The GAVID Mandemic
Eye on You
Nothing is paywalled, but my effort is real. If you’re able, please consider pay subbing.
“...and if you’re just joining us, you’re listening to WNTR 790. I’m David Mercer. It’s just after ten o’clock, and we’ll begin, as always, with the latest information from the State Department of Public Health (DPH).”
“The statewide Eye on You Order remains in effect. Travel continues to be restricted to essential workers and essential needs only.”
“Officials are once again reminding the public that unnecessary trips outside the home are slowing containment efforts.”
“If you don’t need to be out, don’t be out.”
“It’s really that simple.”
“We’re also hearing continued reports of people gathering in private homes, meeting friends, and traveling across county lines because they’re convinced this is all being exaggerated.”
“It isn’t.”
“Every unnecessary outing increases the opportunity for transmission. The fewer people you encounter, the fewer opportunities the condition has to spread.”
“We know lockdown fatigue is setting in. We know many of you are frustrated, but officials remind us that individual inconvenience must sometimes give way to collective responsibility.”
“We’re also hearing reports of people attempting home remedies circulating online.”
“Please don’t.”
“If it isn’t coming from licensed medical professionals or the Department of Public Health (DPH), treat it with skepticism.”
“A reminder that tomorrow’s antacid distribution begins at eight a.m. Purchases remain limited to one bottle per household, and officials are again asking residents not to visit multiple pharmacies looking for additional supplies.”
“If you’re tired of the restrictions, you’re not alone. We all are.”
“But frustration isn’t a medical exemption.”
“So please, stay home. Give the people working around the clock a chance to get this under control.”
“Now, that’s enough from me.”
“I know many of you have been living with this from the very beginning, and I know you’ve got questions, opinions... maybe even a few stories to tell.”
“So let’s hear them.”
“The phone lines are open.”
“Good evening. You’re on WNTR.”
“Yeah, so I think I have GABOV.”
“What?”
“GABOV! I’m so sick.”
“Do you mean GAVID? Gastroentovirus disease, also known as bad heartburn?”
“YES!”
“What are your symptoms?
“I feel a burn in my esophagus.”
“Then it’s too late for you. Go out back and dig your grave per the order.”
“But I did have a sports drink, spicy food, and alcohol.”
“Yeah sure. I bet you didn’t wear a mask and social distance. Dig the hole and call the Eye On You Police. They handle it from there.”
“But –”
Click.
“Sorry, folks, you know the rules. I’m alone in this studio, and my mask is on. The Eye On You CCTV can verify. Remember. Eight feet social distancing. Masks at all times – even alone. The bad heartburn droplets can stay in the air for 72 hours after someone leaves. Also, many cases, The Lucky Ones, have no symptoms or discomfort. They wouldn’t know if they didn’t test positive, but everyone else they encounter may not be one of The Lucky Ones.”
“Next call.”
“David, I gotta tell you, I’ve been high, drunk, on the couch, binging, and masturbating most of the last three years with the order. I didn’t even want to leave my house.”
“Kay…”
“I felt a slight stomach tingle, you know, the first symptom. How do I get tested again?”
“We’ve told you every five minutes for the last three years.”
“Yeah, umm… I forgot—”
“You couldn’t wait three minutes?”
“I’m high, drunk, and mastur—”
“Got it. You pee in the cup. You dump the cup in the label and put it in the mailbox. They do the rest.”
“Does it matter how long after I—”
Click.
“Sorry about that, folks. This mandemic, beyond pandemic, has brought out the worst in people. The masses lost their minds. Remember the Loud Boys? They were so vocal about not wearing masks or distancing. They defied the stay at home. They gave the bird to The Eye on You. They forgot, or remembered, the CCTVs installed in all of our homes three years ago and checked weekly.”
He took a sip of water through a straw so his mask wouldn't come of.
“Next call.”
“You know, they were exercising their rights and became victims of terror!”
“Oh, Tom, hi. You again. Remember, they’re listening.”
“Oh, I’m looking at three finger stubs on my left hand from last time!”
“You tripped.”
“No! They held me down, took my nondominant hand, and hacked all but my thumb and index finger!”
