My short story Theta, set in the very near future. Written in the hope that art will not imitate life, especially if we can all summon the collective clarity and wisdom to do what needs to be done.

     He sat down at his computer desk for a baked beans and toast lunch after having run back and forth from his living room to his bedroom fifty four times.
     His downstairs neighbor had not complained about his workout noise for almost a week.
     He checked his calendar. The last time he had been outside was sixteen days ago, when he put on his civilian hazmat suit to take out the garbage. He had only done so because the pile was getting too big and the odor was getting too strong.
     Shortly after he started eating his smartphone buzzed. He eyed his garbage bags by the door before checking his phone.
     “The assistant’s containment suit has been delivered to your front door. Please proceed with your instructions.”
     He quickly chewed down a piece of toast and went to his front door. Carefully opening it, they had put up a plastic barrier in front of his door, a thin steel frame with clear plastic to create a closet-sized enclosure just outside of his apartment. They had placed the large square case just inside the enclosed barrier.
     Bringing it in, he turned his computer monitor around so he could watch the video as he put the suit on. He laid out all of the parts of the hazmat suit as he looked over the instructions for putting it together.
     Looking back and forth between the paper instructions and the video, he had to fasten all of the seals that made the gloves and boots airtight with the body suit, as well configuring the head covering so that it was not only airtight but also easy to breathe in.
     He double checked the instructions and watched the video one more time. The video was almost done when his phone buzzed again.
     “Are you ready for you assignment?”
     He texted back. “Yes. I believe so.”
     “In ten minutes your supervisor will come back to inspect your suit and start your assignment.”
     He was tempted to remove his head covering to finish his lunch, but thought better of it. He sat down at his computer and looked through TikToks until his doorbell rang.
     Opening his door, someone encased in a very elaborate hazmat suit stood before the plastic barrier, one much more elaborate and advanced than the one he was wearing.
     “Please step outside of the door and close it behind you,” shouted the Hazmat suit.
     He stepped outside and shut the door behind him.
     “My name is Andrea,” said the Hazmat suit. “You can call me Andy. I’m your supervisor for this shift. I am now going to ask you to step out of the sealed area before your door.”
     He unzipped the clear plastic barrier and stepped out, zipping it up behind him. She looked him up and down, putting her hands on his wrists and neckline to check his seals. She knelt down and look at his boot seals.
     She stood up. “Can you breathe normally? Are you comfortable in that suit?”
     “Yes.”
     “Because you might be in there for a while.”
     “I understand.”
     She took a laminated card out of her med kit. “You understand that by volunteering to be an orderly you may be exposing yourself to Theta, Zeta, Omicron, Delta, and original strains?”
     “Yes.”
     “You also realize that by volunteering for this task that the city of Reno, the state of Nevada, and the Federal government of the United States are not responsible for any long or short term illnesses, or any results of any of those potential illnesses including possible long term health effects?”
     He nodded.
     “Tell me you understand.”
     “I understand.”
     She put away the card and looked him in the eye. “You do understand that by volunteering for this position you may contract a disease that could become terminal?”
     “I do.”
     “Okay. We have two people to see in your complex before we move on.”
     He nodded. She turned and he followed.
     She took out her phone and quickly spoke into it. “Proceeding to fourteen B, Miss Beasly.”
     She meant the elderly woman who lived below him, the one who had previously complained about his exercise noise.
     It was the first time he had heard her name. He had only known her as “The downstairs lady who always complains.”
     He quickened his steps, following Andy as best he could. She was apparently quite used to moving in a bulky hazmat suit.
     There were two more hazmat suits standing in front of Beasly’s apartment. They had the plastic barrier in front of her door as well. One of them held the plastic barrier open as he followed Andy and another hazmat suit into the apartment.
     He quickly glanced at the old person decor of the front room as they marched into her bedroom.
     He stopped in his tracks.
     “Is she dead?” he gasped.
     “Not dead,” said the hazmat suit standing by her bed. “But she’s in really bad shape. We need to get her out of here.”
     Her body was twisted and she was not moving. Her short gray hair was disheveled. Her eyes were closed and her mouth was open.
     Andy arranged Miss Beasly, straightening out her legs and crossing her arms across her chest. Miss Beasly’s expression never changed.
     Andy turned to him as another hazmat suit brought in a stretcher. “You’ll get her by the legs. Remember how you’re supposed to do it.”
     He nodded. He took her legs as the other hazmat suit took her by the shoulders.
     “Okay,” said the shoulder grabbing hazmat suit. “One, two, three!”
     He stumbled a bit when she let out a gasp as they brought her up. They placed her on the stretcher and Andy and the other hazmat suit placed a clear plastic canopy cover over Miss Beasly.
