“What for?”
“He’s the one that got me moved off that assignment. I didn’t realize it at the time, but he saved my life.”
I smile. “You’ll probably see him before I do but yeah, that sounds like him.”
“Good luck,” she tells me and again leans close. “Something’s going on around here. I’m not sure what, but people are nervous.”
“The Hybrids?”
She shivers. “So far they keep us separated. The Hybrids are strictly for military purposes but increasingly I’m seeing them around the civilian areas.”
“I guess they’re not exactly suited for medical or childcare.”
“Yeah or serving food in the cafeteria.” She snorts. “But seriously, something is different.”
“Have you seen my sister?”
“Not like we used to. No more community meetings.” She shrugs and hands me a towel. “It’s probably nothing and I’m just way out of the loop. But it’s a feeling I’m getting.”
I shower, happy to wash the dirt and grime off my body. I’m covered in soot and dirt. Blood is caked beneath my fingers. The last week washes off of me and even with the dread in my stomach, I feel better by the time I put on a fresh set of clothes.
I expected to be given the same uniform as everyone else but not today. I’m dressed in a dull gray shirt and plain blue cotton pants. Flimsy, slide on slippers finish the prison look, and it’s clear as we exit the quarantine building and head to a tunnel I’m unfamiliar with, that’s exactly where I’m headed.
Chapter 24
My cell is part of the laboratory quarantine system on one of the basement levels of PharmaCorp. There are no windows and the doors bolt shut from the outside. I have a mattress on the floor and a stainless steel sink and toilet in the corner, connected to the Fort’s extensive plumbing system. Meals come three times a day, and after two days I’m not sure if there are other prisoners down here. So far I’ve only seen a series of rotating guards.
There’s a small sconce light next to the door but it seems to be on a motion timer. If I’m still for too long, the light flicks off and I’m just left with the small strip that comes from und
er the crack in the door. I don’t mind. I use the time to sleep. Surviving the apocalypse is exhausting and I feel safer behind this locked door than I have anywhere else in a long time. Maybe it’s knowing I’m in the belly of my enemy. Or maybe I’m just too tired to care. I do know that I have no desire to escape, and even though I tell this to the guards, they still treat me like I’m a level one threat.
I’m on my eighth meal when I hear the bolt slide. The door opens but I don’t stop chewing the hard piece of bread. “Get up,” the guard says. I don’t recognize him from before.
I grab the three pieces of chicken off my tray and shove one piece in my mouth and tuck the others up my sleeve. You never know when you’ll get your next meal.
At the end of the long hallway we step into a waiting freight elevator. I’m still leery of riding up and down in the enclosed boxes. Electricity isn’t reliable anymore—even here—and as we climb higher and higher my stomach churns with nerves.
I exhale when the car slows and we exit on a long, windowless hallway. The walls are painted a stark white and the floor carpeted in a similar shade. I think for a moment that I’m just in another cell, but I finally make out the door blended into the wall at the far end of the hallway. There are no other doorways, no wall décor and I’m utterly confused when the guard nudges me forward. “Walk to the door and wait.”
I stare at her. “Wait for what?”
“Just wait.”
She steps back into the elevator.
“You’re leaving?” I ask, but the shiny, steel doors close between us and I’m alone. I reach for the button pad and am shocked not to find one. Glancing over my shoulder, I see the door at the end of the hall. Out of options, I walk to the end of the hall and slide to the ground, sitting on the plush carpet, and for once, do as I’m told.
*
I wait for so long that I’m startled when I hear the click and I jump, banging my head against the wall. A thin line of drool is wet on my chin and yeah, I fell asleep in the hall of whiteness. I do manage to wipe my face and get to a standing position before the door opens fully. I’m not exactly surprised to see Jane standing in the opening.
What does stun me is when she pulls me into a tight, bone-cracking hug. I’m not even sure how to react to her thin arms wrapped around me. “Thank God you’re okay.”
“Uh,” I mumble into her shoulder. I’ve got my eyes on the room behind her and take in the comfortable, clean couches and small spotless kitchen. A wide wall of windows looks over the expansive Savannah River and I am dumbfounded by the luxury my sister lives in while the rest of the world falls apart.
She releases me and pulls me into the swank apartment. “I’ve been so worried,” she says, more flustered than I’ve ever seen her. “Are you hungry? I’m sure you are. I apologize for the meager meals. I didn’t want the guards to get suspicious.”
I watch her, in sheer confusion, as she walks into the kitchen and pulls out a loaf of homemade bread and a jar of peanut butter and even better, strawberry jam. Then a plate and silverware. Again, oblivious. I mean, who needs silverware when you have fingers? “I don’t keep a lot of food up here, but take what you want. There’s some dried fruit in the cabinet.”