"Papers are in order. Please move to the viral testing station."
Saying I was worried was an understatement. My chest tightened up and I began feeling like I couldn't breath. Minho noticed this and grabbed my hand. "It's going to be okay," he reasurred me. I wasn't too sure about that, but I smiled anyway.
Jorge stepped to the right and a panel from the wall emerged. It was a strange looking device, one I had never really seen. The man leaned forward and placed his face in the machine. When his eyes were lined up to the socket looking devices an arm emerged before pricking his neck. As soon as the machine hissed Jorge stepped away.
The lady's monotone voice then said, "Next."
Brenda decided to go next. She looked nervous. It almost made me angry that she was scared to be tested. She was immune. There was absolutely no reason for her to be upset. If anything I should be the one crying in the corner like a baby. I wanted to slap some sense into that girl and tell her she was being a bitch. But she leaned into the machine and my anger subsided.
After Brenda, Minho went, then Thomas. Everyone looked at me, expecting me to run off or try to get out of the test. But I panicked and stepped over to the machine. I leaned in before feeling the prick on my neck. I stepped back, my hands shaking. I didn't know what was wrong with me. Usually I was tough. I was calm despite feeling like I was going to throw up. Right now my body had taken over because my mind was all over the place.
A few seconds later the woman's voice rang through my ear. "You've all been cleared of VCT and confirmed immune."
"What?" I blurted out. "Test me again!"
Jorge gave me a, what are you doing, look. I shot him a glare in return. It was impossible for me to be immune. This made no sense. Maybe the machine was broken or they mixed something up. Either way I had to know. I didn't care if it ruined our plan, this was more important.
Minho said in my ear, "What are you doing? We got a free pass to the other side."
"I can't be immune, Minho. I just have to double check, to make sure that the machine is messed up."
"Please proceed," the woman insisted.
"I need to be tested again!" I told her. "Just to make sure I won't infect anyone. It's important."
With no work from the woman in the speaker, the panel appeared from the wall once again. I held my breath as I leaned in. Hearing the hissing noice of the machine filled me with dread. It was as if God himself was determining my fate. His hand was holding me above the pit to hell. I could feel the flames of damnation licking my feet. In a moment God could let me go and I would fall. Fall into the hell known as the Flare.
In a swift motion the needle pierced my skin. I stepped back, accidentally bumping into Thomas. He grabbed my biceps so I wouldn't move back farther. I didn't apologize because I was afraid I wouldn't hear the results of my state. Would I be dropped into hell? Or would God have mercy on my soul?
When her voice filled the room I almost fell to the ground.
"Umm, there must be a mistake. These results say you are infected. It must be broken. Please step forward to be tested again."
I did as she said and went through the process a third time. Jorge appeared to be conflicted. He didn't know what was going on, which was new for him. Minho was weirdly calm. He grabbed my hand and squeezed it gently.
"You're confirmed immune," the woman informed us. "Please proceed."
My hand released Minho's and fell to my side. I looked at the group of runways with wide eyes. "What the actual fuck is going on?"
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Theories?
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