In the After

by Demitria Lunetta

“No.” His voice was heavy. “I knew her, though. She gave her life to save the campus. . . .” He trailed off.

  “What happened?”

  “We were setting up the emitters,” Rice explained, his face pained. “We knew we had to expand in a circle, keep the Floraes on the run, away from the compound. We thought they were still far away, but suddenly one was right in front of us, at the center of the sonar radius. It didn’t know where to run, but as soon as it spotted us, it . . . rushed us.”

  His eyes lost focus and I could tell he was back there, in that awful place nearly three years ago.

  “It reached her first. And I ran. I thought I was dead for sure, the Floraes are so fast, but it stayed with her. I was lucky.” He sat up as he spit out the word bitterly, as if he were anything but.

  “A lot of people here don’t understand. I mean, they know the Floraes are real, that they’ve killed nearly everyone on the planet, but they’ve never seen one up close. They were here when it happened. They can’t understand what it’s like.”

  I sat up next to him. “I survived outside of New Hope with the Floraes. You couldn’t have saved her. You did the right thing by running away.” I placed my hand on his arm, my touch bringing him back from his memories.

  “Yeah. Well. That was a long time ago.” He shrugged. I gave his arm a squeeze before letting go. “We’ve positioned the emitters to optimize sonic output and we expand the area of New Hope a little each year. We’re even working on something for the Floraes. . . . You know, your mother would probably be the one to talk to about all this. I’m not sure what she wants you to know.”

  “Did my mother tell you I snuck into the lab?” I asked.

  Rice sighed. “Yes, she told me. I don’t know why you did that. You could have been sent to the Ward or expelled.”

  “I don’t know why I did it either. I saw the black door open and slipped through without even thinking.” I paused and looked around to make sure no one was in earshot. I lowered my voice. “I saw all the experiments you’re doing. You must have discovered something about the Floraes by now. Where they come from, why they’re here.”

  Rice fidgeted, adjusting his glasses. “Amy, I can’t talk about this. I can’t share our research with you. Even though you’re the director’s daughter, you’re still just a citizen. You haven’t even classed out yet.”

  “I don’t understand why this is all so secretive.”

  “It’s not, just . . . I mean, every citizen of New Hope doesn’t need to know every single thing that is going on. It would be too much for some people to handle.”

  I sighed and rubbed my face.

  “How is Baby?” Rice asked, changing the subject. “The director said you two were resting this past week. She’s not sick is she?”

  “No. She’s fine,” I assured him. “We’re just getting used to sleeping at night instead of during the day.”

  “I was worried about you two, hiding in your apartment all week.”

  “We weren’t hiding,” I told him, though that’s exactly what we were doing. I lay back in the grass and let the sunshine pour over me. After a few minutes of peace I sat up and gave Rice a weak smile.

  “Feel better?” he asked.

  “Yes, thanks. This was . . . necessary.”

  He stood, wiping the grass from his jeans, then held out a hand and helped me up. He looked down at me, his eyes shining intensely. “I have to get back to work, but I’ll see you after class. Okay?”

  I smiled and nodded. I walked back to my classroom with a strange mix of emotions. I liked Rice, trusted him. But when I slipped into my desk, I wondered about our conversation. Floraes outpopulated us thousands to one. We had to stop them. Someone in New Hope had to find the answer. I looked around the classroom, at the gifted and talented kids back from lunch, all working quietly on their proposals.

  I made my way over to Vivian’s desk. She looked up cheerfully. “You doing okay?”

  “Yeah . . . about lunch . . .”

  “Don’t worry about it. People expect post-aps to be a little jumpy,” she told me.

  “Well, I was just wondering about what you were doing earlier, when I first got to class . . . when you were all talking to figure something out.”

  “The think tank?”

  “That’s it. Can I call a think tank?”

  “Sure.” She stood and started arranging chairs in a circle. “Come on, guys. Andrew, Hector, Haley . . . Amy needs our help with something.”

  Everyone gathered in a circle and stared at me expectantly.

