6. Taryn #2
The nurse brushed past me on the way to another patient, then leaned in and whispered. “You should withhold judgment until you’ve walked in his shoes.”
I gave her a blank look. Maybe she should keep her opinions to herself.
“What did you say to her?” a short, fat man, who had been one of the guards opening the door, asked in a rough voice.
“Nothing important, Rupert.” She sighed. “I just offered to get them a bottle of water.”
Gideon gave him a look. “Don’t speak to Harper that way. We don’t want to give our new guests the impression that we’re rude.”
I already had an impression, and it was getting worse by the minute.
“Harper, could you grab some alcohol wipes from the back?” the doctor, Finley, asked.
She rolled her eyes. “Yes, Finley. I live to please.”
He snorted. “That would be the day.”
Mace narrowed his eyes at them both, but neither paid him any attention. I bet that burned his ass.
Finley approached Lila and me. He had a faded CDC badge clipped to his coat pocket. Dark hair, glasses, probably in his early thirties. Clearly handsome if you prefer the smart, nerdy type who might enjoy doling out a spanking or two.
He didn’t interest me in the least.
Adrian was a beautiful nerd, and I’m sure he’d like to get his hands on my ass if the looks he’d been giving me were any indication. And even though I hadn’t decided whether I was going to let him, I considered the position filled.
“Any bites?” he asked me with professional detachment.
It was clear he’d been through situations like this more than once.
“No,” Lila and I answered together.
“Exposure to bodily fluids?”
“No.”
That was a lie because I’d killed five infected just a few days ago.
His attention centered on Lila. “Any fever?”
“No,” she answered immediately, then quickly glanced in my direction and away again.
Nice going, Lila, I thought to myself. She wasn’t very good at deception of any kind.
“And you?” His attention turned to me.
I hesitated, trying to decide what my smartest move would be.
“A while ago,” I answered carefully.
He might be able to determine whether I had contracted the fever through testing, and I didn’t want to be considered untrustworthy at this point.
“How long?”
“Several months,” I answered vaguely.
Around us, nearby conversations seemed to quiet slightly. When I glanced over, Mace was giving me heated looks.
Finley jotted something on the clipboard.
“Were you two girls alone, or were there other survivors with you?” He seemed almost hesitant to ask the question.
“No, it’s just us,” I replied quickly to prevent Lila from messing up the lie.
Was it my imagination, or did he look relieved at my answer?
“We’ll be back shortly, and you can take them to holding,” he said casually over his shoulder to Gideon. “Please follow me, ladies.”
Finley led us deeper into the building toward an examination room.
Lila leaned closer as we walked. “Why is everyone acting so weird?”
Because apparently surviving the fever was important.
But I only shrugged lightly. “Maybe they don’t get many visitors.”
Lila didn’t look convinced, but for now, it was important that I kept my observations to myself. I didn’t want her face to give us away.
Finley paused by a door and waved at someone inside. “We’ll need bloodwork and basic examinations.”
“Why?” I asked quietly.
He hesitated for a moment. “It’s just standard operation.”
Lie.
I sensed he had more to say, but was holding back.
He left as we stepped inside.
I was going to cooperate for now. Because fighting before I understood the rules here would be stupid.
And I wasn’t stupid.
The blonde nurse from earlier stood by the counter, preparing syringes next to several labeled blood vials. Up close, she looked younger than I had first thought. Maybe her early twenties. Faint exhaustion lined the corners of her eyes, but she still seemed composed.
It was obvious that she’d learned to function under any circumstances, even as the world burned down around her. It was clear she’d gotten good at coping, even when everything was falling apart.
The little girl from earlier was now in here, curled on a cot, playing with two Barbies that had seen better days.
She noticed me looking.
“That’s my daughter, Aurora,” she explained quietly.
“Rory!” the little girl shouted. “I’m four years old.”
“Rory,” the lady agreed with her daughter. “Now play quietly while I tend to these ladies.”
I couldn’t contain my smile even though our situation was looking grimmer by the second.
The little girl nodded. “Yes, ma’am.” She continued to play with her dolls.
“You bring your kid to work?” I asked lightly, fishing for any information I could get.
A faint smile touched her mouth as she tied off a piece of medical tubing. “Everyone brings their kids to work now.”
Fair enough.
She motioned toward the chairs near the wall. “Sit.”
Lila obeyed immediately.
I moved a little more cautiously.
She smiled reassuringly, her earlier anger forgotten. “I’m Harper.”
“Taryn.”
"Lila," she said, fiddling with her hair nervously.
Harper nodded once before swabbing Lila’s arm first. “I promise I’m not going to steal your organs, just draw a tiny bit of blood.”
Lila blinked, and I snorted.
Maybe she wasn’t a bitch after all. A sense of humor was hard to find these days.
“What exactly are you testing for?” I asked as Harper filled the first vial.
“Blood type, among other things.”
Not the answer I expected.
My eyes narrowed slightly. “Why?”
Harper glanced briefly toward the hallway before lowering her voice slightly.
“The fever changed people differently. Some survived it. Some turned, and some never got sick at all.” Her eyes flicked briefly toward Lila. “Those are usually the lucky ones.”
Lucky.
I didn’t know how lucky any of us were.
Lila shifted nervously in her chair. “So what? You separate people by categories?”
Harper hesitated slightly before answering. “People tend to separate themselves eventually.”
Interesting answer.