Tracey Ward - Backs Against the Wall

I scowl right back. “I don’t know what any of that means.”

“It means this is the quarantine room, get inside,” he says gruffly. “I know there’s only one bed but we’ll bring two more mattresses down. We aren’t exactly used to having guests. I’m so sorry.”

“Okay, the sarcasm I understand.”

“Great. I’m fluent in it. Now for the last time, get in the cage or get out. My dinner is getting colder the longer I’m standing here gabbing with you.”

“Come on, Joss,” Ryan says, stepping between Stocky and I.

I follow him into the cage, feeling Trent close on my heels. They clang the metal door shut behind us and that’s that. We’re locked in. Prisoners. But for how long? And why doesn’t it feel the same? Why doesn’t it make me ill the way the Colony did? I’m more locked down here than I ever was there but it doesn’t make me stir crazy.

I’m about to ask how long our quarantine will last when Stocky gives us the rundown.

“Listen up, here’s the deal,” he says, sounding bored. “This is the quarantine area. This will be your home for the next two weeks.”

“Two weeks?” I exclaim.

Stocky holds up his hand. “Please hold all questions until the end of the tour. You are not prisoners here. If at any time you want to leave, you are free to go. I would actually prefer it if you left so give it some serious thought. If you choose to stay, you will remain in quarantine for the two week period. After that, if you do not turn into flesh eating zombies, you will be released from quarantine and brought before a council. This council will decide what to do with you. Getting through the quarantine does not guarantee you anything. In two weeks the council may decide to deport you immediately at which time you will be put right back on your little boat and sent on your way with a reminder to never come back. This is the most likely scenario, so I ask you again to consider saving both you and I a whole lot of time and hassle and leave immediately. No pressure. Speaking of pressure, through that door behind you is the bathroom. I assume you’ve seen one before. Maybe even operated a toilet or two in your day, but I don’t have high hopes. Please do not defecate on the floor. Use the toilet. I wish I didn’t have to say this, but experience has taught me otherwise.” He looks directly at me. “There is a shower with soap and hot water, clean towels, but sadly no facial masks, exfoliants or cucumber slices for your weary eyes. My sincerest apologies.”

I narrow my eyes at him. “I asked if you were going to scrub us down like the Colonies, I didn’t exactly ask for a massage.”

He pauses, sizing me up, seeming to take in my clothing and appearance in detail for the first time. “How exactly do you know what the Colony does to new members?”

I freeze, realizing my mistake. I worried insanely that Ryan and Trent would think I was a Colonist spy, that I hadn’t escaped but that I’d been a member all along. To these people that don’t know me at all, that worry doesn’t seem so insane.

“I’ve heard stories,” I tell him.

He continues to watch me silently. I stare back, desperate not to look guilty of anything but I just flat out lied so I’m feeling pretty boldly guilty at the moment.

“I’m going to eat my dinner,” he finally says, his voice turning low and serious. He’s no longer the bored, sarcastic tour guide anymore. He’s very alert. Very aware of me. “You’ll get yours soon enough. The extra mattresses too. In the meantime, don’t get too comfortable.”

With that he’s gone, he and his entire entourage. It’s just me, Ryan and Trent in the cage in the library in the building in the wild on an island emptied of Risen.

“Is prison supposed to be nicer than home?” Trent asks, glancing over the book spines on the shelves.

“Didn’t you hear?” Ryan asks drolly. “It’s not a prison.”

“Awful lot of bars for ‘not a prison,’” I mutter.

“Joss, you take the bed. I don’t know if they’ll make good on the promise of other mattresses but even if they don’t Trent and I will be fine on the floor.”

“I can sleep on the floor.”

“We all can sleep on the floor,” Trent says. “No one is saying you can’t. But it’s not very chivalrous for either of us to take the bed with a girl in the mix.”

“So you’re saying we’re all equal, but I’m a girl so I get the bed?”

“Doesn’t make any sense, does it?” He shrugs. “Maybe that’s why chivalry is dead. It’s dumb.”

“It’s not dead and it’s not dumb,” Ryan protests sounding tired and annoyed. “She’s taking the bed. Can we not make it an issue? Can you just say ‘thank you’ and lay down?”

“Can I go to the bathroom first?” I ask quietly, surprised by his sharp tone.

“Ryan, you sound exhausted. You should take a nap,” Trent suggests. He snaps his fingers like he just had a brilliant idea. “The bed! Why don’t you take it? Lie down? Joss, you don’t mind, right?”

Ryan runs his hands over his face, groaning. “Not now. Seriously so much, not now, dude.”

Trent frowns at the bed. “There’s no mint on this pillow.”

“I’m going to the bathroom,” I mumble, leaving them to work it out.

Inside the small room behind the library is a gleaming white, sterile as balls bathroom that makes me afraid to touch anything. This is familiar. This feels like the Colonies. Everything wiped down, everything in its place, the faint hint of anal retentive douchebaggery hanging in the air. And Stocky didn’t lie. There’s a shower that has steaming hot running water with clean towels that smell like soap and something else. Something flowery that I don’t like but it’s not mildew so I’ll roll with it. There’s soap in the shower as well. Something a lot like the Colony soap but with a slightly different scent. More of the flowers, I think. It’s smoother too. More like a lotion. It’s nice.

It’s then that I realize I’m naked in the shower under the hot water, my dirty, wet clothes a sodden pile on the perfect white floor. I honestly don’t know how I ended up in here covered in lavender scented lather. There was no conscious decision to do it, it just… happened. Too late to turn back now.

I stay in for ten minutes, washing my hair and body once per minute. I would stay in and do it all again if I wasn’t worried about letting the guys have a go at it. I’m trying not to be selfish, to think of others every now and then, but it’s hard because I desperately want it all for myself. As I climb reluctantly out the warm shower into the chilled air, I decide that being civilized sucks.

Dressed in my cold wet clothes again, I head back out to the cage. I’m surprised to find the boys’ mattresses have arrived and we’re not alone. A cot has been set up on the far side of the room near the door where a blond haired guy about my age is covering it in a blanket. It’s another comforter. Another genuine blanket that looks clean. Like it would smell of the lavender soap.

He glances up when I come out, giving me a sharp nod. “’Sup?”

I glance at Ryan, unsure.

“This is Sam. He’s our guard for the night,” Ryan explains.

He’s sitting on the floor on his mattress looking like he’s ready to tip over. I don’t know why he doesn’t just go to sleep already.

“I thought we weren’t in a prison. Why do we need a guard?”

“In case you decide you want to leave,” Sam says, sitting down on his bed with his back against the wall of books. “Taylor is all about you having easy access to the exit at all times.”

“Taylor is the stocky guy?”

“Yeah. He’s head of security. Whenever we have visitors, which lately is never, he’s in charge of making sure they don’t cause any problems.” Sam smiles at me. “You’re messing up his routine right now. He hates you.”