  “Well,” I started hesitantly. “I just have a lot of questions. I guess I want to know . . .” I took a deep breath. “How are there still so many Floraes when their main food source—us—is mostly depleted? How have they not died of starvation, or left, or whatever?”

  They considered for a moment.

  “They could eat other things,” Haley offered.

  I shook my head. “I don’t think so. I’ve never seen them eat vegetation. They are definitely carnivores.” I told them what I observed from the safety of my electric-fenced home. How they can’t see well, but have amazing hearing. What they looked like up close. What they smelled like—damp earth and rotting flesh. How they shuffled along until there was meat, then sprinted with single-minded determination.

  “What about their blood?” Hector asked. “Is it red, green, thick, thin?”

  “Blackish green. I don’t know how thick it is.” I remembered the night we met Amber, how that gang of men killed a bunch of Floraes, how their blood splattered against the sidewalk and pooled into the street. “Actually, it’s fairly thick, like syrup.”

  Hector scribbled in his notebook before he looked up at me. “They don’t eat anything but meat. I think they get the rest of their nourishment from the sun.”

  “What?” I asked, doubtful. “You figured that out in five seconds from greenish-black sludge-blood?”

  “No, it’s been right in our faces the whole time,” he explained. “What are they called?”

  “Floraes?” I felt dense.

  “Florae is short for Florae-sapien. They’re plant people. It was so obvious, but they don’t educate us about the Floraes.”

  “It makes sense,” Vivian said. “They’re green. They need the sun. They like to be underground at night.”

  “They know,” Andrew spoke for the first time. “The people who run New Hope, they don’t want us talking about it.”

  “What? Why not?” I asked. “Any knowledge that the people of New Hope have about the Floraes would only serve to help them. Wouldn’t it?”

  Hector gave me a pointed look. “I don’t know. None of us have ever been asked to study them. Maybe the people in charge decided it wasn’t important?”

  Meaning my mother decided: she and her creepy colleague Dr. Reynolds.

  Suddenly Jacob looked grim. “Guys, maybe we should lay off the Florae talk. We don’t want to end up like Frank.”

  “What happened to Frank?” I asked. A heavy silence followed and everyone looked uncomfortable.

  “He was working on an undesirable project and was told to stop,” Jacob explained quietly. “He wouldn’t, so he was sent to the Ward.”

  I looked at him. “I thought the Ward was supposed to be for people who were mentally unstable. What was his project?”

  “Not sure,” Jacob told us, “but I know he wanted to study a Florae up close. It’s all he talked about. It became an obsession and I think it pushed him over the edge.”

  “But they study them,” I said. “The Guardians do, in the wild,” I quickly added, not wanting to scare anyone, especially after Rice’s warning.

  “So they must know a lot,” Haley chimed in.

  “Like where they came from?” I asked. I turned to Hector. “Any clues about that?”

  He shook his head.

  “The news said they were aliens,” Tracey offered.

  “But I’ve seen them, up close. They don’t have the intellect to turn a d
oor handle; I don’t think they could have manned spaceships.”

  “Why don’t you just ask the director?” Vivian asked me.

  “My mother doesn’t talk to me about these things,” I admitted. “She’s a master at changing the subject.”

  “Amy, she would have the answers,” Hector said. “If anyone does.”

  “If they don’t like us to talk about the Floraes and don’t want anyone to know that they’re studying them, they know something they don’t think we can handle,” Andrew told us.

  “What are they keeping from us?” Hector asked, dismayed.

  “I don’t know,” I quietly replied.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  “I’m concerned about her test scores,” the older man tells Dr. Thorpe in the hallway. I heard them out there, muttering, so I got off my bed and knelt down next to the door. “It’s not unusual for scores to worsen when a citizen is in the Ward, but Amy didn’t even try. She’s given up.”

  “What do you think the problem is, Dr. Samuels?” Dr. Thorpe asks, concerned.

  “If your goal is rehabilitation, you should ease up on the sedatives,” Dr. Samuels tells her firmly.

