“The man said to wait, so we’re waiting,” he said, rising to block the aisle.. “There are still active infected out there.”
Now the vidscreens showed soldiers in battle armor walking around the bus killing the infected who’d come inside the enclosure clinging to the vehicle. One infected fell or jumped off the roof onto a soldier, who immediately stabbed it in the eye with a knife and threw the carcass aside, crisping it with a shot from his blaster. The soldier gave a thumbs up to his companions and walked on to find his next quarry.
The air inside the bus grew hot and fetid from the smell of the scorched paint and the burning of infected. Someone threw up noisily in the rear of the bus.
“Driver, you can open your door safely now,” said the crisp voice on the com. “Exit one at a time and walk straight to the processing area ahead. Comply with any instruction or order you may be given. My men have orders to shoot first and ask questions later if anyone deviates from my orders.”
“Acknowledged,” Les said. He looked at Devora. “We’ll go last, together.”
“Absolutely.”
“All right, you heard the man on the com just now. I’m going to open the door but don’t rush the exit and don’t try leaving through one of the emergency exits. My guess is these guys are hyper alert and also don’t give a damn. Life is cheap nowadays. They’ll shoot you as easily as they shot the infected. Understand?”
Les waited until he saw heads nodding and then he opened the bus door. The wave of cooler air which swept in was refreshing. He sat, reaching to hold Devora’s hand as all his passengers left the bus, carrying their few possessions. Many thanked him but others merely rushed down the steps, anxious to be somewhere safer. Finally he and Devora rose and she gathered Jenny’s things into the backpack while Les held the child.
He went first, Devora and Jenny right behind, to find himself standing in between a line of grim-faced soldiers with weapons ready. “I’m the driver,” he said. “This is my wife and child. There’s no one else on the bus.”
“Walk forward to the processing area, sir,” said the nearest soldier, gesturing with his weapon.
They had to go single file and although the officer allowed Devora to continue holding Jenny. There was a lengthy, thorough eye scan with handheld sensors, after which the men around them relaxed significantly.
“No sign of infection in you or your family, sir,” said the tech. “Proceed to the next room.”
In the next room their names and place of origin were recorded. Les felt a little funny giving Rosewater as his home but it was where the current trip had started after all. The clerk handed them each a small green card with a code on it. “This is your camp ID,” he said. “You’ll need it to get food or any other services so don’t lose it. The code is cross referenced to your arrival date, health clearance and place of origin. Once you have your work assignments, the information will also be in the database, as far as other entitlements.”
“Whoops, I’d better hold onto Jenny’s for her then,” Devora said, taking the card from the child’s hand.
“You can move on to the next station.”
A bored medtech in white waited for them, seating at a table, with gleaming containers of ruby blood in a huge rack beside her elbow. “Blood sample,” she said, holding up her med device. “I’ll need to scan your cards first..”
“Why take a sample? You already scanned us and we’re not infected,” Les said even as he was rolling up his sleeve.
“Standard procedure here,” she said. “Give us a sample or don’t get inside the camp, simple as that. We take your card and put you out the front gate. I don’t make the rules.”
At least she was quick and efficient and when it came Jenny’s turn the tech unbent, letting the little girl pretend to take a sample from her first to show it didn’t hurt at all.
It was a short walk outside to the next building. Guards watched them as they followed yellow arrows painted on the sidewalks. This part of the camp seemed deserted. Les wondered where the other refugees from the bus had gone and if they’d ever see any of them again. He’d have to make an effort to find Ethan, and Sandy as well, if he could, once they were established here.
The next interview took place in an office. A captain sat across a big desk from them and scanned their cards rapidly. “All right,” he said, “I’m Captain Briskinn, the official intake authority on duty today. I’ll need to know what your background and skills are so I can assign you to work details. Everyone works here, every day, with one day a week off. You want to stay, you work.”
“What about my daughter?” Les said, indicating Jenny. “She’s too young to work.”
“She’s what it’s all about,” the man replied with enthusiasm. “She’s the future. We’re building toward a future for ourselves here on Randal Four, despite the infected surrounding us.”
Les could tell Devora was impressed by the answer and he had to admit it sounded good. He had a million questions but Captain Briskinn clearly didn’t plan to answer anything. He handed over a one sheet Frequently Asked Questions document with a map of the camp’s layout on the reverse. “Read this at your leisure later. The main landmarks of the camp are indicated and each residence has an officer in charge if you have questions.”
“There’s a daycare?” Devora asked in surprise as she studied the map, ignoring his comment about no questions.
With a sigh, the captain said, “Yes, although we don’t have many children here. There’s a one room school attached to the daycare as well.”
“There was a girl with us, Sandy Demmons, she was good with Jenny and I’m sure she’d be a natural for the daycare,” Devora said. “She might not have thought to mention the experience.”
“I’ll make a note. Now starting with you, sir. Occupation?” Briskinn clearly wanted to move the meeting along.
“Bus driver and mechanic,” Les said. Then, as the officer was entering the data he added what he was sure the man wanted to hear. “Honorably discharged from the Sectors Unified Infantry Command with the rank of staff sergeant.”
The captain perked up. “What unit?”
