372.
The soldier in front of the border narrowed his eyes as he studied Lachlan’s face before going back to the reading on his scanner. "Unregistered augntation," he said. "Source."
"I was born this way... hey," Lachlan replied with a half smirk on his face.
One of the soldiers to the left shifted—maybe a flinch, maybe amusent. The lead didn’t react.
"Source," he repeated.
Lachlan’s eyes flicked to Elias for half a second.
Elias shook his head once. Lying to CDC tech was stupid when you didn’t know the paraters. "Unknown," he said. "Mutation event, post-Phase One."
"Docunted?"
"Yes," Elias lied smoothly. "Region O dical. Dr. Herrera, unit twelve."
Na fabrication, the creature chid. Poor choice. With all your luck, Herrera probably died in Phase Zero.
Elias didn’t let his expression flicker.
The soldier stared at him through the visor for a beat too long, then moved on. The scanner passed over Alexei—cool air, frost sll, a faint crackle as whatever he was didn’t enjoy being scanned. Then Zubair—steady, hot, fire humming just under the skin.
Each ti, the scanner gave the sa tone. Not denial. Not acceptance. A kind of reserved beep, the sound a machine might make when it finds sothing it was told did not exist.
Then the scanner turned on Elias.
It was like being scraped with light. A wave passed over him, up and down, flicking at his skin, tasting at his blood. He could feel the machine trying to match his hemoglobin signature to a library.
He could also feel his creature lift its head in interest.
You will fail this test.
"I won’t," he muttered.
You are altered. You sll of evolution. They do not like that. They want the old human. Soft, compliant, decaying at the proper rate. You will never die unless you are too stupid to live.
The device chirped.
Not green.
Red.
The soldier’s shoulders stiffened. The hand not holding the scanner went to his shoulder mic.
"Bio-positive," he said. "Sample required."
Zubair shifted his weight, just a fraction. Alexei’s fingers twitched near his thigh. Lachlan’s jaw tightened.
Sera just watched.
Elias swallowed. "Bio-positive doesn’t an infected," he said quickly, hands still visible. "You know that. It ans non-standard markers. We all ran into things out there." He gestured with his chin at the wasteland behind them. "You can’t still be screening on Phase One baselines."
The soldier didn’t answer him. He tilted his head like he was listening to soone in his earpiece.
From behind the line, two more figures erged. Their armor was cleaner, their helts broader to make space for extra filtration. One of them wore a pack on his back, tubing running from it to a handheld unit. A field phlebotomy rig. Portable blood lab.
"They’re still doing blood draws," Elias breathed. "Out here?"
Of course they are, the creature said, deeply amused now. You didn’t think you were the only one interested in better blood and better humans.
The new soldier stopped in front of Elias. "Extend your arm."
Elias hesitated.
"Sera?" he said, without looking away.
She tilted her head again. "You take blood to let people in. Is that the news normal?" she asked as the soldier simply grunted. "Go ahead... if that will make you feel better."
"Normal was three years ago," Elias sighed. "Before the virus... before everything."
She shrugged. "So people like to pretend. Besides, it still feels like yesterday to ."
The soldier in front of him snapped a fresh needle unit into place. It was sterile, sealed, printed with the CDC emblem. Seeing that logo hurt more than he expected. So old part of him rembered crowded hallways, rushed vaccinations, bad coffee.
The soldier repeated, "Extend your arm."
Elias did. Slowly. He pulled his sleeve up to the elbow and turned his wrist so the vein stood out.
The needle slid in without ceremony. Blood rushed up the tube.
The handheld unit beeped. The soldier capped the tube, tagged it, and passed it back to the second one, who fed it into the analyzer on his back.
A soft whir. A brief click. A screen lit.
The soldier looked at it for exactly half a second before turning his head toward the leader.
The leader looked toward the shimr, visor angled as if waiting.
They are escalating, the creature said, voice like a pleased lecturer. Your blood confirms you are not simple. They will not shoot you. You are too interesting. They are going to want to keep you around and study you. How does it feel... being on the wrong side of a microscope?
"I hate that that sounds like good news."
It is not good news for you. It is good news for them.
The leader finally spoke again, his voice sharper this ti. "Stand by."
He tapped the side of his helt. A beat passed. Another. Elias could almost feel the chain of command running upward—soldier to team lead, team lead to supervisor, supervisor to Director. How far up did it go now? How many were left?
Then the leader took two steps forward.
"By order of the Center for Disease Control and Continuity, Region T," he said, each word clipped, morized, "you are to be taken into containnt for full screening and antigen indexing."
Lachlan swore under his breath. "Called it."
Alexei’s eyes narrowed. "Indexing?"
"Blood work," Elias said, throat suddenly dry. "They want to see what we can do."
Zubair’s gaze slid to Sera—not asking, not challenging, just asuring.
She was smiling, faint and curious. "We were going this way anyway."
"Ma’am," the lead soldier said, visor tipping a bare nod in her direction. "Your compliance will expedite processing."
The creature in Elias’s head laughed. Oh, you are prey to them, little doctor. Pretty, unusual prey they will keep in a glass room.
"I am not prey," Elias hissed inwardly.
You are in their net. That is close enough.
The leader lifted his hand again, palm down this ti instead of out. The gesture was different—less warning, more directive.
The soldiers around them adjusted stance as one. Boots planted. Rifles angled, not at heads, not at chests—at hips. Control positions. Non-lethal if they behaved. Lethal if they didn’t.
The leader’s voice didn’t rise. It didn’t need to.
"Contain them," he said, and the rifles ca up.
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