Socially Distanced: A Quarantine Novella

“All those grimy men sitting on horses and spitting every five minutes.” Kendra laughs. “Definitely not my thing.”

“What is your thing?”

“Science fiction,” she says quickly. “Well, it used to be anyway. Now I kind of feel like I’m living in a dystopian future, but it’s happening right now.”

“Welcome to district whatever. We’re the ones who don’t get much.”

“And I did not volunteer for this!” She laughs again, and the sound flitters over the balcony and into the air, making me smile and chuckle, too.

“I might have,” I say after a minute.

“Might have what?”

“Volunteered. I didn’t get the chance. I’d already tested positive after my family…well, after they were gone. I was sheltering in place, not going out, but I guess enough people were violating the orders that no one was to be trusted anymore. They broke into my house, tranked me, and I woke up here.”

“Your whole family?” Kendra says in a low whisper.

“Everyone but my sister, yeah.” I swallow hard. I don’t want to think about this, but it might be best to just get it out. “My parents and my kid brother were with me when we took the subway to see the local children’s theatre do their winter show. That first guy—the one who escaped the original quarantine—was on the subway with us. My family was all gone five days after we were exposed.”

“Oh, wow! Sean, I’m so sorry.”

“I was the only one who didn’t catch it, so I put myself in isolation at home like they told us to. I waited to get sick, but it never happened. Then when they figured out the treatment for the infected didn’t seem to stop us from being carriers…well, I’m here now, so you know how that goes.”

“Yeah, I do.” She quiets for a moment, smoking slowly. “I’d already left the city and was doing classes from home. My mother died on the way to the hospital and my father the next day.”

“You an only child?”

“Yeah. My parents thought one kid was better for population control.” She laughs without humor, and my stomach tightens a little.

The last time I listened to the news, the number of deaths had been staggering.

We fall into an uncomfortable silence, and I wonder if I’ve lost the ability to verbally communicate with people. I remember hanging out with friends in college, easily talking about whatever topic was at hand, but now I can’t seem to think of anything to say at all.

“So, the weather is nicer today,” Kendra says.

I glance over at her, eyebrow raised.

“Well, talk of the weather is better than silence, right?”

“I guess it would be a lot worse if we were quarantined in a cold climate.” I chuckle a little, but Kendra goes silent again. Eventually, she speaks again.

“Sean?”

“Yeah?”

“I have no idea where we are.”

“Atlanta.”

“Near the CDC?”

“Depends on what you consider near. We’re downtown, which is a few miles from the CDC. The whole area was quarantined early on, and for the most part, the city is still empty.”

“I’ve never been to Atlanta before.”

“It’s a pretty cool town.” It was, anyway, but I avoid using the past tense.

“Are you from here?”