     Andy checked her cell again as they wheeled her out. “Okay, we have Martin two doors down.”
     Martin was the local jabber jaw, the one who kept teasing him for always wearing his mask and staying inside during the lockdowns.
     “You know this whole thing is just a hoax, right?” he would say to him whenever he came out wearing a mask to check his mail. Martin would always get aggressive whenever he asked him to back off. “You gotta live your life,” Martin would yell. “You can’t live in fear. They want you to live in fear. They’re using this so-called thing to take us down!”
     He thought about all of the things Martin had said to him as they walked over to his place.
     The clear plastic barrier was in front of his door as well, but there was no one outside of his apartment. They walked in. His living room was cluttered with empty food containers, empty bottles, and stacks of unwashed dishes.
     Going into his bedroom, it was the first time he had ever seen Martin without his truckers hat. Someone in a Hazmat suit was bending over him as he lied in bed, clutching the covers over himself.
     His face was pale and gaunt. His chest was heaving up and down as he breathed.
     Andy walked up to the hazmat suit who was already there.
     “Stretcher?” asked Andy.
     The Hazmat suit stood straight up. “Home case.” The hazmat suit held up a piece of paper. “He’ll need these courses three times every twenty four hours. Schedule B for medic visitations.”
     Andy turned towards him. “You signed up for injection protocols, right?”
     “Yes.”
     “Ever give anyone an injection before?”
     “To a cat, yes.”
     “A cat?”
     “A diabetic cat, when I was a teenager. We had to give it insulin.”
     “Good enough. Watch first.”
     They bent over Martin. Martin stared at him. “I’m sorry,” groaned Martin.
     “Sorry…” he replied, confused.
     “For makin’ fun of ya’.” He sat up and coughed. “I made fun of ya’ for bein’ careful. I made fun of ya’ for trying to avoid…” He waved a hand over himself, “this.”
     Andy held up a small syringe. “I’m giving him a dose. I need you to pay attention. Get the measurement just right.”
     He leaned in as Andy showed him which bottle to use and how much to put in the syringe.
     Martin grabbed his arm. “Don’t let my kids in here.”
     Andy grabbed Martin’s hand and made him lie back down. “You need to keep still. Don’t try to grab anyone in a containment suit.”
     Martin kept looking at him. “My kids, they think it’s a hoax. They think they’re not in danger. They’ll try and come in here.”
     Martin looked at him with wide eyes as Andy injected him. “Don’t let them in here. Please promise me you won’t let them in here.”
     “Okay,” he said. “I promise.”
     Martin sat up and grabbed his arm again.
     “Don’t let them in here!” gasped Martin with wild eyes. “They keep sayin’ it’s like the flu. They’re going to try and come in here!”
     Andy grabbed Martin by the shoulders and lowered him back into his bed. “Take it easy.”
     “I promise,” he said. “I’m right upstairs. I won’t let them in.”
     As they were walking back out, he looked around his front room.
     “Maybe I should clean up,” he said.
     “No!” exclaimed Andy. “We have other volunteers for that, with specialized suits and materials. We’re going to need you for EMT help and medicinal distributions.”
     Once they were outside Andy carefully closed the door and took him by the arm, leading him away from Martin’s apartment. “Don’t worry about watching out for his kids.”
     “I don’t know how I would stop them anyway.”
     “There’s nothing to stop.” Andy looked at Martin’s apartment and then turned back to him. “His son died two days ago. His daughter’s in the ICU.”
     He looked back at Andy. He didn’t know what to say.
     “His daughter’s at the field ICU?” he finally blurted.
     “At the hospital ICU.”
     Andy led him around the corner to the parking lot. Several patients were waiting on stretchers. He spent the rest of his short shift loading his fellow residents of the apartment complex into ambulances.
     After the Sun had gone down, Andy directed him and several other hazmat suits to five different apartments, all of which contained dead occupants. He could tell that the other hazmat suits were new volunteers such as himself by the way they moved and looked around.
     At the end of his shift he was directed to a mobile medical unit where he took off his hazmat suit in an isolation room and put on a temporary suit made of clear plastic and thick paper. After a quick swab test he was directed to go back into his apartment and remain there until the next morning when they would bring him another hazmat suit, one that had been disinfected.
     Back in his apartment, he took a long shower before sitting down at his computer.
     He had met Martin’s son and daughter and few times. They were a lot like Martin. Working class and distrustful.
     He thought about Martin’s daughter. He knew what kind of patients went to the hospital ICU.
     He checked his email, his Twitter, and his Facebook.
     He took note of those Facebook and Twitter friends who had not posted in the last few days.
     He thought about what he would tell Martin when he went to see him in the morning.
     He decided that he would tell him that he kept his kids from coming in.