Contagious (30 page)

The shelter wasn’t cave-like at all. The halls were tiled, the walls painted white and the lights were ultra bright. Not cave-like, but very maze-like. I would get lost in here for sure. We weaved through a hall. Some of the doors were open. They reminded me of dorm rooms when I looked inside.

My head hurt from the fluorescent lights. My guide knocked on a closed, unmarked door. It opened instantly. An older man in formal military garb answered the door.

“
Orissa,” he said with a nod.

“
Uh, yeah?”

“
Please, come in.” He waved his hand inside. His office was painted in earthy tones, a nice break for my eyes from the sterile white of the halls. I sat on a leather armchair. Everything in here was clean and tidy, making my dirty state very salient. I felt like I was in trouble. I knew, this time at least, I hadn’t done anything wrong. “I’m Colonel Fuller. I’m more or less in charge of things around here.” He closed the door and sat. He smiled warmly at me. “Hayden vouched for you. I have to say, I’m quite impressed. And I heard you’ve had no formal training.”

“
Uh, no. What do you mean, vouched?”

“
I’ve never done this before. Hayden insisted it would be a waste for you to be anything but A1.”

“
A1?” Was that like S1? No…it didn’t make sense.

He chuckled. “No one’s explained the rankings to you?”

“
No. I don’t know much of anything about this place.”

“
My apologies. I’ll let you rest and clean up, then see to it Hayden fills you in on everything. You should know that being an A1 is something to be proud of. I hold all my A1s in high regard. You have expectations to live up to, Orissa.”

“
Uh, ok.”

He uncapped a pen. “What is your last name? Mind you, it can be anything now. But choose wisely, for it will be yours from now on.”

“
Penwell,” I said honestly. As soon as I was old enough, I had my last name changed from my douche-canoe of a father’s to my mother’s maiden name.

“
And your age?”

“
Twenty-five.”

“
Birthday?”

“
November 10
^th
.”

“
Thank you,” he said as he jotted down one more thing before getting up. Jones was waiting for me outside the door. It was just as much of an ordeal to get out of the basement as it was to get in. We went upstairs to the second story. Jones told me that due to overcrowding, the A1s got moved upstairs. He sounded a bit jealous as he spoke.

The house reminded me of Seth’s frat house in its size and design, though it was much, much cleaner. Each heavy, oak door had two name plates nailed onto it. We went to the very last room in the hall. UNDERWOOD was etched onto the top plate. The plate under it had been removed. I could only guess what had happened to Hayden’s roommate. Jones knocked on the door. It took Hayden a minute to answer.

Dressed in gray athletic pants and a black hoodie, he looked completely normal. Normal, and attractive. He pulled out his earbuds and turned off his iPod and smiled.

“
Orissa…come in,” he said.

I mumbled a thank you to Jones and went into Hayden’s room. It was tidy and orderly and almost pre-zombie looking. Two beds were pushed up against opposite walls, Hayden’s was to the left of the door. A large dresser was across from them with a nice sized plasma TV resting on the middle. The closet was open, revealing more clothing than I expected and an impressive display of weapons. A fairly full bookcase was next to the dresser.

“
You’re supposed to explain things to me,” I said simply.

“
Oh, yeah. Do you want to shower first?”

“
Am I that disgusting?”

“
Well, I wasn’t gonna say it…” he laughed.

“
You have no idea how much I want out of these clothes.”

“
There’s stuff for you on your bed,” he said, pointing.

“
My bed?”

“
You don’t know? We’re, uh, roommates.”

“
We are?”

“
If you have a problem with it, I’m sure we can get it changed. Maybe they can put you in with the other women or—”

“—
it’s fine. I can handle it if you can.” I went over to the bed. A towel, a little bag of toiletries, a brush, and a bottle of lotion had been set on it. “I need clothes.”

“
Oh, I guess Ender assumed you picked out your own. I can grab you something if you want.”

“
That would be wonderful.”

