Home

Tora inspected the bruises under her eyes and above her eyebrows, she pulled her cheeks between her teeth to stretch the muscles that had been suctioned under the protective equipment. The young doctor made her way towards the Q-Ward exit and leaned her worn body over the reception desk to take the sign-out sheet.

Time: 4:10am

Date: 16/05/2027

No one thought it would last this long, they thought they had the technology, advanced medical resources, and manpower. But the virus knew better. The virus had a plan that no human would get in the way of, it was smart too. Sometimes it would pretend to be weak, it would come so close to death that we would celebrate finding the vaccine and broadcast it internationally. Then, as soon as it feels the excitement, it sees the tears of joy, it hears the “I’m coming home” calls, the virus comes back. It returns tenfold stronger, more contagious, a whole new array of symptoms and death doesn’t creep in anymore, its faster than the sunset. Tora knew this because it stole little sister, Alta. She was fourteen and invincible, living in Home 1, the safest Home where all the young and “immune” were sent during The Solution. Alta was in the first batch of testing for immunity and she had passed with ease, three months of trials, injecting the virus and immersing her in every way possible. But in her first week of school in Home 1 she tested positive and that was it. Home 1 was evacuated, and all students were sent into solitary quarantine for one year. Alta was transported to Home 10 where all positives go for “treatment” a term scientist coined because “research lab” was confusing to the public. Alta left Home 1 at 4:30pm and gripped Tora’s hand for the last time at 6:20pm,

“The sunset is nice here, Tora.” Alta’s short life had come to an end.

Though the virus has one weakness, it will give up eventually. There will be a final vaccine. The frontline swears it, so they keep fighting. For the past seven years that had fought for this, they will never give up.

Tora slipped off her socks and stepped into the sterilisation chamber. She raised her arms above her head and the warm water jets began their task, the smell of chlorine flooded her senses and she let out a deep breath. The jets pulsed down her long legs, killing any germ that managed to find its way under the PPE. With a final spray of sanitiser, the shower chamber’s doors opened, and Tora followed along with the electronic voice,

“Thank-you for your help, tomorrow is a new day.”

Finally, she could be outside. Home 10 had arguable the best environment, rarely touched by any doctors and never by patients. Thousand-year-old trees were unkept, their roots tearing through the soil below making uneven bumps and lumps for metres on end. Moss and vines climbed high on apartment buildings and hospitals making the outside appear deceivingly beautiful, veiling the sorrows that were held the behind the wall.

It was a twenty-minute walk to Tora’s apartment; she was often questioned why she would use her outside time allowance on a walk home for work instead of safe-sports or masquerades. It reminded her of her student life in Canada, when it still went by that name, now its Home 2, where the world's top scientists live and work. Tora was studying to be a Doctor when the virus took over, she had one year left of residency in her father’s hospital, The Raymond Daniels Wellness Centre. Her and her father would walk home together when they could, discussing her studies and what she had learnt that day. She remembered the conversation; Raymond knew well before the media what was coming so he prepared Tora as best he could. He told her that she might not graduate this year, but she will have a career in medicine for the rest of her life, though it won’t be anything to do with what she studied. Tora remembered her state of denial that lasted for weeks, she ignored what was something happening in the hospital, entire wards being sanctioned off, containers with years’ worth of PPE delivered in mere days, medicine supply cupboards were overflowing. One month after the conversation, the entire world had shut down.

Tora now lived in an apartment block with three other doctors which was the maximum amount of people allowed in one residential building. Each had their own floor, equipped with a full-size kitchen, huge one person bedroom and bathroom, gym and Virtual Reality Game room. After The Solution, The Carers invested $1 million into Home 10 for hospitals and homes for immune doctors, in hopes they would leave their families for a better life, trying to save the lives of virus victims. Tora didn’t bother watching the advertisements, before she even found out she was immune, her father had transport booked and an apartment waiting for her in Home 10. There was no way the daughter of Raymond Daniels, creator of the longest lasting vaccine (nine days), had a choice in what Home she lived in.

