Questions

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Sakir

When Mya steps into my room only minutes after Dr. Julien is gone, I sigh in relief.  She crosses the room in lithe steps full of grace and lightness, as if she just glides across the linoleum floor. According to Papa's stories, she's barely fifteen, three years younger than me.

I can't deny that she's attractive, in a deer-like sort of way, thin and wispy. I've never seen eyes like hers, as if they were made from the purest gold mined in the most remote mountains in the Appalachians.

She would be even prettier if she was tall, though, and if her hair was darker.

An image pops up in my head of the girl fitting that description.

Athena.

"I have questions for you," Mya says, pulling a stool over to sit beside me.

She isn't wasting any time today. That's smart, because the virus is already making its way through my body, a fast moving poison. It immerses me in thick quicksand, surprising me with the added growing hunger. Except I crave something other than food, something no sane human should want - to taste iron on my tongue.

I'm laying in my own filth, unable to ignore the stench of my own urine. Maybe she wants to get as far away from me as possible. Again, I couldn't blame her. I don't even want to be near me right now.

"I'll answer whatever you need me to," I say, gritting my teeth against the spasm of pain across my stomach.

She unfolds a piece of paper covered in neat penmanship. The questions are numbered, written in thin, straight lines. Even the creases on the paper are exact. How long did she take to write the list?

"Okay, first. How are you immune?"

"The same way you are," I blurt. "Someone gave me the vaccine when I was a child."

"A vaccine? There is no vaccine."

I glance over at her, realizing the depth of my mistake.

"There used to be. How much do you know about your mom's job history?" I ask, testing the waters before I jump right in.

"As far as I know, she's always worked for President Ashford. Even when we lived in Compound 1."

"Do you know about her role in the Decontamination?"

"The what?" Mya asks, scrunching her nose up in confusion.

I sigh, wishing I had a free hand to run through my hair. She doesn't know anything.

"The Decontamination. A three stage process designed to cleanse the world of its undesirable people. The weak, the sick, and the unintelligent. Phase One was the virus. Phase Two was a second strand, and Phase Three was to be a genocide."

"Was to be?"

"Well, a girl by the name of Jaelyn Price stopped the second phase. With a little help, she stopped the third, too."

Mya narrows her eyes at me.

"How do I know you're not making this up?"

"Mya, I'm a prisoner here. What benefit would I get from lying?"

Her face softens, and she chews on a strand of her hair.

"What does that have to do with you?" she asks, either deciding to trust or just wanting to move on.

"When the virus started fifteen years ago, it was created by a team of three individuals. They were the greatest minds of the country at the time. Their names were Jacob Price, Sai Patel, and... Well, Ava Julien."

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