“
What size?” he asked quietly, as if he knew that was a rude thing to ask a woman.

“
I’m not sure anymore.” I had lost a lot of weight since my surgery. “I used to be medium.” Giving him actual numbers might be pushing it. I knew guys weren’t good with stuff like that.

“
I’m sure I can find something,” he said. “I’ll show you where the bathroom is.”

The bathroom was several doors down. Hayden told me that I had about ten minutes of hot water before it would suddenly go cold. I couldn’t describe how good it felt to shower. I scrubbed my body with soap, shampooed my hair twice, and slathered on conditioner, letting it soak in while I shaved my legs for the first time in weeks.

It took forever to brush out the tangles in my hair. I towel dried it the best I could before I pulled it to the side and braided it. I wrapped the towel around myself, brushed my teeth for probably ten minutes, and gathered up my filthy clothes, thinking burning them was a grand idea. I cracked the door and looked down the hall for Hayden. I waited a few more minutes. The bathroom was getting cold fast. Giving up, I dashed down the hall in just my towel.

Hayden wasn’t in our room and neither were my clothes he promised. Maybe it was because I was nearly naked with wet hair, or maybe it was just cold in the room. I shivered, causing goosebumps to break out across my skin. I investigated Hayden’s stuff while I waited for clothes. He had an interesting collection of books, most of them in the sci-fi genre along with a variety of movies. The closer I got to the window, the colder I felt.

The window, which was by the foot of my bed, had bars in it. It brought up a mixed feeling of safety and being trapped. I couldn’t see much of what was outside. The exterior of the house was well lit and, in the pool of light, it looked like a normal yard.

The door opened and I whirled around. Hayden’s eyes slid over me before he quickly cast them down. He held out a wad of clothes.

“
Finally,” I said trying to suppress my smile. It had been a long time since anyone looked at me that way. I took the clothes and held them up. He had brought me a pair of jeans, socks and a blue, plaid shirt. “And I’m supposed to go bra-less and commando?” I raised an eyebrow and half smiled. Hayden looked embarrassed.

“
Oh-I-I didn’t…even t-think about that,” he stammered, still staring at the ground. “I, uh, can go back.”

“
It’s ok.” I put my arms through the shirt, wincing as the fabric caught on the bandaged cut on my left wrist. When I pulled my legs through the jeans, I was reminded of how very sore my body was. It took effort to put on the socks.

“
Do the clothes fit?” Hayden asked, busy pretending to read while I got dressed.

“
Yeah. The pants are a little big, but that’s ok because I want to gain back the weight I lost.”

“
Wouldn’t most women be happy about losing weight?”

“
Most women haven’t spent the last few weeks starving and running from flesh eating crazy people.”

“
Very true. Hungry?”

“
That is an understatement,” I told him.

“
Good, me too. I can explain everything while we eat.”

After painfully putting my boots on, I followed Hayden down the hall, paying extra attention to where we were going. We went into the basement, through the security doors, and down the stairs. We turned left and walked along a quiet hall that seemed to stretch forever. The kitchen and cafeteria reminded me of something seen in a school. Like the rest of the shelter, it was a blinding white and smelled like cleaning products. Hand drawn pictures, obviously done by children, were taped up along the wall giving this place a more personal feeling.

Hayden opened an industrial sized fridge. “What do you want?”

It was strange, how exciting it was to pick something to eat. “I don’t care. As long as it’s not tuna or some plants I found in the woods, I’m fine.”

“
There’s left over lasagna,” he suggested.

“
That sounds incredibly satisfying right now.” My stomach grumbled. Hayden plopped a large piece on a plate and stuck it in the microwave.

“
You really survived on plants?”

“
Not entirely. We had venison jerky and so much canned tuna. I don’t think I can ever eat it again.”

“
How do you know what plants are edible?”

“
My grandpa taught me,” I explained.

“
He seems to have taught you a lot.”

