It meant nothing. Some days the streets were deserted then the next they were filled with the creatures.

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