Rebel Heart

The occupant of the large chair in the corner of the living room launched towards her in a flurry of brown and black fur.

"Jack!" Lana exclaimed as the large animal knocked her back. "I can't believe you're okay!"

"He's more than fine. He took out one thug," Mrs. Watson said proudly. "I didn't think he had it in him after how you baby him."

Lana's face grew warmer. Jack smelled clean and looked healthy with his long pink tongue lolling out of the side of his mouth. He jumped on her again, planting his paws on her shoulders. Mrs. Watson disappeared down a darkened hallway, returning quickly.

"Jack, down! Put this on," she said. In her outstretched hand was a robe. "Just place your … your uniform in the dryer. Jack! Down!"

Lana flushed. Mrs. Watson only offered a small smile, shoved the robe at her, and resumed her seat on the rocking chair. Lana retreated down the hall, trailed by the happy dog. The condo's layout was the same as hers, and she found the bathroom where she expected. She changed, grateful to be out of the cold, wet clothing.

Her gaze settled on the lights, and she wondered how the elderly woman had electricity when no one else did. Lana drew a deep breath and placed the clothing in the round dryer in the linen closet before returning to the living room. The retired fed had cleared a spot for her on the couch. A steaming bowl of soup awaited her on the coffee table. Jack sat beside it, wagging his tail.

"Thank you, Mrs. Watson," Lana said, overwhelmed by the kindness of her neighbor. She sat, patted Jack, and lifted the warm soup, sighing. "What are you still doing here?"

"I have everything I need here," Mrs. Watson replied. "Solar generator, a year's supply of food, weapons. No need to go elsewhere."

"You might need more than a year of food," Lana said before she could stop herself. "I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have said that."

"It's that bad?"

"Yes."

"I'll deal with it when it comes."

Lana smiled faintly, grateful for the familiar woman's gruff calm.

"What're you doing here? I thought your boss would've airlifted you out."

"He airlifted himself out."

"Typical of the political elite," Mrs. Watson said with a frown. "At least you didn't get caught up in the rush to the bridge."