Silver Horizons (Silver Horizons #1)

Silver Horizons | 13

"I'm not afraid of death; I just don't want to be there when it happens." – Woody Allen

“Names.”

            “Elijah Hollis, Kyle Hollis, and Forest Waters.”

            “Ages.”

            “Eighteen, fifteen, and nineteen.”

            “Relationships.”

            “Kyle and I are brothers. Forest is a—“ I looked briefly at Forest, and decided on the relationship that we shared. “—he’s a family friend.”

            “Are you infected?”

            “No, we’re not infected.”

            The people on the other side of the fence looked at each other momentarily, probably pondering over the fact that I may be a zombie. So I decided to help him out by informing him that zombies, so far, couldn’t speak. Nor did they look human. He seemed to buy it.

            The fences keeping outsiders from the quarantine was barbed, and it looked more like a prison than a quarantine that numerous people wanted to go to. Then again, I was beginning to think that it actually was a prison. A prison turned quarantine, that was for sure.

            The quarantine itself was a deep grey stone, and it looked intimidating and scary. There were surveillance cameras all along the roof, but I doubted that any of them actually worked. Electricity was a hard thing to come by these days.

            “Here we go,” Forest said, stepping into the fenced in area with Kyle and I following him. The ground was hard with not much grass growing, which said more than I thought it would’ve. I wasn’t sure if this place being a prison or not scared me.

            “We’re finally here,” Kyle said.

            “Yep,” I replied. “We’re finally here.”

            The guards—there were two heavily armed guards that looked like they came from the U.S. Navy—led us to the door, but they didn’t go inside with us. Instead, another person, who wasn’t heavily armed, met us at the front entrance and brought us inside. It was a woman, and she looked to be about in her mid-thirties. She was dressed in a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt. I could tell that they didn’t dress very prestigiously here. But then again, it was the zombie apocalypse. We weren’t dressing up for interviews. Instead, we were dressing up to have our brains chomped on by zombies. Just kidding. Kind of.

            “My name is Macy,” the lady informed us, guiding us down a hallway with stone walls. “You kids can call me Macy. I’m the second in command here.”

            “Who’s the first in command?” asked Forest.

            Macy looked back for a second before turning back around and walking faster. We managed to keep up. “Georgia Smith.”

            At least we now knew that our good ole shotgun-loving friend Georgia wasn’t lying.

            “Cool,” Forest said. “Where are you taking us? And what is this place anyway? It looks like a—“

            Macy cut Forest off and said, “Prison? Yeah, that’s because it is.”

            So I was right.