A week passed before anything significant happened in the base. During that time, they saw more people change into monsters, though compared to the first day the numbers steadily dropped. By the fourth day, no new transformations occurred within the Safe Zone.
With so much idle time, the four had to find ways to keep busy. They could not spend every hour just staring out the window, so they fell into their own routines inside the room.
Nevin started exercising, partly to stay in shape and partly as a way to release the tension, and while the others sometimes joined him, he was the only one consistent about it.
Bryan took charge of their supplies, doing inventory and planning ahead for the coming days and weeks.
Iris handled the meals, cooking most of the time unless someone else stepped in just to break the routine.
Thomas was the idlest of them all, spending hours by the window, watching the streets and the people below. Thomas sometimes joined the others in their activities, whether it was Nevin's exercises, Bryan's planning, or even helping Iris with food. But most of the time, he sat by the window, quietly watching the streets below, as if waiting for something to change.
By the end of the week, the water was cut off, just as they had expected. They were ready for it, with plenty of stock stored in collapsible containers, but it still forced them to adjust their habits. Baths went from daily to every other day, taken in rotation, and the used bath water was saved for flushing toilets or cleaning the floors.
Every task inside the room was done quietly. Even on the sixteenth floor, they could not risk being heard or spotted by the growing crowd outside. The blinds never came off, and even the plants by the window were left in place as cover. When they observed the outside, they did so carefully, peeking through the leaves, past the blinds, and finally through the glass.
But no matter how careful they were, the four inside could not stop the force of nature. A few days after the first week, the building shook with a sudden tremor. At first, they thought it was an earthquake, until a deafening crash followed.
"BLAGGG!"
Half of the seventeenth floor gave way and collapsed into the sixteenth. Chunks of concrete and steel fell onto the street below, sending up a cloud of dust. The crowd outside rushed to the scene, and though no one was hurt, everyone saw what had happened.
Among them was a delivery guy who suddenly remembered something important. He had dropped off boxes of food at this very building not long ago. If he was right, those boxes were still in the basement. Supplies were already thinning, rations shrinking every day, and while people still had enough for now, it was only a matter of time before hunger became desperation.
There were convenience stores nearby, but all of them sat inside the pink fog. Anyone who tried to hoard from there rarely came back.
A temporary group was managing what little food remained, but the delivery guy could already see it would not hold. If people kept consuming and nothing was being added to the supply, chaos was only a matter of time.
So, he gathered others, some of them even part of the building's security, and laid out his plan to break into the building. But the moment they heard it, hesitation spread. For the security personnel especially, it was difficult. This was the building they had once worked in, and even in these times, breaking in felt wrong. On top of that, the anti-theft locks had been activated, and forcing their way through would not be easy.
In the next few days, the delivery guy's group followed through with their idea, not on Thomas's building but on others nearby, scavenging whatever they could find.
Inside their own base, Thomas, Nevin, and Bryan decided to check the upper floors. Their goal was to lighten the weight above them so the rest of the sixteenth floor would not give in. Any debris they cleared, they dumped onto the fifteenth floor. With the cafeteria already wrecked, a little more rubble there would not be noticed.
From the seventeenth floor, while working, they caught sight of the meteor lodged into the building. They could not get close to it since huge chunks of wall, beams, and collapsed supports blocked the way, but even from a distance its size was clear. The meteor was massive, about the size of a bus or even a small house, stuck deep into the building.
Bryan could not help but stare, his thoughts running in circles. By all rights, the impact should have leveled the entire building. Why had it not? The only explanation he could think of was the strange moment shown on the broadcast. Just before the fragments fell, they seemed to pause in mid-air, hanging there for a heartbeat, as if something had slowed them down. Even the scientists could not explain it.
A month passed since the meteor fall, and by now everyone had accepted that no help was coming. The government never appeared, or more accurately, no one ever made it out of the pink fog into the Safe Zone. Food rations that had once been handed out twice a day were cut to once, and the sense of sharing among survivors quickly faded. People began to hide whatever they found, especially if it was food.
Inside Thomas's base, they also made some adjustments. They cut back on Thomas's constant snacking, but aside from that and reducing baths, their routine stayed the same. They still ate three times a day, sometimes even with a snack in between. Their supplies were still strong, but Bryan insisted on tighter control. There was no telling how long they would need to stay in the building.
"What are we waiting for again?" Nevin asked as he stood with Thomas by the window.
"That red bridge to the south," Thomas said, pointing toward it. "We're waiting for it to collapse."
Nevin followed his finger and frowned. "That bridge looks sturdy. Isn't it made of steel and cables? Even inside the fog, how could it just collapse? I don't think anyone is even using it."
"Don't worry," Thomas said calmly. "Trust the vision. It hasn't been wrong so far. If it shows the bridge falling, then it will fall. We just don't know when, so we adjust and wait."
"We still have enough supplies for the next month, even if we don't cut back," Bryan added.
Before anyone could respond, Thomas suddenly leaned forward. "They're coming in!"
"What?!" The three rushed to the window to see what he meant.
From the sixteenth floor, Thomas and the others watched a group gather below. At the front was the delivery truck driver, flanked by several of the building's former security guards. They carried hammers, crowbars, saws, and steel pipes. With no electricity left in the Safe Zone, power tools were useless.
"Is this part of your vision?" Nevin asked quietly.
"No," Thomas said, eyes narrowing, "but we made preparations. We're fine, right?" He glanced at Bryan.
"Yes," Bryan answered firmly. "Securing the base was part of our survival plan. We're ready."
It took time, but eventually the group below pried open a small hole big enough for a person to squeeze through. Once inside, they rushed to the basement, flashlights sweeping across rows of parked company cars and delivery trucks. The driver ignored them, heading straight for a storage room he remembered.
"They're still here!" he shouted, pointing to a stack of sealed boxes.
Excitement rippled through the group. A security guard helped him drag one into the open. "Are these the ones?"
"Yes, yes! Inside should be…" The driver ripped the tape off and froze. "Clothes??"
The box was filled with folded shirts.
He tore into another. Then another. Soon everyone was helping, cutting open boxes, cardboard scattered across the floor. All of them contained the same thing, clothes.
One of the guards finally spoke. "I didn't want to say earlier, but I was the one who received that shipment. They told me it was clothing, and it matches what I signed off."
The driver shook his head in disbelief. "No… I saw them loading boxes of food."
"Maybe you saw different boxes. Or maybe the food never made it to your truck," another man suggested.
Doubt gnawed at the driver. Was his memory wrong?
"Whatever," someone muttered, holding up a shirt. "Clothes are still useful. We may not bathe, but at least we can change."
Another pointed toward the parked trucks. "What about those? If this was a food company, maybe they stored something inside."
They broke into each truck, one after another. Most were empty, some held nothing but folded cardboard. Finally, they reached an old delivery truck parked in the corner.
"That one?" someone asked.
"It's been broken for months," a guard said. "No wheels. I doubt there's anything inside."
Still, curiosity won. They forced open the back. The beam of a flashlight revealed stacks of plastic pipes, random materials, and more folded boxes. No food. With a grunt, the man shut the door.
Frustration simmered. Silence lingered. Then the delivery driver's voice cut through the air.
"If it's not here, then we check the building. Floor by floor."