I is for Ian

“That sounds like a great idea,” Ian said. “Let’s grab some flashlights and head down there.”

“Alright,” I said, trying not to smile at him though it was getting a lot more difficult, “come on.”

22

IAN

“I think we might need less bacon and more, you know, food.”

“Bacon is food.”

“Look, I’m already trying to survive a snowpocolypse and will likely have to explain why I stole food from the cafeteria in the first place. I would really rather not add clogging my arteries to the list.”

I stopped and looked her up and down for a moment.

“I think you’ll be fine.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” she asked.

“I’m just saying that you can eat some bacon.” I sighed. “Why do women do that? Why is everything an insult?”

“Why do guys always have to prove how big their dick is about everything?” she quipped back.

“Fair. Hey, look at this.”

I had pulled down a box from inside the still-frozen freezer. The electricity might not be working in the kitchen, but the freezer had been shut, and it was as cold in there as it was outside, if not colder.

“What is it?”

“It’s chicken breasts,” I said. “Pounds of it, it looks like. We could cook a bunch of these up, and then we’d only have to warm them up or eat them cold if the generator goes out.”

“Bring them,” she said, moving the flashlight along the shelves in the freezer. It was dark as hell in there, but the emergency lanterns and flashlights we found illuminated everything. “I can cook up a bunch of pasta and make some meals that would be good cold. Are those steaks?”

“Holy shit,” I said, unable to believe our luck.

Tucked away in a corner of the freezer were four nice-sized rib eye steaks. They didn’t look like the kind of meals set aside for patients. A closer look verified that when I saw initials on the back.

“D-R-B-S,” she said. “Dr. Bruce Sutton?”

“That’s my guess. He probably keeps them here in deep freeze. Wasn’t there a box of potatoes outside?”

“I think so. Are we going to do a fancy-shmancy meal tonight?”

“I mean, once the generator goes out, all this stuff goes bad, right? So, all we’re doing is using it before it goes south,” I said. “Or am I just talking myself into feeling okay about stealing a rib eye?”

“Well, yes,” she said. “But also, you’re right. Once the other generator goes off, everything in here will warm up and go bad eventually. Speaking of, how long do you think we have again?”

“If it’s just the one emergency generator? Another day or two? We need to do some cooking now if we’re going to have enough to get us by.”

“Alright, bring them. We will have them tonight.”

“Fantastic,” I said, almost giddy. “I haven’t sat down with a good steak in a while.”

“I didn’t say it would be good,” she said. “I don’t know if we have any rosemary or fresh garlic.”

“Steak is steak. So long as you don’t cook it well-done.”

“Oh, you’re one of those guys who’s picky about how much pink is in the center, aren’t you?” she asked.

“By that do you mean that I like my steak to have flavor? Then yes,” I said. “How about this. You cook the potatoes and start working on the pasta and chicken and all that, and I’ll make the steaks. I promise, it’ll be some of the best steak you’ve ever had.”

“Really now?” she asked, her eyebrow cocked. “I have to see that.”

“Good. Then it’s a deal.”

“Come on,” she said, rolling her eyes. She was actually smiling. I felt like I’d won the lottery.

“After you,” I said.

She turned to the door and pushed. It didn’t move.

“Uh-oh,” she said.

“Uh-oh? Uh-oh? Don’t tell me,” I began.

“Hang on,” she said.

She smashed a button on the side of the wall by the door, and the door popped open. I threw my head back in relief.

“You thought I locked us in here?” she asked.

“Yes,” I said.

I didn’t bother elaborating any further.

“Let’s get out of here,” she said. “It’s freaking cold.”

We grabbed a few more items in the kitchen area, grabbing knives at the last second when I realized I had no way of actually cutting anything without them. I realized how it might look, a strange man suddenly grabbing a large kitchen knife at the last second, and paused, staring at her with a goofy grin.

“Uhh… do you want to keep it with you?” I asked.

“No, it’s fine,” she said. “Just… don’t stab me, alright?”

“No stabbing. Got it. Here, I’ll put it in this bag.”

I slipped it inside one of the duffels we had with us, which I assumed was hers. I piled some bread on top of it, and we continued on our way. As we made it almost to the staircase, her light went out, and I ended up running full force into her. Our legs tangled, and as I reached for anything to keep me upright, I found only air and fell on my back.