The rush was rough, persisting through several grueling hours where no one could eat, drink, pee, or even breathe. Weekends were always busier than weekdays, as if every person in town worked them instead of a normal nine-to-five, Monday to Friday. 

Once the last car and person of each respective line left, everyone released a collective sigh of relief.

“Hey, boss,” Ryan, one of the part-time weekenders, said, “I finished the dishes. I’m off now. See ya tomorrow!”

Lyric smiled, waving as he stepped out the front door. 

“It never gets easier,” the assistant manager, Charlise, groaned as she walked up to Lyric. “May I use the restroom now? I’ve been holding it for hours.”

“Oh, as if you’re the only one,” Lyric joked, though she had partly meant the mild jab. If she let herself think about it, she might’ve pissed her pants right then and there, but there was only one bathroom, and Charlise had just claimed it. 

Charlise presented her best faux frown. “Funny,” she said, exaggerating the narrowing of her chocolate-colored eyes as she smoothed back a stray strand of glossy midnight hair. “You’re welcome to go after me.”

“How kind of you,” Lyric chuckled. She remembered a time when they did not get along. Charlise had grown disillusioned after the fifth manager walked out, and when Lyric, a seemingly bright-eyed new hire several years younger than the jaded coffee veteran, walked into the café on her very first day, Charlise was far from welcoming. Trapped in what had become a revolving door of managers, it was clear she hadn’t expected Lyric to last. Day by day, however, Lyric proved herself to be a strong, competent leader and worker. Naturally, Charlise’s initial opinion began to change, and they had begun to form a tentative relationship that eventually blossomed into a powerful alliance. 

As Lyric shooed Charlise away, she sensed another presence scampering up from behind, bringing along with it a palpable buzz of energy. 

“I’m almost off!” Kira announced excitedly. Not only was she the newest addition by a couple years, she was also, coincidentally, the youngest, around the same age as Patrice’s daughter. “What side job did you need me to do before I left?”

“Go ahead and clean the lobby. We had so many customers come inside today, it was crazy,” Lyric sighed, though she managed a tired smile for Kira.

The young girl nodded, a dreamy expression floating across her face. “And one of them was my husband, Dr. Voss,” she swooned. 

“Husband?” Lyric snorted. “I don’t remember getting an invite to the wedding.”

Kira sighed softly. “Well, future husband, I should say. He hasn’t asked me to marry him. Yet.”

“You might have to speak with him first for that to happen,” the barista jested. “You know, besides ‘Good morning’ or ‘Here’s your coffee.’” She tacked on a little chuckle to further emphasize her playfulness. “I keep offering to switch you every time he comes—”

“No way!” Kira exclaimed, cupping her cheeks as her thick, dark lashes fluttered in embarrassment.  “I told you, it would be sooo obvious if we switched randomly, especially in the middle of the rush! I’m fine with the occasional times I naturally end up helping him. For now, it’s enough.”

“Why don’t you take the direct approach and just ask him out? With words? He comes in literally every day, so he should know who you are by now,” Lyric suggested, attempting to hype her up, though she wasn’t entirely sure if the doctor even knew who any of them actually were. “You never know…”

“Oh, God,” Kira groaned loudly, rubbing her face dramatically. “I could never! If he rejects me, it would make everything so awkward afterward. And besides, he’s so much older than I am. There’s no way he would ever be interested… right?”

Lyric managed another small laugh, but she had no idea how spot-on she was. If the conversation with Patrice earlier told her anything, it was that he didn’t seem interested in anyone under twenty-six. Or something like that. 

“It couldn’t hurt to try. You never know,” Lyric finished teasingly. “Now, let’s get those bathrooms done, so you can get out of here. I know you want to go home.”

“You got it, girl.” 

Kira saluted before running off to collect the cleaning supplies just as Charlise returned from the bathroom.

“Hey,” she called, concern plastered all over her face. “Something’s going on out there.”

“What do you mean?” Lyric asked, her smile dissolving instantly. Since the bathrooms were located in an alcove in the lobby, Charlise passed the ceiling-to-floor windows that comprised the majority of the lobby walls. They displayed an unobstructed view of the main road that ran through the heart of the town like a vein, upon which all the local businesses had been built along. 

“Don’t you hear that? Sounds like people screaming and shouting,” Charlise relayed anxiously, cautiously moving toward the front of the store for a better look. “Look! There’s so much smoke. Maybe a fire nearby? I wonder what caught fire. I hope everyone’s okay…”

“Where?” Lyric questioned, a tightness forming in her chest as she, too, inched her way toward the front. Charlise was still rambling nervously next to her, though Lyric could hardly hear a word. Her heart had begun to pound violently, ringing in her ears and drowning out everything else. She could sense the urgency in the atmosphere as it rapidly seeped into her pores. 

“Someone probably already called it in, right? Right?” Her insistence prodded Lyric from her thoughts and she cast a sidelong glance at her assistant. Charlise leaned into the window, the tip of her nose grazing the glass as her eyes darted from side-to-side. 

They saw people standing outside, squinting at the sky and pointing while others took out their phones, a mixture of recording and calling. 

“Although, I haven't heard or seen any sirens yet…” Charlise trailed off, angling her face as she peeked toward the massive cloud of ashy smoke. At this point, Lyric could smell the fire, the acrid stench growing stronger each minute as it gradually penetrated the café walls.  

