The narrator has been found hiding in the rubble of a collapsed building, and is being asked why she was there, if she's infected, whether anyone else was with her, and how she got in:
How?(cough) How did I get here?
Listen, I’d focus less on the how, and more on the why, if I
were you. I’ve been hiding from the local mob. Twenty-four days I’ve been on the run,
ever since the spill. Those of us considered unclean have been hounded, and ‘eliminated’,
like the disease we carry. (cough) Breaking in is easy if you’re desperate
enough. (hacking cough)
Why did twelve respectable people feel the need to flee?
Ever since the event it’s been pollution this, infection that. Enough is
enough. There’s a civil war going on outside, and all you lot do is sit there
twiddling your thumbs waiting for a disaster so you can come with your stupid
clipboards and ask your stupid questions.
The twelve of us, the lucky twelve who got away, knew we
needed somewhere to hide, so we snuck in one night. They knew. They always
know. Destroying the (cough) building was just an attempt to flush us out.
Anyway, how do I know you’re not one of them yourself? You
may wear that uniform, but uniforms mean nothing now. Law, order, peace. Just
words fluttering in the breeze.
