The Dystopian Diaries

by K. W. Callahan

  The media is advising people to get to their homes and stay there. They’re telling everyone to avoid public transportation or other venues where people might be grouped together and spread the flu. But it looks like people are starting to panic. Grocery stores are overrun and shelves are bare. Gas stations are out of fuel. Hospitals are overwhelmed and understaffed. Police and fire departments are going berserk trying to handle the influx of emergency calls that include not just flu cases but a spike in the number of looting and arson-related incidents.

  It seems like things are kind of going off the rails. I really didn’t think it would be this bad. We have our few remaining security staff stationed at the hotel’s main entrances 24-hours a day to ensure that people don’t try to loot or vandalize the place. With grocery stores largely empty, people are already running out of food. They’re starting to get desperate, and this thing hasn’t even been going on that long yet. What will they do next week if things don’t get better?

  Staff morale seems pretty low. Who can blame them? No one knows what the hell is going on. We’ve had quite a few (relatively speaking, since so many people aren’t here) call offs. People can’t or WON’T take public transportation to work, and they’re afraid to drive since gas is limited and the number of car-jackings around the city has soared.

  In an effort to perk us up, Rick said we’re going to have a little get-together in a couple days. They’re calling it a “Mothball” party. From what he said, we’re going to have food, drinks, and then finalize the last few arrangements before abandoning ship. I have a feeling that walking out the Seville’s doors for the last time will feel a lot like climbing aboard a lifeboat on the Titanic. There will be relief paired with a whole lot of fear, sadness, and nervous apprehension for what lies ahead.

  September 5th

  2:49 a.m.

  Wow! I really can’t believe how fast this is all happening. I snuck up to my room (where I’m writing now) after lunch and put on one of the 24-hour news networks. Seems like every time I put on the news, flu related stuff has gotten exponentially worse.

  I’m wondering what will happen when they boot me out of the hotel. How will I get home? My apartment is a good seven or eight miles from the hotel. I could do it if I had to, but with the way things are looking around the city, I might not make it. People seem to be going bananas. It’s as if the normal rules of society are out the window.

  I was talking to a few people at lunch before I came up to my room. They’re not sure what they’re going to do either when the hotel closes. Thankfully, most of the people who stayed behind to work at the hotel don’t have close families. Many of those who do are long gone by now. At first, I thought they were lucky. They got to have an extended vacation with their loved ones. Now I’m not so sure. The news is saying that when one person in a family gets the flu, there’s a high degree of likelihood that the family members living with them will get it as well.

  Now I tend to think that those of us at the hotel are the lucky ones. While we might not have realized it, we’ve been kind of quarantined with a great cleaning regimen going on since this thing really started to balloon out of control. That could have been our saving grace. But once the hotel closes, then what?

  1:59 p.m.

  I’m back from another staff meeting. There were only about 25 of us there today. The remaining staff now outnumbers the remaining occupied guest rooms by nearly double.

  You could tell by the lack of conversation and the looks on people’s faces at the meeting that everyone is worried. But hotel employees aren’t the only ones with problems. I guess a few of the remaining guests are still here because they have no way to get back home. Most are from other states, and with airlines having cancelled almost all flights because of flu concerns, these people are left stranded. I feel bad for them. The hotel is working hard to find them rooms at a handful of hotels around the city that are attempting to make a go of it through the flu scare. Good luck!

  As for our own dear property, once the final few employees get the boot, and the place is shuttered, the city has apparently said it plans to have roaming patrols to help ensure the security of downtown businesses. And if you believe that, with what’s going on out there, I have a bridge to sell you. But that’s their answer, and for the moment, they’re sticking too it.

  The hotel doesn’t want to leave staff here to maintain the place due to security and liability concerns. They have hired a private security firm to have several guards keep an eye on the place, which reduces the hotel’s direct liability. Other than that, they’re just going to lock the doors, turn off the lights, and hope for the best. Insurance can cover the rest.

  Speaking of locking the doors and turning off lights, that’s what I helped do last night. Two of the last three open floors have been cleared of guests and have already had their rooms cleaned. It was the job of myself, Jerry (the night maintenance guy), and Manny (my manager) to go through all the rooms on those floors to ensure that curtains were closed, alarm clocks were unplugged, all lights were off, and thermostats were adjusted to the proper temperature setting. Not very exciting work, but necessary nonetheless to ensure that the hotel stays “green” (the politically correct and environmentally-friendly term for the hotel saving itself a few bucks).

  September 6th

  2:02 p.m.

  The last of the guests have been relocated to the few remaining open hotels around downtown. A city-wide curfew has been enacted from dusk until dawn. From the looks of things on television, the only people that want to be out after dark don’t have good intentions anyway.

  Rick apologetically told us that we are to be out of the hotel by noon tomorrow. Our farewell hotel “Mothball” party is scheduled for tonight at seven in the Lamp Light Lounge. Sounds good to me. I can get a couple drinks in me before my last shift. Not like I’m going to get in trouble at this point. Tonight, Manny and I will probably just sit up in his office and drink together anyway.

