A month ago a piece of the old North State was cut off from the rest. Caite knows more about it than her mother thinks, but she pretends she doesn’t. She twists what she knows into mutterings, making monsters out of the scientists and doctors because it’s easier than anything else. They make it easy, too, by wearing long black beaks and coke bottle glasses. They would have been laughable if they hadn’t said, ‘cut this town off,’ and been listened to.
“They are doctors,” Her mother says from the couch. She’s wavered from stalking the news stations and turning the TV off whenever Caite comes into view. Most of the time Caite just braces herself against the hallway wall and lets the bad news waft over her. It’s better than staying in the dark. “It doesn’t matter what they’re wearing. They’re only people.”
Caite sniffs, rubs the crook of her elbow against her nose, and checks for blood. Clean. Always clean. The doctors said they weren’t. They claimed it’d be days before the outbreak took hold and spread all across town. Her nose curls with her lips under a smattering of dark freckles. “No they aren’t.”
Sara Fox is an information specialist and a ne’er-do-well often found wandering in airports both local and abroad. A fan of continuously recreating themselves, they’ve been a researcher, elementary through college teacher, and a techie. Their stories generally dabble around fantasy coming of age and emotive scifi with LGBT+ characters. To learn more please go to mxsfox.com