“
Yeah, he did.” I sat at a table. Hayden poured two glasses of milk, set them down and brought over the lasagna. He turned away to heat up another piece for himself.

“
Where did you get the venison jerky? It’s not something you come across in stores very often.”

“
I shot the deer and made the jerky myself before we had to leave.”

“
You’re like one of those wilderness guys from TV,” he joked.

“
I am?”

“
Yeah, haven’t you seen the shows with the guys who get dropped off in the middle of nowhere and show you how to survive?”

“
Uh, no.” And I didn’t need to. I already knew how to survive. The microwave beeped. I had devoured most of my food by the time Hayden sat across from me. It was the blandest meatless lasagna I’d ever had. But it was warm and filling and didn’t come from a can. I could feel Hayden’s curious gaze while I finished my meal. I pushed the plate aside and drained my milk. “So, what do I need to know?”

“
There’s a lot,” he said with his mouth full.

“
I got that, genius. What’s an A1?”

“
It’s a ranking. Everyone is sorted into either A, B, or C, categories. A is for soldiers, B is medical and C is domestic, which entails things like cooking, keeping the place clean, inventorying supplies and taking care of the farm elements. A and B categories have numbers one through three. An A1 is what I—and you—are. We go on missions. A2s patrol the fields and farms where the animals are since they aren’t inside the shelter’s fencing. A3s are guards, like the ones by the gates and doors.”

“
So an A1 is kinda like the highest ranking?”

“
I guess you can say that,” he said, trying not to sound like it was a big deal. “And the Bs have three ranks: doctors, nurses, and medics. ‘Medics’ is used broadly for anyone with a medical background, like the veterinarians or anyone who’s worked in healthcare. We didn’t have any B1’s until now.”

“
And the C group? They don’t have numbers?”

“
No, work within that group is divided up as seen fit. Children, old people, or anyone with any sort of condition don’t leave the shelter’s protection. The fields are pretty safe and are always patrolled, but we don’t want to risk it.”

“
Does everyone have to do something?”

“
Yes and no. It’s not fair to make others do all the work so yes. But if someone can’t, we won’t make them.”

“
Who is ‘we’?”

“
Us. I can’t say this without sounding like a tool, but without us soldiers, this place wouldn’t exist. We make the so called laws. But nothing is horrible, I promise. You need laws and structure to keep a place like this going and under control.”

“
So is there like a real leader?”

“
You met Fuller, right? He gets the final say, I guess. He’s not interested in ruling or having power or anything of the like. He wants us to survive.”

I nodded. “So, how do you decide who goes into what category?”

“
Everyone is given time to rest after coming in, usually about a week depending on what condition they come in. Then they are tested.”

“
Tested?”

“
To find strengths and weaknesses. Really, Orissa, I know how this sounds. We want to put the most capable people in the right spots. Everything is done for the good of the community.”

“
What if someone has no skills?”

“
Everyone can clean.”

“
Ok. And once tested and sorted…who organizes who does what?” I asked.

He laughed. “They’ve been nicknamed ‘overseers’. We have nine right now but need more. It’s a tough job,” he admitted and crossed his arms. “They have to make sure everything gets done on time and that there is someone there to do it.”

“
Why didn’t I have to test?”

“
I talked to Fuller.”

“
He told me, but...why?”

“
I saw you out there. You fought so…so valiantly. You risked yourself for us and-and succeeded. You’re smart, cunning, quick…a real fighter. I know a soldier when I see one.”

“
Thanks,” I said, unable to look at Hayden. Those weren’t the compliments I was used to. “So everyone with me will be tested in a few days?”

“
Everyone except Patrick.”

“
Pad-rick,” I corrected. Hayden nodded in acknowledgement. “Tired?”

“
Among other things.”

He washed the dishes, grumbling that the ‘kitchen ladies’ get pissed when dirty dishes are left in the sink. We mazed our way back through the quiet halls. It freaked me out at how silent everything was. I felt dumb once I realized it was the middle of the night and everyone was sleeping.