No Okies from Oklahoma, or Bennies from New Jersey.

Phil Baider is sweating, in his apartment, over a blue 2009 Prius on Queens Craigslist. It’s the end of the world and the seller listed it as not only "excellent,” but with “new tires. Under 100,000 miles." A steal in a constricting market. He and his wife Trudy had been locked inside their apartment for over three months because of city-wide quarantine.

“We’re getting this car, and we’re getting the hell out of New York for Memorial Day weekend.”

Phil, more than once, has entertained the idea of leaving the quarantine zone. Both times without his wife. As of a week ago, all NYC residents are allowed to leave quarantine through the GW Bridge security checkpoint, as long as they have a car and aren’t sick with the virus. Which meant that beyond the quarantine zone, Phil might also get some breathing room from Trudy, so he could check on his Sugar Daddy™ messages – a sexting app. His favorite account was Ana. They had been chatting since the start of the virus. Trudy, on the other hand, just wanted to get away, to get a decent motel with central AC. She wanted a reprieve from the heat and claustrophobia of their tiny apartment. She wanted “me time” again. Despite her eagerness to buy the car, however, she was practical.

“What about the 7 pm curfew? Or registration? Everything’s closed.”

“I already found a place that’ll do it. We’ll head out Saturday morning.“

When the virus first hit, it only impacted teenagers. No one knew where it came from, or how it got so bad. Common symptoms were extreme diarrhea, vomiting, and fatal dehydration. The only medical advice given was to stay away from people in quarantine zones, and always wear masks and gloves. Rumors spread that it came from wild animals or contaminated food. To keep people safe, curfews and quarantine orders were imposed. After 90 days of national lockdowns in major cities, some restrictions were lifted, and those who were not sick were free to leave quarantine. This car was their ticket. Their way to get back to normal.

The next day, the man from Queens, accompanied by his girlfriend, arrived in front of their apartment, greeting them without gloves or a mask.

“We hit traffic.”

“Totally fine,” the Baiders said.

"You know this virus is bullshit, right? Got people driving like assholes. Be careful.” He said in an intense New York accent.

“Totally,” they agreed, but really wanted to finish and have him leave, so they could inspect the car like thieves.

“You’re doing me a favor. I want to get rid of it so I can get a new one for my daughter. She’s getting her degree. She needs it for work.”

Only interested in the car, the Baiders mindlessly said, “Cool! Same!”

The transaction was over in a few short minutes, and the man from Queens was gone, never to be seen again. The next morning, while Trudy made breakfast, Phil texted Ana from his bedroom.

She sent a video of herself lip synching in her mirror, fully nude, except for a heart shaped locket around her neck. She was beautiful, and had an hourglass figure, like a pinup girl from the 50s. A stark contrast to the lean, plain version he had at home.

“What’s in that locket?”

“I’m completely naked and you care about that locket?”

“Tell me”

“Gonna cost you”

Suddenly, from the other room:

“Phil! Let’s go! We need to beat traffic!”

They made a last-minute reservation at a motel near the Delaware Water Gap. Phil planned to check out a creek recommendation from friends in the area. It took an hour to get from their apartment to the GWB. On their way, they drove through sections of the city heaviest hit by the virus. It was something out of a movie. Utterly bone chilling. Above them, as they crossed, flashing signs read “Mask up,” “Mind the curfew,” and “Keep phones clean,” The Baiders had seen curfew and mask notices before, but the phone notice confused them. At the security checkpoint, their temperatures were taken, and asked two simple questions.

“Where are you going? Are you sick?”

“No”

“Cleared. Please mind the curfew.”

Just like that, they were now outside of quarantine for the first time in what felt like years. A kind of freedom they never thought they would miss. At the halfway point, they stopped for gas. When they were about to leave, the check engine light went on. They turned the car off and on, and it disappeared, thinking nothing else of it. When they arrived at the motel an hour later, they dumped their gear and went out to an early dinner before heading to the creek. At dinner, Phil took every opportunity to check his notifications. Hiding in the bathroom, he sent her a $50 tip to get her attention. Nothing. Another for $20. Nothing. Phil came back to the table defeated, and as he was about to finish his drink, a waiter came by.

“Sir, I regret to inform you that another patron informed us you used your phone in the bathroom.”

“WHAT?” Phil said loudly, now as red as a sunburn.”

“Please remain calm, and leave. We can’t have people bringing their phones in bathrooms for safety reasons.”

Bothered by the entire exchange, Phil dropped a $100 bill on the table to pay. Well over the amount likely due.

“Keep the change,” he said indignantly.

“Sir, your money's no good here. We cannot accept anything from your person, due to virus concerns. If you do not pick it up, we’ll have to call the authorities.”

Humiliated, and absolutely spooked, they headed back to their motel to change into their swimsuits. Trudy, however, had other plans, and decided to stay back. She said her stomach was in knots. From the toilet, with the door open, she read search results aloud:

“Don’t see anything online about phones and the virus. Either way, if it’s true, this article says if you get sick outside of quarantine, and spread it, they throw you into solitary confinement for 30 days. Ten days longer than if they catch you past curfew. We’re probably better off staying in.”

