Survivor's Hope

The following story was submitted as an entry to the first round of the Creative Quarantine Contest. The prompt was as follows: Write a short story no longer than 1500 words of a first meeting between two people that leaves both with hope in a shared future. This encounter takes place during an epidemic.

Survivor's Hope

by Emma Blumer

Regis glanced down at the cracked screen on his scaly wrist. Nope. He wasn’t surprised, but there was always a chance. But still, no new alerts about food distribution. Kyja and the kids were almost through the supplies he’d swiftly stockpiled when the disease had started wreaking intergalactic turmoil physically and economically. Regis worked as a custodian for the galaxy’s largest communications corporation, so he did still have work at least. Executives who had been germaphobic before all this now wanted every possible surface to be nuked with cleaning products multiple times a day.

Once he had finished work, Regis started the trek home. The local public transport transport pods had been outlawed and seized weeks prior. He and Kyja had almost saved up enough to purchase a personal pod. But that was before. Most things were before. Planets all over the galaxy had taken similar losses. Except for the Sckills.

They were completely immune to contracting the disease or spreading the contagion. So besides being in the clear physically they were also able to travel and trade freely. Somebody always makes bank during uncertainty, mused Regis as he passed by a Sckill.

“Excuse me?” He turned. What did this sckill kid want with him? “Umm...can I use your communicator?”

“Sure, kid.” Not like I’m scared of your germs anyway.

“Thanks so much. Mine just died. My mom sent me here to sell stuff, but she forgot to give me the most recent transport code for getting home. We gotta use special ones these days.”

Regis waited while the kid punched out a message and sent it. Then they both stood there waiting for the reply.

“So, how you doing in the apocalypse, kid?”

“Oh, okay. It’s weird having friends get sick and knowing I won’t.”

Survivor’s guilt.

Regis tried to smile at the kid.

“Well, you know, you Sckills are a huge help right now. You’re probably helping save lives by being able to travel and trade like you can.”

The communicator buzzed. The kid scribbled the code onto a crumpled receipt.

“Thanks again. Here. Take this.” The kid fished around in his pack. It was a family-sized food tube. Not very flavorful, but it was nutritious.

Regis tried to keep his voice from breaking. “Thanks, kid. You take care of yourself.”

We’ll get through this somehow. Yeah. I’m sure we will.