Free The Infected: A Post Apocalyptic Thriller by Matt Cronan

right team. I can promise you that much. He'll tell you the rest tomorrow. You'll see."
    "I hope so," Sam said.
    "You will."
    Cole turned and walked down the hallway and disappeared out of sight. Jordan ran his hand through hair and shook his head. "What the hell is going on?"
    Sam shrugged.
    "How you holding up?" he asked. Gently, he pressed his thumb against the cut on her head. It stung, and she winced at the pain. He pulled his hand away from the cut and rested it against her cheek.
    "I don't know," Sam answered.
    It was the most honest answer she could give. The executions in the plaza seemed like a lifetime ago. Holden's revelation about their past coupled with everything else…was she dreaming? None of this could be real. Could it? She felt numb. Empty.
    "I'm glad you're here with me," she said.
    "Me too," he said.
    They took turns going to the washroom. The water drizzled down in freezing spurts, but she was grateful for every drop. She grimaced when she pulled back on the dirty coveralls and sweaty undergarments.
    They met back in their sleeping quarters and Sam took a seat on the floor against the far wall. Jordan brought over the first-aid kit Cole had left and one of the MREs. He squatted down beside her.
    "What do you make of all this?" he asked.
    He pressed an alcohol wipe to her wound and Sam cringed as the pain shot through her forehead.
    "Sorry," he said, recoiling his hand.
    "It's fine," she said through gritted teeth. "Just get it over with."
    He pressed the wipe to her forehead again. Her head throbbed, but the pain was duller than before.
    "I don't know what to make of it," Sam said. "Those things they said in the conference room, none of it seems real. How could they erase all of our memories? How does no one know about any of this?"
    Jordan removed a bandage from the tin box and opened it. "We only know what they want us to. We're their puppets."
    The words sent shivers down Sam's spine.
    "If there's a chip in our mind suppressing our old memories then maybe there's a way to disable it. We can be fixed."
    "We're not broken," Sam whispered.
    "You know what I mean."
    "I know."
    Jordan placed the bandage over the cut and then kissed the top of her forehead.
    "I'm sorry," Sam said.
    "Don't—"
    "It's all my fault."
    "No, it's not," Jordan said. He sat down beside her. "None of this is your fault. It's theirs." He pointed at the corner of the MRE where 'Concordia' was printed in big bold letters.
    Sam nodded but didn't speak. They sat in silence as Jordan opened the MRE. It consisted of a package of beef enchiladas, refried beans, crackers, cheese spread, and two cookies. They read the heating instructions, fumbled around with the packaging and then decided they weren't hungry after all. They split the two cookies and the package of crackers.
    Cole was right. They tasted horrible. The cookies were dry and the crackers stale. When they finished, Jordan retrieved two glasses of water from the washroom.
    "We should get some sleep," he said after they refilled their water glasses.
    "Sleep sounds good."
    There were no blankets or pillows or sheets. They stretched out on the hard wooden floor and Jordan wrapped an arm around her waist. He pulled her body close to his, her back to his chest. She rested her weary head onto his outstretched arm, and she asked him if it was okay.
    "Are you okay?" Sam asked.
    "Wouldn't have it any other way," he answered.
    "You can't be comfortable."
    "I've never been more comfortable."
    Sam felt the same way. They'd never been this close, yet their bodies locked together like they had been designed for that sole purpose. Sam turned so she could look at him.
    "Jordan?"
    "Yes?"
    "I love you."
    "I love you too."
    She kissed him deeply. His lips were warm and full. Why couldn't there have been a lifetime of these kisses?
    "Remember the flowers," Jordan said as he pulled away.
    "I will."
    A moment of silence passed and Sam felt herself slipping toward her dreams. Effigies of enflamed