Lock Out

All four locks to the front door were dead bolted. Normally there was just one master lock. Iryna had the master lock key. She jammed her key into each lock. She twisted. Nothing. Her city was setting into an ocean of darkness that turned more abyssal with each radio report and each young family running towards the subway and each patrol of gunmen who just yesterday worked on computers or taught the youth or bagged groceries. Iryna sighed. She slumped against the front door.

A whisper came from the sky. Iryna turned to catch the last glimpse of a rocket in flight. Then only darkness saved her. Nothingness replaced the horror of a building blasted open with upholstery and glass and wallpaper filling the evening sky while the discrete scent of blood and gas trickled through the block.

Iryna opened her eyes. She was not in the street by her apartment. It was dark. Too dark for the open Kyiv sky. A light flickered on. She was delivered to the underground.