  This is our last hurrah. We are all aware of what sort of world we’re being tossed out into and the harsh realities that await us. Several people have vehicles here and have offered rides to others – me included. I politely declined because I have something else in mind, but we’ll get to that later.

  9:42 p.m.

  I’m just killing a little time before my final shift begins. People are still downstairs in the Lamp Light Lounge. It was a fairly subdued gathering. Most, if not all the conversation, revolved around the flu, what’s going on around the city and the rest of the country, and what people’s plans are once they get home. Absolutely no one is thrilled with the prospects of leaving the hotel.

  The excitement of the day, other than the chaos continuing to rage around the city, was that someone on the street shot out several of the hotel’s upstairs windows this afternoon. I heard the sound of the shooting while I was resting and got up to investigate. By the time I got to the floor where it sounded like the bullets were striking, several members of the security staff were already there, and the shooter down on the street outside appeared to be long gone.

  I helped the security officers get a couple pieces of plywood in place to cover the holes. With the way things are going, I have a feeling this is only the first in a long list of repairs we’re going to discover when this is all said and done.

  This flu outbreak looks like it’s going to cost a lot of people a lot of money. On the news, they’re talking potential trillions of lost dollars to the economy if things keep going the way they are. At this point, and for as crazy as it might sound, I think money is the least of people’s worries. Just staying safe is priority number one.

  There have been shots on the news from all over Chicago – as well as other cities across America and around the world – of the looting going on and the fires burning out of control. Makes me wonder how my apartment is doing. Glad I don’t have any pets or valuables to worry about. I mean there IS my television. I brought my cell phone and laptop to work with me. If they take my
television, I don’t think it will be worth the insurance deductible to file a claim. Maybe I could add a few non-existent “high value” items to the list. What the hell does the insurance adjuster know? God knows I’ve paid enough in renters insurance and never filed a claim. Maybe this is my chance for a little payback.

  I wonder how many of my co-workers I’ll see again when the hotel reopens. I wonder if any of them will get the flu. I’d think that in a hotel staff the size of the Seville, it’s almost a guarantee that some of them won’t be back. That’s weird to think about.

  I don’t think I’m the only one having these thoughts. That’s why it was so quiet down at the party. I think the full severity of the situation is finally hitting home. We all knew it was bad out there and getting worse, but being inside the hotel was kind of like being in a bubble. We remained fairly insulated and untouched in here. Like being on the Titanic, we thought we were unsinkable – until we hit the iceberg.

  Sitting down there in the lounge with my co-workers, drinks in hand, music playing, appetizers available, I wondered if it was how the passengers of the Titanic felt as the orchestra played while the ship went down. Or how the last few German officers felt taking shots of schnapps in Hitler’s bunker as the Russians stormed Berlin.

  While I hope things don’t get quite so bad as they did in those particular examples, I guess that only time will tell.

  11:03 p.m.

  Gunfire outside! Lots of it! Going to check it out.

  11:58 p.m.

  Manny and I went up on the roof to get a bird’s eye view of the action down on the street. I’ll write more about what we saw tomorrow morning.

  September 7th

  8:08 a.m.

  I just finished packing. I’m going to leave most of my clothes and other belongings at the hotel. Manny said I could store them in his office until we return.

  I’ve packed a “bug-out” bag, I think they call it. I smuggled some extra food from my last few meals just in case. And I stole a couple flashlights from property operations, some bottled water, a sharp knife from the kitchen, and some basic medical supplies from the front office. This way I won’t be left completely high and dry if I have to try to make it back to my apartment. But that’s only a last resort at this point. As I mentioned earlier, I have a plan. I’ll hide out until dark and see if I can carry it out. I’ve got a place all picked out near the hotel’s loading dock.

  If this works out, I’ll write more tonight. If it doesn’t, well, I guess whoever finds this journal can fill in the blanks for themselves.

  So back to all the commotion last night. I knew it was bad because we could hear the gunfire from the street when we were in Manny’s office on the hotel’s 18th floor. We decided (since his office window doesn’t open) to run up to the hotel’s rooftop one floor above. From there, we could look down on the street. While it was hard to see since it was night, we could see a crap ton of police vehicles. There is a convenience store and drug store located right across the street from the hotel, and it appeared a mob was trying to loot them. I guess someone started shooting, and the cops weren’t having any of it. We could see flashes of gunfire coming from all over the place, up and down the street. We couldn’t tell the cops from the looters. It just looked like a bunch of little black ants running all over the place with flashes of light issuing from them.

  After about ten minutes, things seemed to finally have calmed down and the shooting stopped. By the time we made it down to street level, they were already covering up the dead with sheets and assisting the wounded (at least the wounded police officers). Ambulances arrived several minutes later, but then the shooting started again. I guess some people were trying to car-jack the ambulances of all things. With gas stations having run out of fuel, any running vehicle has suddenly become more valuable.

