Socially Distanced: a Quarantine Novella

By Shay Savage

Locked away in an isolation facility in Atlanta, Sean exists but doesn’t really live in his silent, bleak environment. When Kendra moves into the quarantine pod next door, Sean finds meaning in his life again. Separated by a wall, they can only communicate across a balcony, and she helps him find some creative ways to relieve the tension and monotony. Together, they’ll find a new normal.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Shay Savage
• Release date: Jul 23, 2020
• ISBN: 9780999258071

Shay Savage

Shay Savage is an independent author from Cincinnati, Ohio, where she lives with her family and a variety of household pets. She is an accomplished public speaker and holds the rank of Distinguished Toastmaster from Toastmasters International. Her hobbies include off-roading in her big, yellow Jeep, science fiction in all forms, and soccer. Savage holds a degree in psychology, and she brings a lot of that knowledge into the characters within her stories.From the author: “It’s my job to make you FEEL. That doesn’t always mean you’ll feel good, but I want my readers to be connected enough to my characters to care.”Savage’s books many books span a wide variety of topics and sub-genres with deeply flawed characters. From cavemen to addicts to hitmen, you’ll find yourself falling for these seemingly irredeemable characters!

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Author’s Note

For the past few weeks, I keep hearing that old saying in my head: May you live in interesting times.  Meant to be ironic, since peace and tranquility are rarely interesting, and often referred to as a curse, these words seem to embody our lives today.  As a writer, interesting times are exactly what I want for my stories, but reality is very different.

A lot of wonderful people out there in the world are doing free online concerts, DJ sessions, reading aloud, and dedicating themselves to helping people through the monotony of isolation by using their talents.  I’m not much of a singer, so a novella is what you get from me.

This is my own therapy as well.  I want to know that even if things get worse, there is a light at the end of the tunnel.  There is hope in our future.  We will get through this and be stronger as a people than we were before.

Check in on your friends and family, stay safe, and hang in there!

Shay Savage

Table of Contents

Author’s Note

Prologue: Day 1

Chapter One: Day 128

Chapter Two: Day 132

Chapter Three: Day 133

Chapter Four: Day 140

Chapter Five: Day 164

Chapter Six: Day 166

Chapter Seven: Day 167

Chapter Eight: Day 176

Chapter Nine: Day 182

Epilogue: New Life, Day 17

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About the Author

Prologue: Day 1

I wake with sore limbs and a throbbing head.  As I slowly open my eyes to unfamiliar surroundings, I know exactly what’s happened.

I bolt upright in the bed covered in sterile white sheets.  Racing to the door, I reach for the handle only to find that there isn’t one.  I run my hands over the solid door, but there is no way to open it from this side.  At the base of the door is a plexiglass box about the size of a briefcase.  I kneel to examine it.  On the left side of the box is a blinking red light, and at the back is a closed slot.  I see no way of opening it.

I stand again, knees wobbling.  All the blood in my body feels like it’s pooling at my feet.  I glance around again. In the main room, I see the bed on which I awoke, a dresser with a small television, a round table and one chair.  On the dresser is a small pamphlet marked REGULATIONS.  Anther door, also without a handle, is next to the dresser.  Along the far wall is a sliding glass door leading to a balcony, and behind me is a small bathroom.

It’s a hotel room.

The mirror over the sink reflects my bloodshot eyes, a couple of days’ worth of bristly stubble, and a drab grey-green T-shirt I’ve never seen before.

I glance back at the main door, fighting against the desire to pound my fists on it, scream obscenities, and make as much of a ruckus as I can until someone comes.  I could yell and kick and stomp all day long, but I don’t.  I already know no one will come.

Next to the door is a small, framed note.

Meals delivered at 8am, 12pm, and 6pm

Selection of luxury items available monthly

Television provided

No outside contact permitted

I’ve been quarantined.

Chapter One: Day 128

I lean against the balcony rail, inhaling deeply on my cigarette and then blowing the smoke into the misty air.  I look down on the empty city streets below and contemplate what they looked like just a few months ago.

Six months ago, I was on a subway, laughing and spending quality time with my family.

A family trip with my parents and my little brother, who had just turned twenty-one.  My brother had been in the drama club in high school, and his favorite thing to do was to watch amateur theatre productions, especially if they were put on by kids.  He was studying to be a theatre teacher. We took the subway to see a play.

The subway.  The crowded, stinking, disease-infested subway.  The subway we took so we didn’t have to deal with parking fees.  The subway that would allow us to drink if we wanted to and not have to worry about a designated driver.

It’s amazing how much can change in such a short time.  What should be busy city streets are barren.  My active social life, family, and a job that I didn’t hate too much are all things of the past now.  I turn around, my back against the rail, and look through the open glass door into the hotel room that is now my home.

The basics have been provided.  I have shelter, three meals a day delivered through the airlock at the bottom of the door, and a new book every week on my e-reader.  Twice a day, I get running water for thirty minutes.  Every month, I get a choice of luxury items, which is why I have cigarettes now.

Could be worse, right?

I turn again, trying not to think about what worse could mean.  I have to actively stop myself from thinking about those I loved—those that are gone now.  My shirt is starting to get wet from the misting rain, so I take a half step back and just look out at the quiet, dark office buildings around me.

My father had worked in an office building much like the one across from me.  He’d been a stern man but not unreasonable.  My sister Julia never got along with him, which turned out to be in her best interest.  She hadn’t been on the subway when the rest of us had been contaminated.  She sill