“We don’t support conspiracy theories. Also, if it’s true, they took your three least important fingers on your weaker hand. Generous, really. They didn’t make you dig your hole.”
“Yeah they went straight to the Revolt! The 6 of March, David! Neutralized! Not sent to Guam or American Samoa, not this time, straight to the hole! Their families, friends, everyone!”
“Yes, Tom, and we still celebrate the 6 of March. Good Day. It means they had time to reflect on their choices and consider better ones.”
“David, they were all killed, their families, friends, women, children, neighbors, squirrels in the trees, and they were put in a mass grave. ALL OF THEM!”
Spins finger at the CCTV.
“We really like our stats and facts peer-reviewed and real.”
“There’s only one news source!”
“Not true.”
“You’re on the only radio station!”
“Not true.”
“Not unless you count the AM radios some of the Resistance… shit.”
“What?”
“I had some weed and was masturbating, sorry.”
“What illegal radio and what group?”
“Nothing! I misspoke. It’s the alcohol!”
“Tom, I think you’re lying.”
“No!”
“Tom, if you’re next to the door, take a step back.”
“Why?”
CRASH!
“Who the—”
“The Eye on You is there to arrest you.”
“Aghhhhhhhhh. Ohhhhhhhh. Stoooooooooooooooooop! Not my other hand. I don’t know the Resistance. I don’t know a radio. Not the other fingers!”
Click.
“It sounds like Tom was resisting, so they had to hold his fingers. Now let’s talk about the vaccine. You get injected by one of two companies that share an HQ. Still wear the mask though. We’re taking a break here in a moment. Enjoy the sounds of TEOYM, The Eye on You Music. We’ll have their latest metal song, No Distance is Burial, followed by their latest hip hop song, The Streets of Reflux, and lastly, their love song, Eye Love You. We’ll be back.”
David stood up and stretched. Got some coffee. Walked around the room. He coughed. To be with compliance, he was the only one in the office. He went to the bathroom. On the way, he took out his phone.
I saw what you did.
A text from an unknown number.
Who is this?
I saw you and can prove it.
Who is this?
You’ll see.
The number didn’t take any more texts.
Another crank, David thought to himself. He came back and turned on the game. The Eye was beating On You. He flipped through the channels. The sitcom Public Health was on about the misadventures in the office. He flipped it. A documentary on a healthy esophagus. He flipped again. The award-winning film The Quiet Boys about the brave men who stood up to tyrants.
David popped a can and drank a soda. Straw through the mask, of course. Once the music was over, he took a breath and put on the headset.
“Welcome back. This just in. The Eye on You has said they are debating having one night a year where all crime is legal everywhere after nightfall. No details yet, but one name idea is The Binge. In other news, if you’re late for your vaccine, you might get a home visit.”
The last of his words disappeared beneath the opening chords of another TEOYM song.
David slipped the headset from one ear and reached for his phone.
Another message.
His grip tightened around the phone.
I saw you.
He frowned.
Who is this?
The reply came almost immediately.
Maple and Third. Last Tuesday.
David’s stomach tightened.
He stared at the screen.
Another message appeared.
Blue jacket. Black cap. One bottle.
He could still see the exchange.
The alley behind the old laundromat.
Cash.
A plain paper bag.
One bottle of Pepto-Bismol.
He told himself it was only heartburn.
Only once.
The shelves had been empty for months.
His thumb hovered over the keyboard.
What do you want?
Three dots appeared.
You’ll see.
The ON AIR light glowed red.
“...whoever you are...”
He froze.
The microphone.
He was already live. David cleared his throat.
“My apologies.”
“We’ve just received a bulletin from the DPH.”
A printer beside the console came to life. He pulled the page free.
“This bulletin supersedes all previous announcements regarding the proposed initiative known as The Purge.”
“The DPH has elected not to proceed with that proposal.”
“In its place, officials have approved a new public health initiative known as The Binge.”
He paused.
“This is all the information currently available.”
He continued reading.
“Beginning tonight, all citizens currently identified as GAVID-positive will receive notification through The Eye on You app that you’re required to keep.”
“Participants are instructed to remain at their registered residence.”
