On the floor next to the bag, someone had placed a folded white towel with gray sweats, a white tee shirt, a sports bra, panties, and a pair of flip flops on top of it.
The showers had water pressure and real hot water. They even had fresh bars of soap and a wash cloth. I scrubbed hard on my skin, hoping to get off any of the virus I might be carrying.
The shower felt incredibly good, except for the bite wound on my side. I scoured it, hoping to get out any infection, and it burned like crazy. I bit my lip to keep from crying, and the water pooling around the drain turned red with my blood.
I got dressed, feeling really clean for the first time in ages, and stepped through the door into the quarantine. Tatum and another soldier waited outside with Lazlo and Harlow. Harlow dressed the same as me, but Lazlo had gotten a pair of jeans. Somehow, he looked great, but I suspected he"d look great in anything.
“Hey,” Harlow smiled at me, pushing her damp tangles of hair behind her ears. Her gold cross glinted around her neck, and I was glad they didn"t take it from her. Suddenly, she threw her arms around me and hugged me tightly to her. “I wasn"t sure if you"d make it.”
“I"m okay.” I hugged her back for a minute, and then pried her off me so I could breathe again.
“Do you all plan on staying together?” Tatum asked, and Harlow and Lazlo looked to me to answer.
“Um, yeah,” I nodded. I didn"t check to see if they felt the same way, but after everything we"d been through, I didn"t see the point in splitting up.
“I"ll show you to your unit.” Tatum turned and led the way.
My stomach twisted when I realized Blue wasn"t with us. I"d never heard him yelling or any one making death groans, but that didn"t really mean anything. I wanted to ask about him, but Tatum was walking fast, so I swallowed hard and tried not to think about it.
I looked around for the first time. Tall brick walls lined the entire perimeter. Mobile home trailers filled the interior, like the ones FEMA sent out after natural disasters. A three-story cement building sat in the center, looking very square, official, and governmental.
Tatum weaved us down the paths between the trailers, and for the first time in so long, I saw real signs of life. Clothes hanging on the line to dry. A small child playing with a toy car in the dirt. A woman pushing back the curtains to watch us from her window.
Even though this place had an internment camp vibe, it also had something hopeful about it.
“This was the first quarantine set up,” Tatum explained when he saw us admiring the area around it. “It had been planned long before the zombie virus broke out, in the event of any kind of major pandemic. It"s the most advanced community in the world right now.”
“Huh,” Harlow said, summing up the awed shock we felt about that statement.
“Here you go.” Tatum stopped abruptly at a trailer.
It seemed almost at random, since the trailers were identical, except for varying shades between white, gray, and tan. Ours was gray, with black metal steps leading to the doorway. The numbers 1185 had been written on the door with black spray paint, and I guessed that was our address now.
“This is your unit. There is a mess hall in the center, by the main building.” Tatum gestured to the cement building to the left of our trailer. “That"s where all the meals and community activities take place. We have a garden you"ll be expected to work in, as well as various other tasks that will be assigned to you. Clothing will be appropriated to you. For now, just go inside, make yourselves comfortable, and Bishop will be along to help you get settled in.”
“Wait,” I said when he started to turn away. “When can I see my brother?”
“I was wondering how long it would take you to ask,” Tatum gave me a wry smile. “I"m not even sure that your brother is here. I"ll look into it and get back to you.”
“What about this Bishop person? Will he know?” I pressed.
“No. She doesn"t know anything about what goes on inside the building,” Tatum answered. “She just runs the day to day activities out here.” He nodded, then continued walking away.
“His name is Max King!” I called after Tatum. “He"s eight years old!” I wanted to see Max, but I didn"t have the insistent panic I had come in with. I had time to see him, and I didn"t want to make enemies of the people who could help me. So I didn"t chase after Tatum like I wanted to.
“Come on,” Lazlo put his hand on the small of my back so he could usher me up the stairs. “Let"s go see our new home.” Harlow dashed up ahead of us, but I looked grimly at Lazlo.
“Where"s Blue?” My stomach tensed, fearing the worst.
“He went into the main building. He"s medical staff,” Lazlo assured me with a smile.
“We all made it through.”