  “Ms. Harris has been exhibiting some highly erratic behavior,” Dr. Thorpe explains. “Her medication is the only thing keeping her from a complete relapse.”

  “Then try something else.” He sighs loudly. “Dr. Reynolds mentioned to me that he is investigating some alternative procedures. He’s had encouraging results with electroshock therapy in several patients.”

  “Yes,” Dr. Thorpe tells him. “Dr. Reynolds also mentioned electroshock to me. . . . At the time I didn’t think it was appropriate for Ms. Harris. What’s your opinion?”

  “Perhaps . . . ,” Dr. Samuels suggests hesitantly, “Amy would benefit from such a treatment.”

  “I’ll take your recommendation under consideration and consult again with Dr. Reynolds,” Dr. Thorpe promises. “Thank you, Dr. Samuels.”

  I hear footsteps echoing down the hall and I rest my head on the floor. Dr. Samuels had promised to tell my mother how I was doing. She wouldn’t let them do any of this to me, would she? But what if he’d only said that to placate me? I barely know him. He’d only given me a few tests before I was assigned my class.

  Suddenly a memory comes to me. Advanced Theory. Vivian, Tracey, Hector, and Andrew, all sitting around talking about the Floraes, and how someone was sent to the Ward for probing too deeply. Frank. He would be here. Maybe I could find him. He could answer some questions for me.

  Or maybe I could get a message to Vivian. If Rice couldn’t help me, she would find a way. Vivian’s so smart and I know she’s someone I can trust. She’ll be here for me, just like she was when I first got to New Hope. She’ll help me if she can.

  • • •

  When school was over for the day, Vivian caught up with me outside class and handed me a lumpy brown muffin. “I saved this for you. You didn’t eat much lunch.”

  “Thanks.” I nibbled at the bran muffin, not really all that hungry.

  “Um, Amy.” She looked anxious. “I wanted to talk to you. You might want to cool it on all the questions. Some things are best left alone. You don’t want to be sent to the Ward.” She was twirling her long brown hair around her fingers. I’d noticed that about her: she was always fiddling with something. If it wasn’t her hair, then it was a pencil, or her gold cross necklace.

  “What is all this about the Ward all the time? It’s starting to sound like a bad joke. What exactly is the Ward?”

  “It’s a place where citizens can go to get better,” she said automatically.

  “Yes, I’ve heard that before. But if that’s true, then why wouldn’t I want to go there?”

  She shook her head, her eyes almost pleading. “People don’t usually come back from the Ward. If you go there, you go there to stay.”

  My chest was oppressively tight. I took in a deep breath, releasing it slowly. “But how do they determine if you need to go there?”

  “They base some of it on your psyche-eval. . . . You had one, didn’t you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good,” Vivian sighed, relieved. “Then you won’t have another one for six months.” She squeezed my arm. “You’ll be fine, Amy. I didn’t mean to freak you out or anything. Just remember what I told you—no more questions.”

  I returned her smile but I didn’t feel reassured. Now that I really understood what the Ward was, I felt panicked.

  What would happen to Baby if I were sent away?

  • • •

  Later, the door opens, hitting me on my shoulder.

  “Amy!” Dr. Thorpe yells in surprise. “What are you doing on the floor?”

  “I . . .” I get up slowly. “I don’t know.” I should be more careful.

  “Let’s get you back in bed.” Dr. Thorpe helps me over to the bed. “Amy, I have to admit, I’m a little concerned about your behavior.”

  I sit down and stare at her. The word electroshock still rings in my ears. I have a flashback to my old house, the electric fence. The Floraes sparking as they touch it, trying to reach me. Trying to kill me. Tears begin to flow down my face. “I’m not going home, am I?”

  “No. Not yet, Amy.” Dr. Thorpe frowns. “We haven’t decided just yet how best to help you. But we will,” she assures me. “We will help you.”

  I nod unhappily. What if this is it? What if I have to suffer under Dr. Thorpe’s idea of help? Being drugged and tortured. Rice promised to get me out of here. Where is he? Where are my friends? Where is my mother?

