Start Preparing for the Unknown

2

It had only been a few days since Singles' Day, and I had just restocked on household supplies.

I sat in front of my computer, browsing through product pages.

A few years ago, a pandemic swept across the world.

However, as time went on, the virus became milder. So far, it had reached a point where it coexisted with humanity to some extent.

For ordinary citizens like me, who had been wrestling with the virus for a long time, localized outbreaks had become routine.

I found my order history and casually added some snacks, instant noodles, and sausages to my cart.

"Ding ding ding," a message from Amazon popped up quickly.

"Sorry, but all deliveries to and through Springfield are currently suspended."

I was stunned and wanted to ask more, but the customer service representative had already posted announcements from major courier companies.

It clearly stated that from November 16th, which was yesterday, all delivery services to Springfield were suspended.

What's going on?

Is the city going to be locked down?

I had a nagging feeling that something was off.

Even if there was a resurgence of the virus, events usually unfolded step by step.

There was no relevant information, no news reports about an unknown virus... How could they just lock down an entire city?

---

November 17th, 12:37 PM.

I began to feel a heavier sense of dread about the future: the government didn't seem to be implementing typical pandemic measures, and I needed to prepare quickly.

Filtering stores by local shipping, I started to carefully select items.

Self-heating rice meals.

Packaged instant noodles.

And also compressed biscuits.

The variety of individual self-heating meals was more than I expected, and the flavours seemed decent.

Two servings per pack, twelve packs per box—I stocked up on ten boxes.

Adding all orders with cash-on-delivery, I pulled out a mask from my drawer and prepared to head out.

The nearest grocery store was about a mile from my home.

I planned to buy some fresh produce.

November's weather was already chilly.

The fallen leaves of the sycamore trees on the street hadn't been swept up, crunching underfoot.

From a distance, I saw a mineral water station surrounded by people.

The staff were busy loading water into the long line of private cars.

"What's going on?" someone asked the store owner standing nearby.

"Q district's water supply is cut off. They're relying on drinking water for now. The water station's reserves aren't enough."

"Water cut off? I haven't heard anything about that."

The owner shrugged, "Not just a water cut-off. I heard there's going to be a power cut in a few days too. My friend in the solar business says his orders have tripled recently."

My heart sank.

This was not good news.

From the owner's tone, it seemed Q district had been without water for a while.

Water and electricity are basic necessities.

Allowing such a large-scale water and power cut was unimaginable.

Was this also because of the pandemic...?

It didn't make sense...

It looked like Springfield was really in for some trouble.

I changed my plan on the spot.

Instead of heading directly to the grocery store, I detoured to a nearby farmers' market. It was a weekday, and the market was deserted at this hour.

I pulled out the list I had just organized on my phone, which included about ten types of storable vegetables.

There were potatoes, corn, and cruciferous vegetables like broccoli and cabbage. According to online sources, these vegetables, if handled properly, could last for months.

After visiting a few stalls, I bought two sacks of potatoes, one sack of corn.

And several crates of broccoli, cabbage, and napa cabbage.

I placed an order for a medium-sized delivery van on my phone, estimating it would arrive shortly.

Conveniently, there was a hardware store right across the street, so I went in for a look.

I bought three person-high water storage barrels with lids and spouts.

A PVC hose.

Three rolls of duct tape.

Four solid ABS pipes.

Two sheets of transparent rainproof tarpaulin.

A hot glue gun and several boxes of glue sticks.

And a household toolbox.

While I was browsing the hardware store, the delivery driver had already arrived.

There were quite a few items, and we made several trips back and forth.

Once in the car, we headed straight to the grocery store.

The sky was gradually darkening, and it was rushing hour.

Since I didn't live in the city centre, the traffic wasn't too bad.

The store had plenty of bottled water for sale.

After much deliberation, I finally bit the bullet and bought fifty bottles.

I also bought several boxes of wet wipes and disinfectants.

Some snacks and drinks, and three thermoses.

Additionally, I bought a vacuum sealer and several boxes of vacuum bags.

I left my phone number and address with the staff, who promised to deliver everything to my doorstep the next day.

As I was walking out, I noticed the entrance to the mall was packed with people.

The street, which had been empty a moment ago, was now filled with parked cars.

In the chaos, a conflict seemed to have erupted.

Amid the screams, I saw two men fighting, fists flying with no mercy.

I pushed through the crowd and jumped into the delivery van.

"Drive, quickly."

I fastened my seatbelt and urged the driver.

My phone was buzzing nonstop in my pocket.

When I checked it, the group chats on WhatsApp were all frantically updating.

I clicked on one of the links.

The page redirected to Twitter.

"Springfield" was trending on the top.