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Hampshire.
    “Rock and roll.”  He said aloud.  His
white teeth reflected the moonlight as he grinned.
     

9
     
    When the Dixon brothers hung up the
phone on what would be their last call, Paul was in mourning. His house was in
a small subdivision setback from the road and away from busy streets.  His
location provided the advantage of being in a populous area, Cincinnati, while
remote enough that it would be overlooked.  He was in essence hiding in plain
sight, and faced no danger of being found or captured.
    Cincinnati, Ohio’s population was just
over one million people.  Like many Midwestern cities, it did not have a
natural border such as a large lake or ocean.  It sprawled in all directions. 
Some might argue the Ohio river presented a boundary as it ran along the
southern border of the city, but in reality, the river posed only a state
change to Kentucky.  People who worked in Cincinnati commuted across state
lines.  The million plus population of Cincinnati lived over hundreds of square
miles, multiple counties, and dozens upon dozens of towns.  Without a
centralized population to patrol or contain, the government was helpless with
regards to looting, rioting, and unrest, and was toothless implementing any
plan to capture the population.  As Cincinnati burned, Paul lived safely in the
house he and Rachel shared for the last ten years.
    He ate, listened to the radio, and
read books while he waited for everyone to die.  If Cincinnati’s  timeline was
consistent with other major cities on the coasts, Paul would be safe and alone by
the end of October.  He would begin looking for survivors in November or
December.
    Paul was a packrat.  Rachel kept
him honest, making him part with broken items, but Paul’s basement held things
from his graduate school and bachelor years.  He found his old hotplate and an
electric tea kettle, both of which would work off his solar panel back-up
generator.  His inability to dispose of bachelor days provided a way to boil
water and cook food.
    He owned an additional handheld
solar charger for small electronics, and a solar shower if he needed to get
clean.  Paul and Rachel enjoyed hiking, and utilized solar technology when
possible.  They were not environmentalists per se, rather outdoor enthusiasts
who wanted fully charged cell phones while on the trail. 
    Paul’s life was boring, safe, and offered
a few conveniences when the sun shined.
    He and Rachel, though a household
of two, shopped at warehouse clubs.  They typically had a few months’ of food
stored around the house.  He had a 25lb bag of rice and a 10lb bag of dried
beans.  He had pasta in all shapes and sizes, and he had 30 or more cans of
tuna fish.  He and Rachel were athletic, power bars and gels were abundant. 
Without scavenging at other homes, which he intended to do, Paul had several
months of food, perhaps half a year, if he rationed. 
    The first month of Paul’s solitude was
stressful.  Paul listened to the radio as newscasters relayed panic and hysteria,
the death tolls in the East, the devastation on the other continents, and the
100% contagion and mortality rate of the rapture.  Scientists and doctors spoke
about not having enough time to figure out the disease.  After the first month,
the radio broadcasters were gone, replaced by a government loop message “Survivors
should come to government shelters.  If you are not sick, seek help
immediately.  Food and water will be provided.” 
    Each day Paul sat on his deck and
debated going to a shelter.  Some days he would get into his car or jump on his
bike, but he never made the trip.  Paul was not sure if the shelters were a
trick to round up healthy people and use them as guinea pigs, or if the
invitation was sincere.  The swiftness of the rapture made Paul’s decision for
him.  Everyone died before he could turn himself into the authorities. 
    Paul stayed in his house, bored,
whittling away the time reading or staying in