  I rub my arms, trying to suppress the panic rising inside of me. If anyone is coming, they need to be quick about it. I may not live through my treatments. I may not survive the Ward.

  “Rice,” I whisper after Dr. Thorpe is gone. “Please hurry.”

  • • •

  “Amy!” Rice called. He jogged over to me, pushing up his glasses. His shaggy, blond hair disheveled. I wanted to tell him what I discovered about the Floraes, what I’m sure he already knew, but I decided against it. I trusted Rice just as I trusted Vivian, but her warning had left me spooked and cautious.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a yellow jumper. “Baby!” I yelled. She rushed into my arms. I picked her up and swung her around, relieved to see she was grinning.

  How was it? I asked, smiling.

  Amy, it was sooooo fan! We went to the farm. I saw all the animals from my farm book and I got to ride a horse, a real one. It was big and a little scary, but I want to go back. They said I could, but not for a while.

  What else did you do? I asked.

  I learned this. She shoved a piece of paper in my face and I looked at it. I wanted to cry. Scrawled across in chicken-scratch letters was B-A-B-Y. This means my name, she told me.

  I am so proud of you, I said. We didn’t have a word for proud, but happy happy at your work got the point across. Her face glowed with pleasure.

  Here, this is for you. She handed me a sealed envelope. My mother’s name was neatly typed on the outside, but I ripped it open.

  “Amy, should you be reading that?” Rice asked.

  “Sure, why not?” I scanned the page. It was Baby’s evaluation. She scored a zero for verbal, no surprise there, but was good at reasoning and information retention. At the bottom was a handwritten note. “Baby” shows a willingness to learn and gets along very well with the other children. We hope to progress quickly with her writing and we will continue to encourage verbalization, which we have yet to witness. She shows an aptitude for handling animals, which we will investigate further. She will, perhaps, in the future, be most comfortable as a farmworker or a veterinarian.

  After one day they were already discussing what Baby would do as an adult?

  “Rice, where’s my evaluation?” I asked.

  “Dr. Samuels gave it to me. I gave it to your mother unopened,” he stressed.

  And Amy, Baby waved to get my attention, I played a game where you jump over a piece
of rope and I fell on my butt. I think I’m okay except I might have a bruise.

  “She’s excited,” Rice said.

  “It was her first first day of school and she’s never been around other kids before.” I was sick with relief. I let Baby prattle on until she ran out of steam and just grinned happily. Her hair was disheveled so I fixed it, fastening it into a high ponytail. Rice watched me with a scowl and reached over to undo her hair, redoing the ponytail lower so it covered Baby’s neck.

  “Rice, what are you doing?” I asked.

  “It looked a little too tight,” he explained crisply.

  “Um, okay.” It was strange for him to snap like that.

  “Sorry, it’s just that we should head over to orientation,” Rice told me gently. “If we start soon, you can review all the recordings before dinner.”

  “Sure, sounds good,” I said, realizing I must have just annoyed him. Or maybe he was irritated I’d opened the evaluation addressed to my mother.

  I shook off my unease as we walked and explained to Baby that she was going to watch a program, then tell me what she understood about it. Baby took my hand, but her fingers were still as she processed her day.

  We walked past several white buildings until the road narrowed and we reached a cement path. The buildings started to look less alike, more quirky, and some were brick, but all were badly in need of a paint job. There weren’t many people around, and after a while I asked Rice where, exactly, we were going.

  “Orientation is on the outskirts. We try to contain the post-aps until we know what we are dealing with.”

  “Have there been any problems?” I remembered how Rice and I first met, and smiled sheepishly. “Uh, like mine?” I still felt guilty about pulling a gun on him.

  “People sometimes freak. Mostly they’re just appreciative. The psyche-eval usually weeds out the troublemakers, though not always.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Rice looked at me, considering carefully what to say. “Last year we found a boy with limited mental faculties. He was about ten, which would make him six or seven when it happened. It was amazing he’d survived so long, but he didn’t integrate well into New Hope. He had to be expelled.”