Volume II – Episode 94 Where: Melbourne, Australia When: 1 month and 3 days after E-Day, 6:11 pm When I told Emily I was going to Quinn Hill to drop off some food for a little orphaned girl, she had insisted on coming with me. I opened the boot of my car and lifted the sturdy box of supplies off the back shelf. My computer programmer's arms strained under the weight of the crate filled with fresh fruit and vegetables, salad rolls, milk, pies, sandwiches and large jars of home-made marmalade, all of which had been donated by the market folk when Emily told them of the little girl eating nothing but dry cereal and potato chips. I rejected Emily's offer to help me carry the crate and walked up the driveway towards the house. Emily followed me. "She doesn't have any lights on," she said, noticing that the house windows were all dark. "We should come back and set up a generator for her." The casualness with which she said "we" didn't escape my attention. I nodded and half-dropped/half-placed the heavy box of supplies at the little girl's front door. "What did you say her name was?" "No idea," I said. "I kind of ran away when I saw her." To her credit - and my relief - Emily didn't make a smart remark. She didn't judge me. She just said "okay" and rang the door bell. My intention had been to drop food off at the little girl's front door every couple of days, maybe along with the occasional note asking if she needed anything in particular, but Emily had insisted on trying to make contact with her. "She's a little girl living all by herself, and her parents are gone," she'd said. "We can't just abandon her." I'd replied that the girl was probably scared, and might not want to make contact with a pair of strange adults, especially after the scare I'd given her the day before. Emily had agreed, but had insisted on at least trying. Still no answer at the front door. Emily rang the door bell again, and knocked gently. "Hello?" she called. "Honey? My name is Emily Willson. I'm a doctor. Honey, I just want to make sure you're okay. Can you come to the door?" No response. "Honey? Are you there?" Nothing. We waited a full minute. Still nothing. Slightly exasperated, Emily raised her voice so the girl - assuming she was inside and listening - could hear her. "Okay, well, we've left some food here for you, honey. We'll be back again tomorrow. If you need anything, just let us know, okay? You can leave a note on your door if you don't want to come outside." No response. I tilted my head, indicating that it was time for us to leave. There was nothing more we could do here. And the longer we stayed, the more threatened the little girl would feel. As we turned from the door, there was a faint, almost inaudible sound of a floorboard creaking somewhere within the depths of the building. I glanced at Emily. Her face said it all: she'd heard it too.