Viral Nation Read Online Free PDF Page A

“Looks like the first-aid class has a new teacher.”
    “Yes, indeed.”
    Clover wandered off, holding Mango’s lead in her right hand. At the last minute, she remembered and turned back. “Thank you, Tom.”
    The old man’s wrinkled face softened into a smile. “Pleasure.”
    Clover inhaled as she walked among the shelves of books. The library’s scent of dust and old paper filtered through her as she lifted her free hand and let her fingers trail along the spines of a row of art books. The world changed just as she was born. It hadshrunk to the size of the city. But these books let her see what it used to be.
    She picked one full of prints of Georgia O’Keeffe’s work. Cow skulls and desert landscapes. Clover traced the petals of a huge flower that held secrets she didn’t quite understand. Then she slid the book back into its spot, where she knew she could find it anytime she wanted it, and went to look for books on beekeeping. If West couldn’t get her candles, maybe she could make her own.

     
    The Waverly-Stead building and the Bazaar sat across four lanes of Virginia Street from each other. A huge arched sign, declaring Reno
The Biggest Little City in the World
, bridged the road. Back in the day, the buildings must have used as much energy between them every day as the whole rest of the city combined did now.
    West passed with Isaiah under the sign and through the heavy double doors into the Company’s headquarters. The artificial cool inside gave him goose bumps as they walked along the marble entrance to a large wooden desk.
    The woman behind the desk stopped typing when they approached, her fingers curved like claws over the keyboard. “How can I help you?”
    “I’m here to apply for guard training,” West said. “Please.”
    The receptionist was maybe forty. Her light brown hair was teased and fluffed to an arrangement that didn’t move when she turned her head. Pitted scars on her cheeks meant the Company had saved her life.
    West had the scars, too. He rarely thought about them, but they marked him as a survivor. The woman glanced from his eyes to his right cheek and back.
    “Take the elevator to the third floor, honey, make a left and then a right, and you’ll see the recruitment offices at the end of the hall,” she said.
    West and Isaiah walked toward the elevator together. The Bazaar had a bank of them, too. No other building in Reno except for the hospital had enough energy reserve to save people from walking up stairs.
    “You’ll get a packet to fill out, and they’ll want a start date,” Isaiah said as the doors slipped closed.
    Just like that, the long wait to start his life was over. He pressed the button for the third floor and rocked on his toes as the elevator lurched upward.
    He looked at Isaiah in the mirrored elevator door. His friend wore guard uniform pants, mottled with shades of green and brown, and a white T-shirt the same as West’s.
    All work was important. Without farmers, no one ate. But West was so ready to do something really interesting, he could barely hold it in.
    They found the recruitment office easily enough. Isaiah had been there before, of course, three years ago. West hesitated before opening the door, feeling like he was crossing some sort of threshold, but when he did, he found just a room. A table inside the door held a stack of dark blue and white folders.
    “Take one,” a man behind a desk said without looking up from his work. He flicked his wrist toward some chairs a few feet away. “Sit there and fill it out.”
    The packet inside the top folder was thick, with a couple dozen pages stapled inside. “Can I bring this back?” West asked. “My sister is waiting for me in the library, and I still have to get to the Bazaar—”
    The man held up a hand, and West swallowed the rest of his rambling.
    “Fill out the first page. We’ll set an appointment for your interview. You can bring the balance of the application two days before that