Carrie, too weak to move, was the only one in the room of 25 Z-virus survivors who didn’t turn expectantly at the sound of the door opening. Two large men resembling prison guards preceded Dr. Williams as she entered the room.
“Is everyone OK?” she asked with concern. Eleanor answered, “Carrie has a headache.” I added, “Other than that, we’re physically intact, if that’s what you’re asking.”
John asked, “What happened to Carrie?” To this, Dr. Williams replied, “We’re still working with the dosage amounts. Each individual is different and what just happened here leads me to believe that Carrie’s was too low for her.”
Stone-faced, John pressed Dr. Williams with another question. “Why did leave us trapped in here with her? You couldn’t be sure she wouldn’t attack us.” Dr. Williams remained poised, “Yes, there was the possibility that Carrie would attack, but past tests indicated that it was unlikely. I had to keep her contained until she could be stabilized. Believe it or not, though, this is good news.”
Tammy snorted, “Really? How?” Dr. Williams responded, “This means it’s safe for each of you to have a roommate.” At this, Tammy and I exchanged involuntary glances at one another.
Our solitary confinement days were over.