Spring 2021. The grandkids have just left for Manchester. We’d put some irradiated food, water, tea, coffee and a kettle in the greenhouse for them while we stayed mainly in the house. We talked via our Ring Intercom and Skype. We’ll let the sun and an extra UVC light decontam the greenhouse for a day or two before we go in with SCBA to finish off, pick up the paper plates and cups and put them in the incinerator.
Outside in the street six or seven young Antivaxer people are defying the 5 metre rule and jostle each other on their way down to the Covid 21 Club Speakeasy bar. My phone beeps its Covid alert warning. I get it out and open the screen. Three arrows! Three of them have fake chinese testers! Not only that, two of them are carrying, infected with, the 21 virus! If it was up to me I’d let them get on with their herd immunity thing. My catapult and taser are close to hand. However the app has alerted someone else. A Police Drone buzzes over head and two Covans appear. Suited occupants jump out. The AV youngsters scatter. Too late, they go down in a muddle of fired CO2 capture nets. Soporific darts are fired into their legs. The vans close up. Hydraulic lifting arms reach out and swing the netted captives into a separate compartment of each van. The team leader salutes me and they leave. I am awarded a month’s supply of bread, milk, wine and beer for my civic duty. Tradeable on Gumtree, Covebook or the Splitter App but I won’t. My phone is secure with its Cov.UK app for now but I know the AV are looking for me.