The 5th Wave (The Fifth Wave #1)(54)

But what if Cassie’s wrong? Maybe the disease took longer to kill some people. Maybe it’s killing Megan right now.

Or maybe, he thinks, the Others have unleashed a second plague, one even worse than the Pesky Ants, one that will kill everyone who survived the first one.

He pushes the thought away. Since the death of his mother, he’s become good at pushing bad thoughts away.

There are over a hundred kids gathered into the three circles, but the hangar is very quiet. The boy sitting next to Sammy is so exhausted, he lies down on his side on the cold concrete, curls into a ball, and falls asleep. The boy is older than Sammy, maybe ten or eleven, and he sleeps with his thumb tucked firmly between his lips.

A bell rings, and then a lady’s voice blares over a loudspeaker. First in English, then in Spanish.

“WELCOME, CHILDREN, TO CAMP HAVEN! WE ARE SO HAPPY TO SEE ALL OF YOU! WE KNOW YOU’RE TIRED AND HUNGRY AND SOME OF YOU AREN’T FEELING VERY WELL, BUT EVERYTHING WILL BE FINE NOW. STAY IN YOUR CIRCLE AND LISTEN CAREFULLY FOR YOUR NUMBER TO BE CALLED. DON’T LEAVE YOUR CIRCLE FOR ANY REASON. WE DON’T WANT TO LOSE ANY OF YOU! STAY QUIET AND CALM AND REMEMBER THAT WE’RE HERE TO TAKE CARE OF YOU! YOU’RE PERFECTLY SAFE.”

A moment later, the first number is called out. The child rises from his red circle and is escorted by a soldier to a door painted the same color at the far end of the hangar. The soldier takes the card from him and opens the door. The child goes in alone. The soldier closes the door and returns to his station beside a red circle. Each circle has two soldiers, both heavily armed, but they smile. All the soldiers smile. They never stop smiling.

One by one the children’s numbers are called. They leave their circle, cross the hangar floor, and disappear behind the red door. They don’t come back.

It takes almost an hour for the lady to call Sammy’s number. Morning comes, and sunlight breaks through the high windows, filling the hangar with golden light. He’s very tired, ravenously hungry, and a little stiff from sitting so long, but he leaps up when he hears it—“FORTY-NINE! PROCEED TO THE RED DOOR, PLEASE! NUMBER FORTY-NINE!”—and in his hurry nearly trips over the sleeping boy beside him.

A nurse is waiting for him on the other side of the door. He knows she’s a nurse because she’s wearing green scrubs and soft-soled sneakers like Nurse Rachel from his doctor’s office. Her smile is warm like Nurse Rachel’s, too, and she takes his hand and leads him into a small room. There’s a hamper overflowing with dirty clothing and paper robes hanging from hooks next to a white curtain.

“Okay, champ,” the nurse says. “How long has it been since you’ve had a bath?”

She laughs at his startled expression. Then the nurse whips back the white curtain to reveal a shower stall.

“Everything comes off and into the hamper. Yes, even the underwear. We love children here, but not lice or ticks or anything with more than two legs!”

Though he protests, the nurse insists on doing the chore herself. He stands with his arms folded in front of him while she squirts a stream of foul-smelling shampoo into his hair and sudses his entire body, from his head to his toes. “Keep your eyes closed tight or it’ll burn,” the nurse gently instructs him.

She lets him dry himself off, and then tells him to put on one of the paper robes.

“Go through that door over there.” She points at the door at the other end of the room.

The robe is much too big for him. The bottom of it trails the floor as he goes to the next room. Another nurse is waiting there for him. She’s heavier than the first one, older, and not quite so friendly. She has Sammy step onto the scale, writes down his weight on a clipboard beside his number, and then has him hop onto the examination table. She places a metal disk—the same kind Parker used on the bus—against his forehead.

“I’m taking your temperature,” she explains.

He nods. “I know. Parker told me. Red means normal.”

“You’re red, all right,” the nurse says. Her cold fingers press on his wrist, taking his pulse.

Sammy shivers. He’s goose-bumpy cold in the flimsy robe and a little scared. He never liked going to the doctor, and he’s worried they might give him a shot. The nurse sits down in front of him and says she needs to ask some questions. He’s supposed to listen carefully and answer as honestly as he can. If he doesn’t know the answer, that’s okay. Does he understand?

What’s his full name? How old is he? What town is he from? Did he have any brothers or sisters? Are they alive?

“Cassie,” Sammy says. “Cassie’s alive.”

The nurse writes down Cassie’s name. “How old is Cassie?”

“Cassie is sixteen. They’re going back to get her,” Sammy tells the nurse.

“Who is?”

“The soldiers. The soldiers said there wasn’t room for her, but they were going back to get her and Daddy.”

“Daddy? So your father is alive, too? What about your mother?”

Sammy shakes his head. Bites his lower lip. He shudders violently. So cold. He remembers two empty seats on the bus, the one Parker sat next to him in and the one he sat in next to Megan. He blurts out, “They said there was no room on the bus, but there was room. Daddy and Cassie could have come, too. Why didn’t the soldiers let them come?”

The nurse answers, “Because you’re the first priority, Samuel.”