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had to go through the same scan before you got on the plane, didn’t you?”

“Yeah…”

“And you must’ve been cleared—healthy as ever—otherwise you wouldn’t have been allowed to even get on the plane, right?”

The boy nodded his head again.

“So do you really think you would’ve gotten sick between now and the last scan?”

“I don’t know,” said the kid.

“Well, did you eat the veggie option?”

The boy shook his head emphatically. Of course not.

I smiled at him. “Then you’re fine.”

The kid laughed, vindicated for his dislike of vegetables.

“You’re almost through,” I said, “Don’t worry.”

I stood back up and the woman smiled at me. “Your mother must be so proud of you.”

I shrugged awkwardly, not wanting to disappoint her with the truth.

The guard ended our conversation abruptly, yelling, “Next!”

The woman bent down and kissed her son on the forehead. “Wait here and join me on the other side in a minute.”

The woman walked through the two metal walls of the bioscan. The device scanned her body, searching for any signs of the virus. The machine buzzed and a green light flashed. The woman stepped forth onto the other side.

“Your turn buddy,” I said to the kid.

He took a few hesitant steps before rushing between the detector’s walls. As the scan commenced, the boy shivered. His whole body trembled. It was horrible to watch. The shrill beep went off and the green light flashed.

The boy ran to his mother, jumping into her arms. They hugged and kissed before grabbing their things and hurrying towards the exit. They had made it. They were free to enter the country. The boy turned around, smiled at me, and waved.

“Next!”

I stepped forward, passing between the two armed guards, and entered the scanner. The process was no different from going through a metal detector. The only thing you felt were your nerves. I stood there as the machine scanned my body for bacteria and deadly cells. I closed my eyes and counted the seconds. There was nothing to be worried about. Just as I had told the kid: I’d gone through the exact same scan only a few hours ago. Nothing had changed.

I waited for the beep. Silence. I lifted my head to see if a green light flashed. Nothing. I turned around to get confirmation from one of the guards. Instead I found an assault rifle pointed at my chest.

“Stay right where you are,” said the guard from behind his gas mask. He had a rough voice with a slight country twang. “Don’t move.”

“What’s going on?” I said. “This must be a mistake.”

I whipped round and another guard was already there, semi-automatic ready in hand to blow my brains out.

“If you do not calm down, we’ll be forced by law to subdue you.”

I didn’t move. I didn’t open my mouth. Anything I did would be taken as a threat from these guys. All I wanted to do was elbow them in the face and run for it. But somehow I knew if I did, I would be begging them to shoot me.

The soldiers kept my head in their crosshairs. Army boots smacked against the floor, getting louder and louder. Security had sent out reinforcements.

Two new armed guards took position in front of the bioscan and started processing people.

The guard at my back patted me down and confiscated my phone, wallet, and passport.

“Hey! I need those—“

“Not where you’re going,” muttered the guard, patting me down.

Once finished, the other soldier said, “Follow me.”

He spun around and marched forward. I stood still, frozen with fear. Paralyzed. What was about to happen? The guard behind dug the barrel of his gun deep into my skin. A sharp pain ripped across my back.

“Move it.”

I caught up with the marching guard while the other one followed behind, making sure I didn’t run for it. We entered a back stairwell and headed down the steps. A cold draft swept through. My teeth shivered and my shoulders shook. At the bottom was an open door, leading to the tarmac.

Waiting for us there amongst the airplanes and runways was a green army van, engine running. The guard opened the back door and climbed in. Behind me, the soldier kicked my back with his boot, knocking me into the van.

“What the hell?”

“Shut up,” said the soldier, climbing in after me and shutting the door. He signaled the driver, “Take us to the quarantine facility.”

I got up off the van’s floor and sat down in the corner seat. “What are you guys planning to do to me? What exactly have I done?”

The guard who wasn’t a complete dickhead turned to me and lifted his gloved hands to his head. He fiddled with his gas mask and pulled it off. The man behind the mask had a boxy head with a square jaw. He had a standard army buzz cut and blue stoic eyes. He blinked and a string of numbers and code fell along the side of his right eye. No wonder this guy didn’t give a shit. He was an android.

“Passenger 1307-b,” he said. “Clay Hopewell, aged twenty-four years old, citizen of United North America. Arriving from Charles de Gaulle airport, Paris, France. Flight number: 248. You’ve been put under immediate arrest for breaking international law by the decree of—”

“Breaking the law! How so?”

“Isn’t it obvious, dumbass?” said the jerk guard, who kept his gas mask firmly on his head. “You got ZERO. You’re a ticking time bomb now bud. I’m sure those French fucks are real happy with themselves for kicking out all the foreigners.”

My arms shook, my shoulders shuddered. If what they said was true: I only had a few days to live.

“I was fine a few hours ago,” I said. “How is this even possible?”

“You’re asking the million-dollar question,” said the guard.

We drove along an empty runway towards a large airplane hangar. Surrounding the perimeter of the building was a scaffolding of barbed wire, armed guards, sentry towers, and machine gun turrets. We slowed down at a parking gate. The driver poked his head out and

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