HUM by Dan Hawley (chromebook ebook reader TXT) 📕

bag on the floor and headed to the lounge to find everyone still and staring at the flatscreen mounted on the far wall. Concerned faces watched the well-dressed news anchor with BREAKING NEWS scrolling along the bottom of the screen in huge red letters.

“The Centre for Disease Control announced this morning that the Novel Coronavirus, COVID-19, has been labeled a pandemic. Cases are surging across the world, with Europe and the Americas hit hardest. In the U.S., cases are being reported in all states now as thousands of infections have been identified. The global death toll is also rising at an alarming rate. Mass graves are needed to bury the overwhelming numbers of deceased here in Brazil.”

The television then showed footage of people in hazmat suits standing around with shovels while large machines cleaned out giant holes in the ground. The frame switched to those same holes, now filled with linen-wrapped bodies; too many to count.

“Jesus,” Jason whispered.

The news anchor continued, “President Trump is holding a news conference today at 11 a.m. eastern. We will break to that live coverage as it happens.”

The screen continued its cycle of footage showing mass graves and people in hazmat suits. It showed blurred faces of patients in Intensive Care Units, tubes coming out of everywhere as hospital staff acted in frantic movements to save lives. Graphs and numbers that continued to tick upwards flashed across the screen. Global case count, U.S. case count. Global death toll, U.S. death toll.

“I heard Canada is locked down already. Everyone told to stay inside except for essential needs,” Jason overheard the short, stubby engineer in front of him say to the woman on his left.

“How can they do that?” she said. “Don’t people have to work?”

“Ok, everyone,” a voice said from the door.

It was William. Even though his dark suit was impeccable, he looked like he had not slept. The bags under his eyes were sagging, and exhaustion seemed to have stifled his usual exuberant energy.

“Obviously, by now, you have seen what is happening out there. This virus is spreading faster than people thought it was going to, and it appears more deadly as well. This morning the CDC announced COVID-19 to be a global pandemic. The numbers here in Washington state are surging. And while most people who get the virus will recover without issue, there seems to be a high percentage of people who have difficulty beating it. Hospitals are concerned they aren’t going to have enough beds or ventilators for the sick. Our governor will speak sometime this afternoon, when I expect they will introduce a lockdown. China has locked down, and their numbers have stabilized and are in decline.”

“Yeah, if you can believe the Chinese,” someone behind Jason said under their breath but loud enough for some to hear.

William continued, “Parts of Europe like Italy and Spain have also gone into a lockdown. Only essential services are open: grocery stores, pharmacies, and clinics. Those governments have asked their citizens to stay home except for groceries or if they need medical attention.

“In light of this and in anticipation of the inevitable lockdown here in Seattle, you are all going to be working remotely, starting tomorrow.” William finished his announcement, and a silence deafened the room momentarily. William looked around at his employees. They looked stunned. Then, as if on cue, the voices of almost everyone in the room broke the silence all at once. Everyone was asking questions, concerned and confused. Some were directed at William, some at the person standing to their right or left. Some people asked questions into the ether, rhetorical in nature.

As the voices swelled to a crescendo, fear turned Jason’s guts into knots. He sat down among his standing peers to catch his breath. All he could think about was how he had moved Sam thousands of miles away from home only to be locked down and isolated.

* * *

Samantha read Jason’s text as the news anchor reported in the background. She had been sitting curled up in her spotless white robe all morning, fixated on the television. Her laptop was sitting open on the coffee table, but she was too distracted to continue browsing the job search website.

She nervously tapped the rim of her coffee mug with her thin gold ring while taking in Jason’s words. Being hypnotized by an entire morning of apocalyptic images had Sam anxious and scared, so she was comforted by Jason’s text. At least he would be there with her. He would just be in the other room, working, but still here.

She sipped her coffee.

“Just until this thing blows over,” he had said in his text.

Maybe a month or two according to the speculation in his office. Samantha placed her mug back down on the wooden table and turned the tv off with the remote. She gathered her robe around herself, stood up, and went to the window. It was overcast, but the full-length window still allowed for a beautiful view of the harbor.

People were hurrying along on the streets below, milling into and out of various buildings. Samantha stared at them, wondering how many of those people were infected. Just going about their day as if nothing was wrong; breathing, sneezing, and blowing their noses.

She was dreading it, but she knew what she had to do. She turned and headed towards her closet, removing her robe along the way. She hung her robe on the back of the closet door and began to dress. As she was dressing, Sam tried to remember where she had packed her mask. Her father had insisted she bring one. It was common in his culture to wear a mask if you felt unwell, out of respect for others. Samantha loved her Japanese culture; she thought it courteous and respectful, steeped in honor and tradition. As she searched in a duffle bag, her thoughts went to her parents.

Longing squeezed at her heart as memories flooded her thoughts. She rooted through her drawers, looking