Hide and Seek

a short story about a sickness that makes us hunt for the one we love most

Day 6: Made camp in satellite control tower. Found gun in desk. I should weld door shut after I fix generator. Don't trust myself not to open for Daniel.

Day 9: Generator working. Power low. From tower I spot seekers in surrounding wheat fields, walking who knows where. Satellite shows dozens more. Thought I spotted Daniel’s red baseball cap in town 30 miles out, but image grainy. No sign of hiders. No sign of anyone untouched by sickness.

Day 12: saw hider running in field today, seeker following close. Got caught on perimeter fence. He begged, "Please, Diana. You're sick." She smiled like a child at play. "Ready or not," she said. "Here I come." reminder: weld door shut.

Day 15: Generator at 30%. Pretty sure I spotted Daniel on satellite 20 miles out. Was Up all night crying. How does the sickness pair hiders and seekers? How does it know who it hurts most to run from?

Day 17: Definitely him. 12 miles and closing. Generator at 12%. Should conserve power, but can’t. I know he’ll kill me, but it comforts me to watch him.

Day 19: Generator dead, but no matter. Daniel 6 miles away. Still haven't welded door shut. Why not? Maybe sickness is a game with rules we must follow. Can hiders kill their seeker? I practise loading gun.

Day 20: Watching Daniel approach through binoculars. Looks too thin, too pale, smiling all wrong, but i can’t look away. Gun is loaded, oiled. I can hear him on the stairs, now at the door. "Ready or not," he says. I raise the gun, but I’m not sure who I’m pointing it at. Oh my boy, my sweet Daniel. Here I come.

Short story written by Peter Chiykowski

Story prompt taken from a photo by Marat Gilyadzinov