Page 190 of Immune

“So is every other fucker here. We gonna start bonding over it?” I volley with a little bite to my words that doesn’t go unmissed.

Ewan mutters under his breath, quiet enough that only I catch it, “Hell yeah. There you are.”

Valeria’s expression remains completely unreadable, especially when she demands, “Everyone goes through medical clearance before they enter the main compound.”

“Yeah, no thanks,” I mutter lowly.

“It wasn’t an offer,” the woman counters, and my pulse kicks.

Fletcher shifts next to me, and I feel the movement without even needing to look over at him. Valeria seems to notice it too, because her eyes cut to him and she demands, “Problem?”

“Depends,” Fletcher says. “What does this medical clearance involve?”

“Bite checks. Fever screening. Wound assessment. Basic infection control. No one enters population areas without the necessary clearance,” Valeria explains in clipped sentences.

“That include removing masks?” I ask bluntly.

“Yes.”

“No.”

The word slips out a little too quickly. A little too sharp. And I notice several weapons raise half an inch for it.

Kaito’s gaze drops to the guards’ hands. Xeon’s face doesn’t change, which somehow manages to make him look more dangerous. Ewan doesn’t utter a single word. And Fletcher’s voice stays completely calm as he says, “He’s been exposed to smoke, blood, Zeds, and Vector chemical masks. If you crowd him, he’ll get difficult.”

“Already there,” I warn.

Valeria looks at me without an ounce of sympathy. “Everyone gets checked.”

My throat tightens.

Everyone gets checked.

Everyone gets counted.

Everyone gets sorted.

Everyone gets put where someone else decides they belong.

I can smell the disinfectant from the building behind her. It’s sharp and clean, but under it there’s something chemical. Something medical. Old fear soaked into the walls that no amount of scrubbing and cleaning will ever remove.

Blockers.

I need blockers. Information. Exits. Not a fucking room with locked doors and strangers asking me to strip away every single layer that’s keeping me alive. That has been keeping me alive for six damned years.

The pilot chooses that very moment to groan, and his knees buckle. Xeon catches him before he hits the ground and for half a second, everyone’s attention snaps to him.

Damn. Saved by a dying man. Very beautiful. Poetic, really.

Valeria turns and shouts suddenly, “Medic!”

Two people come rushing out of the building with a stretcher between them. One is a woman with short red hair and a white armband. The other is a young man carrying a medical bag and looking like he hasn’t slept since he vacated the womb. Man, I feel that so hard.

They reach the pilot and go to work fast. Way too fast for me to even find a fault with it. The red-haired medic checks his pupils and mutters, “He needs surgery.”

“We have a surgeon?” the younger one asks.

“Find Ellis. Now,” Redhead demands.