The Solution happened in 2025, the virus’s fifth year of life. All the Heads of governing systems in the world joined to form a group called “The Carers”. There were no longer Presidents, Senators, Governors or Prime Ministers, The Carers all became anonymous. The solution to living with the virus was eliminating countries and turning them into “Homes”. Home 1, Old Europe, was for the immune, no restrictions, the world is as it was. Once you are found to be immune after one year of trialling, you are offered a free study programme to become a doctor and fight the virus or pay $20,000 to move to Home 1 forever. Though at that time, Tora could have afforded to move, she was not given an option and was sent to Home 10. Only Doctors and patients live on Home 10, all positive cases are sent to be worked on. Raymond donated all their present and future money to finding the vaccine, The Carer’s rewarded him and his wife with a top tier apartment in Home 2, and free access to all food, amenities and entertainment. Now, even if Tora wanted to move to Home 1, there was no money to allow it.

Tora wrapped her hand around the doorknob of her front door, she felt the heat spread to her fingertips as the virus detector initiated, ten seconds passed before she heard the click of her door unlocking. Despite being immune, high precautions still remain in place.

“Welcome home Tora, thank-you for your help” the Home Assistant greeted her, and the apartment began filling with light. She slipped off her sneakers and found herself a space on the white couch. Rubbing her eyes, she fell backwards and let her eyes rest, the faces of each victim she lost today flicked through her mind like a montage. Tora had grown accustomed to this routine, she would name each one and they passed, wishing them safe travel to the next life and a ‘sorry I couldn’t save you.’ Her thoughts were interrupted by the Home Assistant,

“Tora you have an incoming call from Home 2: Barb and Raymond Daniels, Mum & Dad.”

Tora sat up straight and looked ahead to the space between her and her bookshelf, she pulled her shirt down where it had ridden up and responded,

“Accept call, please.”

A coloured light flickered in the empty space, her parents blurred figures adjusted for a few second until they were clear, as though she could reach out and feel their warm touch again. Tora’s Mum mirrored how she was sitting, cross legged on the couch, her glasses perched on her nose. She squinted; the connection had not reached her end yet. Her face suddenly lit up, seeing her daughter, in all her natural beauty. Tora’s had cut her hair, the brown locks no longer cascading down her shoulders. It suited her. Barb could see the toll the work took on her daughter. Her soft brown eyes now black and hard, the purple and brown bruises looked painful, her shoulders rigid. Barb's heart still ached each time they called, though today was different.

“Dad, what are you doing here?” Tora questioned. Every call for the past seven years, bar birthdays, Raymond had been in the background, writing in his little black notebook. Only popping his head up to say hello and goodbye, the guilt of talking to his daughter in Home 10 was too unbearable for the scientist.

Raymond’s knuckles were white while he gripped the black notebook and his fingers slipped against the moleskin, a rare smile teased at his wrinkled cheeks.

“Tora, we’ve done it,” Raymond said in one exasperated breath. Tora didn’t move, she didn’t feel any excitement, she’d heard these words before. They’d been broadcast to the nation three years ago, she’d felt the hope shrivel in her heart as she was escorted off the bullet train and back to her apartment.

“Dad, not again. Please, I know you –”

“Tora,” the old scientist shook the black notebook with both hands, “three-hundred and sixty-six days I’ve been recording the virus’s movements, it hasn’t even twitched.”

Now Tora moved, her hands shot to her mouth and she looked at her Mum for reassurance. A muffled laugh slipped from Barb’s mouth and tears flowed while she nodded her head. Tora let out a scream and dropped her face into her hands, she hadn’t seen touched her parents in five years. Barb would no longer have to imagine what it felt like to wrap her arms around her now only daughter, to smell her familiar scent and hear her cackle. She felt a pang in her heart at the thought of Alta and more tears came.

The longest the virus had “died” was nine days, even then it was still moving, mocking each scientist that dared peer into its life. One year of no movement, for the first time in seven long, dreadful years, the virus was dead. Raymond Daniels had succeeded.

The Home Assistance interrupted the family’s chatter,

“Tora, a transfer has been made to your account for the sum of $20,000.”

Tora cried harder, every sob a release of pain and every sharp intake of air a new hope for the life that lies ahead. A million scenes played in her mind; what she would do, who she would love, where she would work, her parents and Alta. Gratitude filled her, she stared at the black notebook her Dad held so tight. She imagined the pages full of his scribbled handwriting, his exquisite knowledge spilling into letters and numbers and the script of the virus’s slow, inevitable death as the vaccine worked.

“The information will be released publicly tomorrow from The Carers, the train will arrive for you in one hour to take to you Home 1, we will meet you there as soon as we can. Do not tell anyone, do not speak to anyone.” Raymond’s stern words broke the speechless silence that had settled in their excitement.

“See you soon,” Tora waved goodbye to her parents and the lights flickered off for the last time.