Life After The Undead (Book 1) (48 page)

“What
business
do
you
have in North
Platte?”

“We
’r
e
delivering
supplies.”

The
guard
looked
at
me. He
smiled
when
he
recognized
me.
“Found
some
stuff,
did
ya?”

I
nodded.

“Good.
Things
were
getting
a
bit
slim.
I
’l
l
need
you
to
step
out
of
the
truck
and
head
to
the
inspection
area.”

Again,
the
color
drained
out
of
my
face
and
my
stomach
fluttered.
“What?
Why?”
When
Pam
and
I
went
out,
we
didn
’t
have
to
be
inspected.
I
guess
they
assumed
nothing
was
going
to attack us
in the
East.

“You
know
the rules,
Krista.
No
one
gets
into
the
city
without
being
inspected.”

Quinn
and
I
looked
at
each
other
for a
minute
before
pushing open
our
doors.
Kyle
and
Bill
joined
us as we headed
to the
inspection
area.
I
glanced
over
my
shoulder
and
watched
the
guards
pull
the
trucks
through
the
gate
toward
the
storage
yard.

The
inspection
area
was
between
two
guard
towers
next
to
the
trench.
There
were
two
lines,
one
for
men
and
one
for
women,
and
they
were
separated
by
solid
green
plastic
fencing.
It
was
pretty
difficult to
see
through
when
you
were
in there,
but
if
the
sun
hit
it just
right,
you
could
see
the
silhouettes
of
the
men
on the other side.
Not
that
I
looked.
I
happened
to
notice.

The
fences
were
about
twenty-five
feet
long,
and
the
workers
were
lined
against
the
wall
and
hosed
down
while
another
guard
inspected
every
inch
of
them.
Right
before
the
fence
were
outfitters
tents
where
we
were
expected
to
strip
down.
A
shift
just
finished,
so
we
took
our
places
at
the
backs
of
our
respected
lines.

As I
got
closer
to
the
tent,
my
skin
felt
hot
and
prickly
and
the
voice
at
the
back
of
my
head
told
me
to
run.
I
knew,
of
course,
that
if
I did,
they’d
shoot
me
on
sight.
It’s going to be all right. You’re going to be fine
.

Once
I
stepped
under
the
tarp,
I
followed
the
lead
of
all
the
other
women
and
took
my
shoes
off,
then
stripped
down
to
my
underwear.
I
visibly
shook at
this
point,
both from
the
cold
and
fear,
and
I
folded
my
arms across
my
chest
to
keep
my
appendages
under
control.
The
group
in
front
of
me
was
sprayed
with
the
hose.
Reflexively,
they
tried
to
block
it.
The
guard
then
made
her
rounds. After
a
few
minutes,
they
came
back
into
the
tent
and
pulled
their
clothes
on.
Another
set
went
in.
Two
more
and
it
would
be
my
turn. I
glanced
down
at the
bandage
on
my
leg.
It
was
like a flashing
beacon.

Finally,
it
was
my
turn
to
step
in
front
of
the
wall.
I
was
about
to
take
my
place
when
the
inspecting
guard
stopped
me.

“Whoa,”
she
said
and
placed
a
hand
on
my
shoulder.
“Wha
t’s
up
with
your
calf?”
She
pointed
at
my
leg.

“Nothing,”
I
squeaked.
“Just a little
scratch.”

She
pursed
her
lips
and
bent
down.
With
one
quick
motion,
she
ripped
the
gauze
off.

I
sucked
in
a
deep
breath
and
almost
fell
over
backward.

“You
get
grabbed
by
something?”

Tears
stung
my
eyes.
This
was
the
end.
I
knew
it. I
was
going
to
be
led
from
the
hose
line
to
the
firing
line.
I
nodded
slowly.

“Did
it bite
you?”

I
shook
my
head.

“Okay,”
the
guard
said,
surprisingly
compassionate.
“After
I check
the
rest
of
you,
this
girl
here
will
take
you
to
the
hospital.”

It
wasn
’t
until
the
cold
water
hit
my
body
that
her
words
registered
in my
brain.
She
said
hospital,
not
firing
line.
As I
stood
there,
dripping wet
and
shivering,
I
couldn’t
help
but
feel
a
sense
of
relief.
After
we
got
the
okay,
we
went
back
to
the
tent
and
pulled
on
our
clothes.
A
different
soldier
escorted
me
to
the
hospital.

We
went
directly
to the
emergency
room
and
immediately
saw
a
doctor. He
told
me
to sit
on
the
gurney
while
he
examined
my
leg.
Without
saying
a
word,
he
pulled
out
a
needle
and
jammed
it
into
my
shoulder.
The
actual
needle
didn’t
hurt,
but
when
he
pumped
the
liquid
in,
I
thought
my
arm
would
catch
fire.