Her anxiety and curiosity getting the better of her, Lyric took a deep breath, gathering the courage to go outside for a better look. She squared her shoulders and subsequently pushed the front door open before she lost her nerve. As she stepped outside into the hot summer sun, she felt the solid imprint of her concealed carry firearm hidden beneath her work jacket, attached to the right side of her hips. The hard metal through the fabric was reassuring, especially in times like this when things felt uncertain. 

“What are you doing?” Charlise hissed. Lyric ignored her; otherwise, she’d lose the courage she’d barely scraped together. 

There was a dull hum in the air mixed with the agitated chatter of the bystanders. But what Lyric noticed, above all, was the unmistakable lack of sirens. The fire department and sheriff’s office were close enough that they should’ve heard the blare of sirens by now, yet all they were left with was a sense of silent foreboding. 

Were they somehow running behind? Or perhaps, no one had actually called it in yet, assuming, like they had, the someone else already had. 

Lyric scanned the sidewalk and street, the few cars on the road moving slowly as bystanders on the sidewalks stopped and stared at a giant plume of smoke filling the heavens. It seemed to originate in the direction of MedPark, a gathering of all the medical-related buildings in town, including the humble, little hospital Dr. Voss worked at. A strange sensation swirled in her stomach slowly, but she wasn’t even sure herself what she was feeling. All she knew was that it was dark and getting heavier with each dreadful second. 

“Hey.” Lyric walked up to one of the nearest spectators. “Do you know what’s going on?”

The grandpa in the cowboy hat shook his head. “No idea, but lines are dead. We’ve been tryin’ to call emergency services with no luck, so a few people decided to walk down to the sheriff’s and fire department in person. Hopefully, it don’t take too long. Fire looks damn big.”

Lyric looked around once more, noticing for the first time the alarm and irritation in the voices of those who were on the phone. Others were cursing up a storm or even crying, futilely raising their phones in the air, as if that would somehow fix the lack of service. 

She opened her mouth, quietly commenting, “It looks like there really is no serv—”

A pitchy shriek sliced through the thick air. 

It sounded so close, yet echoed in a way that made it feel distant. Murmurs rippled through the crowd as everyone glanced around curiously, nervously. Had that also come from MedPark?

“What was that?” Charlise asked, communicating with Lyric through the walkie-talkie capability of their drive thru headsets. “What’s going on, Lyric?”

Lyric pressed the button on her headset, holding it firmly as she replied. “No one seems to know. And no one can get a hold of emergency services because the phone lines are down.”

“Wha–” Charlise cut off suddenly. 

“Hello?” Lyric nervously called into the headset. “Charlise?”

No answer.

Lyric pulled the headset off her head, checking to see if the battery might have died or something, but everything was working just fine. She called for Charlise over the system one more time and was met with the same silence. Worried, Lyric half-sprinted back to the store, flying through the front door as her frantic gaze took in the scene inside.

Charlise was on her phone, hysteria rising in her voice as she pleaded with it to work. “Let me— Let’s try one more time,” she said to herself, putting the call on speaker, as if that would somehow change the outcome. Unfortunately, the result was immediate: low, consecutive beeps and a dishearteningly familiar screen indicating a failed call. Charlise tried again–and again and again–panic rapidly overwhelming her as she started to tear up.

“Hey.” Lyric approached her, gently placing a hand on Charlise’s shoulder in an attempt to ground her. “The guy outside did say the lines were down. It’s probably temporary. People went to inform the sheriff in person, so everything will be fine.”

“I tried calling my mom.” Kira walked into the lobby, approaching the two women with fear etched all over her face. “Then, I tried calling the store phone. Just to test it, you know? It looks like phone lines are completely down, not just nine-one-one.”

Lyric really wished Kira hadn’t said that just now, not with Charlise in the state she was in. Charlise’s hands trembled terribly as she lowered her phone, finally giving up. She stared unseeingly at the ground, falling into a dissociative state as silent tears slid down her cheeks. Lyric pressed her lips together, frustration bubbling within. Charlise had never been good with stressful situations, and she seemed to be taking this one particularly hard since it was impossible to call for help. Lyric took a deep breath, trying to remain composed. It wasn’t as if they were in any immediate danger, but being unable to call for help didn’t improve the situation one bit.

“Hey, let’s take a seat.” Lyric gently put her hands on Charlise’s shoulders, guiding the woman to one of the dining tables in the lobby. Lyric opened her mouth to say more, but a surge of commotion right outside the store cut her off. Everyone glanced toward the entrance and windows, drawn by the pandemonium. The crowd that had collected began to disperse, people beginning to run and scream. Charlise tensed, momentarily freed from her trance, while Kira ran toward the door. She pressed her palms against the large window as she anxiously scanned the street. Lyric waited tensely, clutching the edge of Charlise’s table as she waited for Kira’s report.

“Kira,” Lyric called when the girl communicated nothing. “What do you see?”

“People are running, but I can’t see what they’re running from,” Kira answered slowly, her exhalations creating a circle of fog on the glass as her breaths deepened. “Wait…”

“What?” Charlise squeaked. “What do you see?”

“Some people look hurt. Like, really hurt,” Kira explained. “Is that– Oh, I think that’s blood!”

“What?” Charlise repeated again, her voice increasing an octave. “Blood?”

“A lot of people are covered in blood. They’re running after the others. Maybe they need help?” Kira murmured. “They’re really, really fast. Oh, my God. That guy’s missing an arm. Oh! That lady’s neck is–”

“Stay away from the window, Kira. I’m going to lock the doors, just to be safe.” Lyric beckoned the young girl toward her. “Come here.”

“They’re coming this way!” Kira exclaimed, pointing frantically. “I think they need help.”

“No–!”

It was too late. Kira pushed the door open.