“Beginning at 6 a.m. tomorrow, two The Eye on You Compliance Officers assigned to each participant will arrive to provide transportation to their designated Binge Zone.”
“Participants are not required to bring any personal belongings.”
“Family members are reminded that escort procedures are not open to discussion, appeal, or delay, and you’ll be joining the a participant anyway.”
“The DPH thanks all participants for their continued contribution to a healthier tomorrow.”
David lowered the page.
“...that’s all we have.”
One line on the console began to flash.
Then another.
Then another.
Within seconds, every phone line in the studio was lit.
David reached for the nearest blinking button.
“WNTR.”
“You’re on the air.”
“Tell me about the Pepto,” a staccato voice manipulator whispered.
“What?”
“The Pepto!”
“It’s a medication.”
“THE Pepto you were texted about.”
“I don’t know —”
“Maple and Third. You know.”
David grabbed his chest.
The CCTVs in the office flashed, but he didn’t notice.
He hung up the call.
RING!
He answered.
“You’re live.”
“Tom said if something happened, we’d make something happen.”
“What?”
“You’re all going to get it. My eye is on you!”
Click!
David took a breath and grabbed his chest.
RING!
“You’re live!”
“David, it’s another friend of Tom’s. We’re coming for all of you!”
Click!
David hit mute and coughed. He pressed his fist to his sternum.
The CCTVs flashed. A light turned on.
Ring!
David took a breath.
“You’re live!”
“I know about the Pepto, and I’m a friend of Tom’s!”
David slammed the phone down. He flipped over a table and unplugged the phone.
He paced around the room, not noticing the camera’s follow his moves.
He looked at his phone. The Eye on You app telling him to scan the phone on the printer and read it off on the air.
He scanned, sat, and went back on the air.
“This just in folks. I’m to read a new announcement”
“Citizens, as part of the Binge, check your announcements on the app. I’ve been appointed to read it as well.”
Oh, they are on it, he thought.
“You don’t need to go anywhere. The DPH is already outside your door to escort you to care.”
How kind. DPH is doing it for them.
“Michael Ayers and your three kids.”
“Damon Bottlyn and Thomas Snopes.”
“Amy Schanue.”
–———-
–———-
–———-
–———-
“And lastly, David –”
He went silent.
He grabbed his chest.
Coughed.
The door to the office was forced open. Men in fatigues, masks, and automatic weapons circled his desk.
David scanned the room. The CCTV cams were zoomed in. His friends betrayed him. He wiped more sweat from his forehead.
“You’re coming with us!”
He coughed. “No! Please.”
The calls started lighting up.
A man in a suit came in last. He took a handgun and shot the transmitters. “It’s for your own good,” he said with a wink.
“But—”
A man grabbed his hand and picked a finger.
David’s whole arm shook.
“Okay okay,” David tried to get up, but more men sat him down. The man in the suit approached.
“We ask once.”
David went still.
Another man approached with a hammer and chisel. “Which hand do you write with, sir?” he asked.
David couldn’t look at his hand. He cried. “You’re going to kill me but want to be sure I can write?”
The man in the suit laughed. “No, heartburn killed you”
David’s vision blurred.
“I guess we pick the hand we want,” the man in the suit pointed to the right
David’s chest tightened.
The room spun.
He saw four of the chisel.
Then he—
Please leave a comment and restack.
Saving this post and exploring the links below helps our writing reach more people.
R.S.T. doesn’t have paid subs turned on, but won’t you pledge?
Click here to pledge!
Also by R.S.T.
James (HVR)
About me ←It’s a link
If you would like to support me and are able, please consider becoming a paid sub. You could also Buy Me a Coffee. If you can’t, it’s free to subscribe and share.
I’m published. Please consider buying my book. I wrote it in real time from my phone while I was in Colombia, while my marriage and life were falling apart, and while I was so ill I wasn’t sure I would make it.
Too Soon et pero Too Late: French Grace. American Collapse. Colombian Care.
Also by James (HVR)
This piece used two prompts from Alicia
 | A guest post by
|
This was hilarious. 🤣🤣
Mandemics seem like a likely scenario to me.