  At that point, Manny and I retreated to the lobby. We feared being struck by stray bullets or being taken hostage by looters. After a few more minutes, the shooting subsided again, police having apparently gained the upper hand.

  Manny and I then went up to the hotel’s lounge on the second floor. It has windows that face out over the street. From there, we counted at least eight people covered with white sheets. We couldn’t determine which ones were cops and which ones weren’t. There had to be at least a dozen or more wounded people being loaded into ambulances.

  So now I’m just sitting here in my room, the news playing on the television as I prepare for my last meal down in the employee cafeteria.

  The news broadcasters are saying that it’s unclear just how many flu cases there are across the Chicago area. They’re estimating the number to be at least well into the thousands but probably much higher, likely tens of thousands. They said that specifics are impossible to pin down at this point because hospitals are either overwhelmed, no longer accepting patients, or are closed altogether. This means that they are also no longer providing statistics regarding the spread of the flu.

  As of late last night, the governor of Illinois has declared a state of emergency and the localized curfew in Chicago has been expanded statewide. Things are definitely not sounding good at this point. Makes me real glad I’m being ousted from the hotel today of all days (NOT!). Hope I don’t get shot by the police for being out after curfew. That’d be about right. Avoid the flu only to get shot by the cops.

  I’ll write more later…I hope. Now it’s time to eat as much as I can and at least TRY to enjoy my food. I have to admit, even with my plan ready to go, I still find myself very nervous. It’s not every day you find yourself thrust out into what looks to be fast becoming one of the biggest pandemics in US history.

  10:09 p.m.

  This is the first chance I’ve had to write since I was booted from the hotel earlier this afternoon. And what a day it has been.

  So after breakfast, I came back up to my room and did my best to take a nap (even though I was too nervous to sleep). At a little before noon, I went downstairs to say goodbye to the rest of the staff.

  Manny offered to give me a lift before he realized his SUV had been vandalized and was no longer running. Several other staff vehicles had either been stolen or vandalized to the point that they were no longer drivable (slashed or stolen tires, siphoned gas, etc). Real nice sendoff.

  But it didn’t matter to me since I had no intention of going far anyway. After saying my farewells, collecting my pack, and doing a quick inspection of the streets around the hotel, I quickly made my way down the block and cut around the corner. Then I ducked back down an alley that runs between several buildings and eventually passes the hotel’s loading dock. This took me a whole minute from the time I initially left the hotel.

  To one side of the loading dock’s garage-style doors that are all down and locked, there are several piles of old mattresses. These have been removed from the hotel and are waiting to be hauled away. They are stacked along one of the hotel’s exterior walls and there is just enough room for a person to squeeze in behind them.

  This little crevice became my holdout until darkness fell. The spot was hot, uncomfortable, and frankly frightening. Listening to the sounds of the city all afternoon and evening from this position was pretty crazy. It was amazing just how many people came through the alley throughout the day, many of them not the sort of people I would choose to associate with. But they were the kind of people I would expect to be out roaming the city during a pandemic. Sometimes I could catch a bit of what these people were saying as they passed. Mostly, their conversations revolved around how bad the flu outbreak was, places they were going to loot, places they had looted already, or spots that still held potential for looting. Sometimes they talked about the violence they had wrought or damage they had incurred during their flu-outbreak excursions.

  Most of these people seemed quite brazen in the promotion of their acts of carnage. They were probably trying to impress their buddies as they traveled to their next scene of destruction. One guy was recounting his activities stealing cars. Another wa
s talking about the various electronics he’d managed to accumulate during his looting. And, from what I could gather as one particular group took a moment to jump on and kick the mattress pile behind which I sheltered, another guy was saying that he and a buddy of his were going to join a sort of vigilante group that was going door-to-door to search for and dispose of flu victims. They were going to “clean house” as he put it. I heard someone else in the group congratulate him, saying something along the lines of, “If the government isn’t going to do anything about the flu, at least HE was.” The guy’s reply was something to the effect of, he wasn’t doing it to be helpful, he just wanted to have the chance to “shoot some people and steal their shit” as he so gracefully put it. Of course this got a rousing response of approval from the group he was with while sending shivers up my spine as I hunkered behind my mattress hideout.

  During their detour at my mattress stacks, this group managed to knock over a sizable portion of the stack that I was hiding behind. But I was prepared for such an eventuality. Before I even arrived to the mattresses, I could foresee something like that occurring. With the amount of vandalism going on across the city, I could just envision the mattress stacks as an inviting target for being knocked over, or worse yet, being lit on fire. Thankfully, the later didn’t happen; but when the former did, I was ready. Before I left the hotel, I took some garbage bags, old rags, and mop heads from the housekeeping department. Once I made it to the mattress stacks, and before I squeezed in behind them, I opened up the garbage bags, sprinkled the old rags and mop heads atop the bags so that it just looked like random hotel garbage, and then pulled them up over and around me to conceal my presence once I was inside. I thought about using actual food scraps to help camouflage my spot, but I was afraid food would draw rats, an undesirable aspect of city living.