A recommendation she knew would force him to leave. Right on cue, he insisted on visiting the creek by himself, assuring her that he’d be back before curfew. As soon as the door closed, Trudy sprung from the toilet, cleaned herself, and jumped into bed. With the AC at its lowest, she pulled the covers up, and flipped on the TV, smiling from ear to ear.

Phil’s phone, now at 54% battery, indicated that the creek was a 15-minute drive. He’d arrive by 5:30 pm, with more than enough time to beat curfew. When he arrived, the spot was packed full of people; a beautiful and strange sight for someone stuck inside for so long. In prior years the creek was mostly empty, visited by locals, but due to its proximity to the city, and this year’s extreme heat, the creek was more popular than ever. Phil felt a certain validation seeing so many attractive people his age, having fun together. He had wished Trudy had been there to see it, so that he could gloat.

A familiar face appeared:

“Hey Phil, didn’t see you there!”

Rick was an old acquaintance from college. He stood handsomely next to his attractive girlfriend Tee. They were something from a brochure for a gentrified neighborhood. He had a perfectly shaved mustache, and was lean. Tee wore all black everything: nails, hair, makeup, swimsuit; stunning. They chatted for a bit, and made small talk, sharing their experiences about quarantine. Rick and his other local friends offered him moonshine, but cautioned Phil to drink it slow. Otherwise he’ll get lightheaded and pass out. Phil was so wrapped up in conversation, he lost track of time, and of how many sips he had.

“Have you heard about the virus and phones? What the hell is that about?” He asked the group.

“What do you mean? Everyone knows the virus is from phones? Do you live in a bubble?” Said one shirtless man.

“Kind of. I was in quarantine, but I haven’t heard anything about it”

“It’s your phone man, thurr dirty. We bring ‘em into toilets, put ‘em on gross shit. Then we touch our faces. That’s the reason why everyone is sick!”

“What the hell do you mean? Plus, how does some hick from the woods know more than me? You Pennsylvanians are nuts!”

Just then, everyone within earshot stopped talking, and all eyes were on a drunk Phil.

“Listen, we don’t need no Okies from Oklahoma, or Bennies from New Jersey, coming here, shouting at us. We’ll kick your fucking ass. Rick, get your boy. Tell him to kick rocks.“

“Listen Phil, I think you should pack it in.”

“Fuck you all!”

Phil tossed his jar, and stormed back to his car, puking everywhere. The car wouldn’t start. Panicked, he checked his phone. It was 6:15 pm and his battery was at 35%. He had accidentally opened an app, and streamed an entire movie on silent. He walked back full of shame, and asked Rick for a ride. In Rick’s pickup, Tee and a puke covered Phil headed back to the motel, taking a different route to get gas.

When Rick parked, he said, “You two stay in the car”, and jokingly said, “don’t fuck each other.” then laughed to himself. The minute Rick walked away, Tee grabbed ahold of Phil’s crotch telling him that, “if he said anything to Rick, she’d fucking rip his cock off,” and began to go down on him. He couldn’t get an erection. She yelled at him again, “I fucking swear if you say anything, I’ll fucking kill you, now cum for me!” He did, and she swallowed. It could not have been more than 5 minutes before they were done. Rick came back to the car. When he opened the door, he said, “Smells like pussy in here,” and almost laughed himself out of his seat. He thought it was hysterical. They drove silently until they hit a light. Rick said, “Despite being covered in puke, you aint half bad. Good seeing you.” Phil nodded silently. while Tee screamed, “He tried to fuck me, and told me not to tell you!” and started crying. Rick lunged across and almost killed Phil. Tee was still crying but laughing at Phil behind Rick. She slid into the driver seat and drove. Phil apologized and strenuously denied it. “Honest man, I swear I didn’t, I swear!” Still moving, Rick opened the door, threw him out of the car, and sped off. In shock, Phil rolled over, and tried to collect himself. Catching his breath, he took out his phone, to find that he had cracked most of his screen. Now 6:30pm, he had less than a 1/2 hour before curfew. He was too embarrassed to call Trudy. With his last 25% of battery, he opened Sugar Daddy™.

“Where are you!!?”

“WAS @WORK. Just got home and saw ur texts. WOW.”

“Send me something. I need it.”

“I thought you wanted what’s in the locket?”

“YES. Tell me.”

“I told you, that’s extra”

“How much?

“$500”

Just like that, Phil transferred $500 from his joint savings account. She sent a picture.

When he opened it, his heart sank. In the locket, was a picture of the man from Queens.

“That’s my dad, I love him so much.”

Phil almost threw up again. He deleted the app, threw his phone into the woods, and started walking. As he walked up the dark street alone, and broken, he heard branches snap, fireworks in the distance, and the sounds of the curfew sirens getting louder.