Mila
All Mila wanted to do was ride the bus in silence, but instead she had some dude rambling on about a comic called Dystopia and the predictions it made about the future. Truly, she didn't give a damn, but listened to every painful word.
When the bus stopped near a hotel, he quietly passed her a piece of paper and exited the bus with a crowd of cosplayers. She never though there would be a time she would look back and wonder what more he knew.
Mila wasn't callous, she was simply having a difficult time. A number of children were admitted to the hospital she worked at, displaying the same symptoms as the virus at St. Louis. As much as they try to prepare you for the worst in healthcare, it doesn't make going through a crisis easy. The days were taking toll on Mila, mind, body and spirit.
After a long shift, she would stare out the window on the bus ride home, and ask herself what more could she could do. It was eating her up, watching kids die and seeing their families suffer.
Days started blending together, as she would repeat one horrific day after another.
Thankfully she had some peace on her break. Her evening snack came from Gus, the vending machine down the hall from the nurses station. Tonight they had a date, coffee, a gluten free protein bar and a banana. Throwing on a loose jacket, she hid away from call bells and busy co-workers, and took few minutes for herself. With a quiet place to close her eyes, she curled up on a chair and stuffed her hands into her pockets to keep them warm. Discovering a piece of paper, she pulled it out and unfolded it. On it was a phone number, with the words "The answers are with Utopia."
#Utopia?
Remembering the bus guys obsession with Dystopia, she wondered if Utopia was a follow up. Would it hold answers to the future as well? Answers to their current problem?
A code was called over the intercom, and the paper was quickly shoved back into her pocket as she ran down the hall. The answer would have to wait.
