In the blackness Karin awakened: Not as others had, summoned to alertness by the failure of the lights, or by the concierge’s service-minded banging at the door. It was the smell that roused her from her seat, a scent like the aftermath of lightning, electricity ripping open the skies.
She had been napping. Work had gone smoothly – only a single, minor stabbing, one overdose, and a handful of car wrecks – and Karin had been left with enough energy to spend the rest of the day on herself. She had run through the thick sand of the beach until her calves felt fit to burst, come away from jiu jitsu with a wealth of fresh bruises and happily tousled hair, and washed all that mess away with an hour’s set of laps in the apartment’s sizable pool. She had been exhausted in the most perfect, fulfilling of senses. And now she was terribly, violently awake.
For a moment she feared her apartment was ablaze, though reason soon took hold and curbed that baseless concern. Her brow furrowed as confusion settled deeply over her. Forcing such helplessness aside she resolved to find the source of this problem, to handle it, if need be. She reached out to her end table, feeling around in its shallow drawer. Her fumbling fingers found matches, but no flashlight; she cursed herself for her carelessness, rising from her couch. With slow, deliberate steps she made her way to the door, toeing on a pair of flip-flops. She heard voices down the hall, muffled, but carrying from the lobby beyond. Had there been a fire?
She checked her pocket, reassuring herself of her cell phone’s presence, wondering if she should call Fiona or simply scour the lobby for her. Her jaw clenched, teeth grinding as she plucked her keys from their rack, locking the door behind her as she sought the solace – and perhaps the insight – of the gathering crowd.