She actually yelled through Malcolm’s door, telling him to just fucking tell her he was alive if he was, and she’d go away once he had. When she got no response, she told herself not to cry. It’s still not confirmed he’s dead. He could’ve just been out. She’s texted him the same thing she’d yelled, but at the moment, she’s not even sure everyone still alive in the city can get a signal.
She knows she should text Trish, no matter how much she doesn’t want to. But hell, if Trish is still alive, sooner or later she’ll try to get in contact again on her own.
So far, there’s been no time to think about it much anyway, because it was about then the first people out on the street tried to break in. Who knows what they were thinking, or if they were. Jessica didn’t ask.
Hey, she hasn’t killed any of them. She thinks. At the very least, they all limped out of her sight alive.
She’s been standing at the building entrance ever since, watching the rioters and other crazy people run amok through the streets of Hell’s Kitchen. The whole spaceship thing from a few days ago had probably left them on edge already, and when apparently there were now people crumbling into dust all over the world, well.
Most of the other tenants still present are all huddled in their apartments. One of them’s going around, making a list of who’s there, and who they can confirm as dead. That’s probably a good thing, that they’ve got someone who can keep their head on straight enough to do things like that right now. There’s one woman standing a bit behind Jessica, watching everything while looking wary.
They can all of them think whatever they fucking want to think. Jessica’s here, and she’s making sure no more of them die today, because today’s the kind of day where you do that. What the hell else can she do anyway?