He grimaced. “We’re being put in color groups,” he said. “And that’s how they decide which quarantine camp we all get shipped off to.”
“Quarantine?” I asked. “If they kept our building, they could’ve just left us.”
He took me by the shoulders. “Don’t say that, sweetie,” he said. “There were mutants or sick people living in your building. You were lucky to escape.”
I made a face, then felt a tight urgency coming from my bladder. “Mutants?” I asked. “Says who? Which floor?”
“Everyone,” he said. “Well, I heard it from three people. You’re just lucky they got you out. You could be one now. And then we’d have to break up.”
“So I’d be available to date other mutants?”
He shrugged with puppy dog begging. “You know I would still love you,” he said.
“So what’s the deal with the color groups?” I asked. “Do they mean anything?”
“Here’s what I can figure out,” Bruce said. “You don’t want to be yellow. That’s for people who look a little lower class.”
“We’re all dirty and forlorn,” I said. “I don’t think that’s a healthy indicator. And I would give any color group anything to find a bathroom around here.”
One of the SWATers handed Bruce and myself yellow bracelets.
“Move along,” he said.
“Excuse me?” I asked, pulling on his sleeve. “What’s the deal with the color classification?”
He sighed. “Tenth time today I’ve had to explain this,” he muttered. “But at least you’re not asking me where your aunt is.”
“Excuse me?”
He shook his head, rolling his eyes. “There should be some kind of rules sign on the wall that’s all.”
He pointed to the yellows. “You’re a yellow, got that?”
We nodded simultaneously.
“Means we got you from an area of high danger. People who are soft and aren’t used to hardship.”
“So kids and people rescued from offices?” I asked.
“Exactly,” he said, then pointed to a group under a blue arrow. “Those are the blues. We rescued them from labs and tech headquarters. We need their brains so they’re going off where they’ll be preserved.”
“Are you sure there’s no better way to phrase that?” I asked.
“Not on a day like today, ma’am,” he said, then gestured to a group of rather beautiful-looking people under a green arrow. “That’s our green group. I don’t want to say VIP, but they’re more noted people who we’re taking to a special place where they should get better treatment than everyone. I think I saw Tom Hanks over there somewhere.”
Bruce folded his arms. “Clearly this is the category I was meant to be in.”
I smiled at him. “Thank you. Can you tell me how I might get in touch with a family member?””
“Move along,” the guard said.
Bruce gave him a fake smile and then quickly stashed the bracelet under his shirt. He nodded calmly. “Oh well, we tried.”
“You heard the man,” I said. “We hoped for better, but in the end, it’s the yellow group. Does this mean I get to find the bathroom now?”
“I’m not going to be a yellow,” he said. “I am an actor. Actors choose who they are, and today I am green.”
I patted him on the back. “Well, if a better color means a path to the bathroom, then I’m in,” I said. “Whatever it takes.”
He smiled. “It’s so great to have you back.”
“Is it?”
I considered this moment, here and now, to utter the words, Bruce, I think it’s time we saw other people, when an official poked me. I turned and faced him.
“Yellow, maybe?” I shrugged. “Can you direct me to the nearest bathroom?”
“Depends on what color group you’re in,” he said. “Yellows are all the way over on the other side, but there’s a line. Greens get to use this close one.”
He pointed to a smaller line leading to a unisex bathroom.
I gave him my best smile. “I must be a green then,” I said. I went to turn toward the bathroom, but he stopped me, pointed at my pants.
“What’s that sticking out of your pocket?”
My yellow bracelet peeked out, damning me. “Oh. This yellow thing.”
I laughed awkwardly and then set out on a trek for the bathroom with a line that snaked the length of the floor. I went to the end of it and closed my eyes, trying to think of other things to distract me from the pain in my bladder.
Bruce ran up to me. “What are you doing here?”
“I have to use the bathroom,” I said as the line shifted slightly forward. “They won’t let me use the green bathroom.”
Bruce rolled his eyes. “This is stupid. It’s green or nothing. What’s the bathroom like? Any of the cast from Compton PD there?”
“I didn’t get a chance—”
He grabbed my hand, and we rushed over to the other side of the quarantine where they handed out those green bracelets.
“Excuse me,” I said to a covered guard, breathing hard. “We were supposed to be in the green group, but it seems there’s been a mistake.”
I stared at that bathroom. I just wanted to go in and have one less thing to worry about already.
The guard took off her covered helmet, revealing a surly woman wearing a lot of makeup. She shrugged. “Your point being?”
I handed her the bracelet. “May we please be green?” I asked. “And may I use your facilities?”
She snorted. “Y’all out of luck,” she said. “Move along.”
She waved us away before I thought of something. “Wait!” I said. I reached into my bag and pulled out Debra’s bottle of nail polish. “It’s the hottest color this fall.”
She pointed at it, her eyes wide. “Where’d you get that?”
I shook my head. “Does it matter? I’d be willing to part with it for a place in the green group.”
She snatched the bottle and my yellow bracelet out of my hands. “Get over to the distribution line. Tell them Donna sent you.”
“Thank you!” I said, pulling a bewildered Bruce along.
“What was that about?” he asked.
“You heard the woman,” I said. “Doesn’t matter.”
We went up to the distribution line that was moving forward and then someone handed me a green bracelet and one to Bruce.
“Weren’t you and your sister registered in yellow?” the man in the hazmat suit asked Bruce.
“Donna sent me,” he said.
“We’re not brother and sister.” I said. “We don’t look that much alike.”
“Do we?” he murmured.
Bruce and I nodded simultaneously. Just in case. They pushed us along, and Bruce stared wistfully at the other groups.
“Maybe we should aim for the blue group,” he said.
Debra came up behind us, out of breath. “Whatever you do, do not go into the bathroom set aside for the yellows. There’s no toilet paper, and I had to impale someone’s foot with my heel just to use the sink to wash my hands.”
“Noted,” I said, uncomfortably switching my weight between feet.
“What are we doing?” she asked.
“Getting our green bracelets,” I said.
She made a face. “Ew, do you know who’s a yellow?”
We caught a familiar sight no more than ten feet away from us. Steve Harks, an A-list celebrity seen in movies where things exploded. The only reason I remembered Steve’s name was because as soon as Bruce saw him he whispered madly, “Steve Harks. Steve Harks, Steve Harks.”
I’ll say this—even with a week of hardship and whatever misfortunate circumstances—the man was drop-dead gorgeous. My jaw dropped a little as I tried hard not to stare. Debra, on the other hand, made no secret about it. She looked like a fourteen year old, eyes wide and shining. She jabbed me with her chipped and polished fingernail and heavy cocktail ring. I turned to her.