The Queue
When the lights went out the flatmates responded in a practised way: Sadie carefully walked over to the dining table in the dark, found the camping light and switched it on. Bill picked up the bag of head torches by the side of the sofa and gave them out and all four put them on their head ready for navigating around their second floor London flat. Turned off for now, no reason to use up batteries until they had to.
They then gathered around the table where Pandemic Legacy was setup, to resume this long running game. It had been a Christmas present to Eve, and had gathered a lot of dust on her bedroom shelf until the first power cut two months ago. That power cut had started in the evening, while the summer sun was still high enough to allow them to hunt for candles in case it continued into the night, so they could conserve their phones. Since then they had been able to buy the camping light (solar and mains rechargeable) and head torches despite the demand-based spike in prices and low supplies.
When the power cuts got more frequent, and longer, they had to find something to occupy their minds during the dark evenings. That is when Eve’s persistence finally persuaded the others to try out the game. Even Victor, who was adamant that board games are for children, was worn down as that day was the first time the phone networks were also taken down by the power cut in their area, so he wasn’t able to stream anything.
Now they were all invested. Not enough to play while the electricity was on, as that was the time to take advantage of the full range of entertainment available, but it gave a silver lining to when their regular entertainment was cut off. They had something to focus on, argue about, make decisions on and enjoy or lament the consequences. It had helped stop the endless speculation and worrying in circles about questions that no one could answer.
After a few hours of delivering vaccines and containing disease breakouts, they called it a night. Each went to sleep to the background noise of the city at night: some rowdy singing as the pub down the street kicked out those regulars who had stayed for a lock-in when the power went out, some sirens from emergency services, but no rumbling of trains.
Around 6am the next morning they were woken abruptly by the emergency alert siren on their phones, sounding through the flat at different times across a space of 5 minutes (and from phones in the flat below as well). The alert read: “Do not drink the tap water in these areas, or use for cooking, due to possible contamination. Visit this website for details of where you can collect drinking water in your local area.” Plus a list of postcode areas, including theirs, and the website address.
That was new. Fortunately, they had been organised and had stockpiled bottled water after the first two power cuts, plus tinned food that didn’t need cooking. But Sadie thought of their landlady Deborah, a woman in her 80s who lived on the ground floor flat. They had sorted her out with another camping light after the first blackout, but hadn’t thought to stockpile for her.
And so two hours later the four of them, plus a camping trolley with four 10 litre collapsible water containers (part of their panic buying after the first blackout, but never filled as they were able to get the bottled water) headed on foot to the nearest water supply post listed on the website. They had given Deborah some of their bottled water in the meantime.
The supply post was set up by the army, two large tankers hooked up to a system that allowed 10 containers to be filled at once. Even so, the end of the queue was about 200 metres away from the post and was moving slowly.
Despite the water company’s website advising that the contamination was due to their backup generators not starting properly during the power cut meaning some of the processing equipment didn’t run, rumours were spreading up and down the line about sabotage and terrorism. The fear in the city had been building for months and could be seen in the tense faces around them. The power cuts had started due to a spike in solar flares that caused a surge in the UK electricity grid, and caused a few key nodes in the network (substations, or something like that) to overload. This meant routing the network through secondary nodes until those key ones could be repaired. The secondary systems weren’t designed to handle that load and so when they were at risk of overloading the power had to be taken off line. Not everywhere, but the rolling blackouts meant that everyone was affected at some point. Summer had been worse, as the heat meant everyone who could was using air conditioners (despite all the encouragement to avoid this), so the expectation was that now it was autumn things may go back to normal. Surely the repairs will have been done, and people aren’t using aircon now that it’s cool. Instead things were getting worse, with backup power supplies failing on mobile network towers, and now their water supply company.
Which is why people were fed up, afraid, and looking for alternative reasons for the continued disruption. It didn’t help that this had come at a time that supply chains were also disrupted around the globe, with key routes shut down due to wars over resources, supermarket shelves were looking more sparse these days. This led to more stockpiling, by those with the means, and higher prices for everyone.
When Sadie thought about it, thought where things were heading, she couldn’t see how things could improve. And now the army were on the streets to distribute water rations. She could hear part of a conversation further up the queue mentioning “martial law” and “curfews”. In effect there had been a curfew in place, if not officially, at least practically. When the power went out there was no public transport, and cycling and driving was dangerous, as the traffic signals didn’t work. So those who were able to went back to working from home, and those that couldn’t work from home aimed to get back to their homes before it got dark. Of course shift workers, those keeping hospitals and other infrastructure and services running did not have a choice, and had to rely on taxis/rideshare apps and luck.
But so far there had been no directive to be at home for a certain time, just advice to avoid travel during blackouts where possible.
Sadie, Eve, Bill and Victor chatted about random things as they moved forward in the queue. Eve and Victor worked at the same company, that was how they had first met, and there was always juicy office politics to regale to the others. Sadie and Bill had been at university together in the Midlands, studying Computer Science, and had been lucky enough to get junior engineer roles at tech companies based in London before the slump in recruitment. They had all ended up in the same flat after Sadie reached out to her schoolfriend Eve for London accommodation advice, and the timing coincided with Eve needing to find new flatmates.
For a year they had mainly passed each other by, they all had their own interests and schedules, and other than the usual friction caused by different standards applied to communal spaces and cleaning responsibilities, they got on well enough. But when the power cuts started, and got more frequent, and the supply chain problems became more evident, and their companies advised to work from home, then they spent a lot more time together. It wasn’t a lockdown, they could go out, and did as much as possible, but each at one time or other had been caught beyond walking distance away from the flat in a power cut after dark, and none wanted a repeat of that. Hence the curfew that wasn’t a curfew.
Finally they were in sight of the water supply post. Large signs saying 6 litres per person, ID required. They could hear fractious voices at the front, temporarily quelled by the approach of army personnel carrying large guns, and then picking up again. Pleas for more water to take to people who are unable to attend in person, for families, to make up baby formula, to help keep clean. But the personnel in charge of dispensing the water were unmoved. At least they supplied containers for those who hadn't brought their own.
A bank of tables were setup with people checking IDs and addresses and noting them in tablets. When they got to that part Sadie showed them Deborah’s passport and proof of address as well and explained they were collecting an additional ration for their elderly landlady. They were granted 5 vouchers to hand to the dispensers. And then on to the water where they redeemed it for 30 litres of water, filling three of their containers. Balancing those back on the trolley they headed home. Back past the queue that was even longer now, maybe half a mile.
Everyone was hoping that this was a one-off emergency situation, and the water would be clean again tomorrow. Though most people expected things would get worse before they got better, no one could have imagined what the future was going to bring.