Until the World Stops - L.A. Witt Page 0,31

Illuminati reptilian globalists in bed with Bill Gates and Big Pharma, or whatever, and whose fault it was that things were so politicized.

Sometimes it was fun to poke at Chief Larson. He was painfully gullible when it came to conspiracy theories. About six months before the fateful Facebook post, Tristan had convinced Chief that solar panels were getting heated up and giving off gases that were way more damaging to the environment than carbon dioxide would ever be. When Chief said he couldn’t find anything online, Tristan had just laughed smugly and said he needed to dig deeper instead of believing everything he heard on the internet. That went on for two solid weeks before Tristan finally told him he’d just pulled it out of his ass.

That was fun and amusing.

These days, when it was about something that was hitting everyone too close to home, it wasn’t fun or amusing anymore. Especially not when my hometown was currently a major hotspot. If I had to listen to Chief rant for another second about how it was just media-fueled hysteria when I knew at least two people back home in Seattle who had family members in the hospital, then career be damned, I’d knock his teeth down his throat.

So while the chiefs kept “debating,” I went into the locker room to change out of my uniform.

After I’d showered and put on civvies, I checked my phone like I usually did. Out of sheer habit, I went to the Tinder app, but only for a second. Hooking up wasn’t happening. Maine still didn’t even have any confirmed cases yet, but the state also wasn’t doing much if any testing yet, so who knew if it was here or not?

No, I wasn’t taking chances. Goddammit, though—my last hookup had been mediocre at best. Not terrible or anything, and we’d gotten each other off, but he’d been a lot more interested in his enjoyment than mine. That was going to be the last sex I had for the foreseeable future? That was some bullshit.

For two weeks after that last hookup, I’d freaked out every time I got a tickle in my throat or even choked on my own spit while I was running. What if he’d had COVID? What if he’d given it to me? I’d messaged him a few days later and asked him to let me know if he had any symptoms, but then he’d blocked me, so he wasn’t much help. Maybe I’d have done the same if some guy I’d screwed pinged me afterward to ask if he needed to be tested for anything. It wasn’t like I was accusing him of recklessly spreading around some STI; we’d used condoms, and anyway, this was some weird new bug that didn’t like to show symptoms right away.

I hadn’t heard from him and probably never would, and now I was coming up on a month since I’d been in contact with him. No symptoms so far. I’d called the health department twice hoping I could get tested just to be safe, but they’d practically laughed me off the phone because nobody in this state was getting tested. There was nothing I could do except wait and see if I developed symptoms. Did I mention all those pandemic nightmares I’d had after reading The Stand? Christ, I was pretty sure the only reason I was getting any sleep at all was sheer exhaustion from stress and my early hours and long shifts at work.

I didn’t like leaving the house at all. Just being at work, dealing with people as they came and went from the base, had me anxious in ways I’d never been before, especially while Maine continued to lag way behind other states in testing. Literally anyone could have the virus. Overnight, I’d turned into a hardcore germaphobe, and I hated it. All I wanted to do now was go home, literally board up the doors and windows, and not go out again until all this bullshit was over. I was scared and I wasn’t ashamed to admit it.

At least Tristan was willing to keep handling errands like the grocery store and the post office. Under normal circumstances, I didn’t mind doing it, but these days, going to work was apparently all I could handle of being out of the house and among people. Not that he needed to go to the store or post office very often; once a week at most to top off anything we were low on