With his arms full of canned goods, rice, water, and batteries, Flynn loaded up his car and sat back in the driver's seat. His father asking him if he'd found someone yet had reminded him of one more person he could call. One more person he should call, whether or not he was right about the DOD's intents with the bunker and the chambers.

Liz had been Flynn's college friend--no, his best friend--and in his heart and mind, she lived at 21 years old forever, the one who got away. The one Flynn allowed to get away. He had never told her how he felt about her for fear of losing their friendship.

Now, after fifteen years, their friendship that had slowly faded to mere acquaintancy online. She posted photos infrequently of her and her new husband traveling through Europe. They looked happy in the highlight reel moments she shared, but he hadn't done anything more than 'like' the posts in years. He wondered if the phone number he had saved as "Liz College" was even hers any more.

Before he turned on the car, he took a deep breath and mustered the courage to hit the phone symbol and call the number.

It rang continuously as he pulled out of the parking lot and back onto the road towards home. He was sure he would hear a voicemail message soon, telling him for sure that it was no longer Liz's number, that it was now someone else and that they couldn't come to the phone right now but if he left his name and number, they'd return his call.

He felt relief imagining not having to have the conversation he had intended to when Liz picked up. "Hello?"

It was her voice. He wouldn't forget it. Light and airy, but somehow gruff at the same time. Like a fairy tale Princess who hadn't smoked in ages, but once chainsmoked menthols out the window of her tower.

"Hello?" she repeated.

"Hey. Liz, hi. It's Flynn."

"Yeah, I saw on the ID, but I couldn't believe my eyes. How are you? It's been so long."

"It has. I'm, um, I'm good. I just stopped by the grocery to stock up on water and canned stuff."

"There a storm coming? Are you still in America, or should I stock up too?"

"Yeah, a storm is coming here. Tornado, they think. But you never know with the weather these days. You might want to get some too in case it flies over to you all."

"In case a tornado flies across the ocean and touches down in Scotland?"

"Climate change is real, Liz."

She chuckled and said, "I'll consider that, thank you."

"You should, yeah. It never hurts to have some things stocked away."

"Is this why you're calling after, what, a decade?"

"No," he said. "I was reminded of you and thought I should say hi. You still in Edinboro?"

"Yeah, still here. I got married last summer. We're expecting our first, but it's still early. I think it's a girl, but my husband disagrees."

Flynn swallowed hard, feeling his heart break. What would it be like to be expecting a child with Liz? She'd be an amazing mother, he thought, but he wouldn't want to bring any children into this world. Maybe with her, but even with Liz, he'd have to be convinced. They'd have her dark hair and olive skin over his recessive pale features.

"You still there?"

"Oh, yeah, sorry."

"Why'd you call, Flynn? Is everything okay?"

"I, uh...." He trailed off. He knew that someone could be listening, but he always became so flustered with Liz. He didn't know how to lie to her about something like this and he needed to clear up what he had always lied to her about. "I don't know, Liz, but I can't say anything else. Mostly because I could just be paranoid. I don't really know anything except... well, so, I wanted to just tell you something before I can't anymore."

"Do I need to call emergency services for you, Flynn?"

"No, no. It's not that. I promise, I'm not going to hurt myself. I just... do you remember that day after we went out and drank an entire bottle of whiskey ourselves?"

"I remember the next day, sure, but not that night," Liz said with a chuckle. "I was sick as a dog."

"So I came over and we spent the day holed up together on your bed. We listened to each other's favorite songs and we--why did you have a ball in your room?--we passed the ball to each other with our feet and we just laughed and talked about our lives the whole day?"

"I remember that, yeah."

"I still think about that day. It was the first time that I thought, 'I really want to kiss her right now.' But I didn't."

There was silence on the line, so Flynn continued.

"Remember when you came to visit me on holiday before your study abroad semester, and we explored the whole city together, just you and me?"

"That was a fun weekend."

"I should have said something to you then. I should have told you that I was going to miss you like crazy and that I loved you, but I was always so feart. I didn't want to ruin our friendship."

"Are you drunk, Flynn?"

"I am not, no."

"Why are you telling me this now? This is so random, and honestly, sort of hurtful. I'm happy now, I'm living my life an ocean away and you're off doing amazing things I could have never understood. What's the point of telling me now?"

"I think that you knowing someone loves and thinks about you is more important than my fear, especially if we aren't going to talk or be friends anymore anyway."

"Flynn, I don't know what to tell you. You're timing is exceptionally rubbish."

"I know. I don't need you to say anything."

"I loved you too, Flynn. If you had kissed me at any of those moments, I would have kissed you back."

Flynn began to cry. "Damn. I was such an idiot, huh?"

"The smartest idiot I'll ever meet." She paused as Flynn sighed deeply. "Look, what is it that we learned in school? There are likely endless parallel universes, endless versions of ourselves out there in the multiverse, right? I've made peace with our relationship in this universe, because I know that somewhere out there, there's a version of us that got together and broke up. Then somewhere else there's a version of us that told each other how we felt and never didn't anything more about it. And there are versions of us out there that are sublimely happy."

"I sense they're doing well."

"I do, too. I think that this version of us is doing well, too, though. I'm happy you called, and at the same time, I hope you understand why I think you shouldn't again."

"Yeah, of course."

"But for whatever reason you're not actually telling me, I'll get some water and cans."

"Please do. And batteries."

"Toilet paper, while we're at it."

Flynn chuckled, pulling onto his street. "I wish you every happiness, Liz. I really do. I'm glad you're doing well."

"I'm glad you're... well, you don't sound happy. I'm glad we spoke."

As Flynn pulled into the lot of his apartment building, he saw Captain Keith Jones standing, arms crossed in front of his wide chest, and seemingly waiting for him in front of a black sedan.

"I've got to go, Liz. Take care."

"Same to you, Flynn."

He hung up, his tears immediately stopped at the sight of the Captain. He parked and got out of the car. He waited by his trunk for Keith to say something when he finally did: "We need you to report back."

"Can I bring up my groceries first?"

The Captain shook his head. "No time."

Flynn bowed his head and followed the Captain's instructions to get into the car, just as he would follow the Captain's instructions to go into the bunker, help dignataries and chosen leaders into the chambers, and finally, enter into a chamber himself.

He was already frozen when the sirens went off the next day. He was already frozen when his colleagues entered into their own chambers. He never heard the screams or felt the ground shake.

Flynn's groceries remained in the trunk until the blast from the first bomb ripped open every car and building in DC.