4
This time, I didn't have a nightmare.
In a daze, it seemed like someone was sitting by my bedside.
She was flipping through a book, slowly telling me a story: "The geese start flying south, and the leaves begin to turn yellow, but the sun remains warm as always."
I couldn't see her face clearly, but I had a feeling she was as kind as my grandmother.
"If you start to feel happy because of the warmth, it means the weather is getting colder little by little."
She turned a page, her figure bathed in the dim yellow light.
"The hunter in the forest must trust their instincts, or they'll miss many hints from nature."
"When the heavy snow blocks the door, it'll be too late."
---
November 18th, 7:53 AM.
The 14th hour of the lockdown.
I was lying in bed, daydreaming when I got a call from the grocery store.
They asked when it would be convenient for me to receive my delivery today.
Living in an apartment building, it would be almost impossible to bring in all these supplies without being noticed.
I had considered picking them up in batches.
But given the rapid spread of this outbreak, if plans couldn't keep up with changes, all these supplies would be for nothing.
Sometimes, striving for meticulous perfection can backfire.
"Ten o'clock," I said.
At this time, many people would be at work or school, so I could avoid some attention. Checking the logistics information, most of my orders were out for delivery.
Only the bottled water I ordered last night hadn't been picked up yet.
For the rest of the day, packages arrived one after another.
I moved them inside only after disinfecting them with alcohol.
I stored all fifty bottles of mineral water from the grocery store in the second bedroom. Ten bottles per row, stacked three high, in two rows.
Against the water bottles, I placed two rows of two-meter-long shelves.
I did the same in the living room and master bedroom, placing a row of shelves against two walls.
The second bedroom faced north, and the temperature was lower there.
I used this room to store foods with shorter shelf lives.
Canned goods, instant noodles, and compressed dry food were stored in the master bedroom and living room.
By the time I had sorted all the supplies into storage boxes, it was already five in the afternoon.
The solar panels were smaller than I had imagined, about a meter long and half a meter wide. I received eight panels.
There were also four 250ah batteries, capable of storing about 12 kWh of electricity.
I tried setting up the panels; the retractable clothesline on the balcony could fit five panels side by side.
In good weather, I estimated they could generate about 7 kWh a day.
I fiddled with the wiring to get everything connected.
As for the remaining three panels, I'd figure out how to install them later.
The next day, the neighbourhood implemented strict lockdown measures.
I had stocked up on essential supplies just before the lockdown countdown hit zero.
I felt more fear than relief.
The shift from relatively mild policies a few days ago to a full lockdown in less than 72 hours was swift.
All drinking water in the city was requisitioned as strategic pandemic supplies.
My online orders were cancelled.
The water shortage issue remained unresolved, and it was only a matter of time before District J was affected.
I took out and cleaned the water storage barrels.
Each barrel was about 1.5 meters high.
After filling them with a hose, I placed two on the south balcony and one on the north balcony.
I checked the controller again.
So far, the solar panels had generated less than 2 kWh of electricity.
There was no sun today, which significantly impacted the power output.
Autumn and winter in Springfield are mostly cloudy, with few sunny days and even less rain.
Water and electricity were likely to be my biggest challenges for now.
I called my parents last night.
I repeatedly urged them to stock up on food and avoid going out or visiting relatives. Even though they lived far away in Greenfield, it's better to be cautious.
I pulled myself together and decided to quickly process the agricultural products on the balcony and in the kitchen.
The two sacks of potatoes probably weighed around 100 pounds.
I washed, peeled, and soaked them in light saltwater before vacuum-packing them.
The TV in the living room was on.
Almost every channel was broadcasting updates on Springfield's outbreak.
The stringent policies were not as effective as expected, and multiple new outbreaks had emerged within the city.
This time, someone had captured footage of the outbreaks in a neighbourhood.
The images quickly spread online.
In the footage, two workers in protective suits were standing at a checkpoint by the neighbourhood entrance.
But soon, one of them, slightly taller, suddenly lunged at his colleague. The video cut off there.
However, both soon appeared in an apology video, claiming that work stress had led to their conflict.
This reminded me of recent news.
Recently, violent incidents in Springfield had surged, severely impacting public safety. Everyone seemed to have become extremely irritable and quick to anger.
While browsing the comments, a message from a healthcare worker caught my attention. "Our hospital hasn't admitted any patients with unknown pneumonia," she said. "Instead, the surgical wards are unusually full."
What's more, her hospital had already issued a closure notice.
According to the latest regulations, only one hospital was to remain open in each administrative area.
For Springfield, which was already at a critical point, this was unimaginable.
"Unless," someone replied, "unless current medical methods are completely ineffective."
Feeling increasingly heavy-hearted,
I put down my phone and continued working.
Time passed quickly with this repetitive labour.
In the evening, it started drizzling outside.
Through the window, I could barely see anyone in the neighbourhood, just a few fully armed personnel distributing supplies.
Finally, in the early hours, I finished processing all the fruits and vegetables, stacking them in the second bedroom like a mountain.
Because I had maintained the same posture for so long, my neck was nearly stiff...