In the After

by Demitria Lunetta

  “I found out my mother is responsible for the apocalypse,” I whispered.

  “What . . .?” His jaw dropped.

  “I know the secret . . . about the Floraes. I know what they are.” I reached into my pocket and fished out his key card, holding it up. He took it back solemnly and sat next to me on the couch.

  “I killed Vivian,” I told him, unable to meet his gaze.

  “No you didn’t. Even if you killed a Florae that used to be Vivian . . . it wasn’t her. Vivian is gone.” He reached out to me but I shrank away. “Have you told anyone?” he asked.

  “Not yet, but people deserve to know the truth.”

  “Amy, come on. Let’s talk about this. . . . I think you just need to cool off. There are a lot of things you think you may know, but really you have no idea.”

  “Like what, Rice? What else could I possibly not know?” I was close to sobbing again.

  He put his hand on my back. “I . . . ,” he began just as Baby burst through the door.

  Happy birthday, Amy! she signed, running over to us. Did you pass your test today? Are we having a double party tonight? She turned to Rice. Hi, Rice. Do you want to hear about school today? It was fan. We were put into groups and had to solve a puzzle. My group was the fastest. . . .

  “Hannah, not now. I have to talk to Amy—” Rice clapped his hand on his mouth, alarmed.

  Baby took a step back, her eyes wide. She stared at Rice with an intensity I’d never seen before. Then she opened her mouth and sounded out the syllables.

  “Han-naaa.” Her voice was soft and hesitant. I couldn’t believe the sound came from her. That’s me, she signed slowly, Before.

  I leaped up and hugged her, the tears pouring down. Baby could talk. She had a name. I turned to Rice, who was watching us with a look of dread. “How did you know her name?” I demanded.

  Rice was breathing heavily. “I think maybe you should sit back down, Amy.”

  I went to the couch and pulled Baby onto my lap, unwilling to let her go.

  “I . . . I don’t know where to start. . . .” He took off his glasses and cleaned them on his lab coat before returning them to his face. “Baby—her name was Hannah then—was in foster care, just like I was. Hutsen-Prime chose us. Some of us, the older kids, they tested us and singled us out. We were given special treatment, an education beyond anything we could ever hope for. Some of the children . . . the little ones . . . they took care of them. They also used them for experimentation.”

  Baby was an experimental subject? Suddenly it was all clear and the truth hit me like a brick. “Is that why she has that mark on her neck?” I asked.

  “Yes. The research team your mother was working with was not only looking for a weapon; they were looking for an antidote. Something ally soldiers could take to keep them immune from the bacteria.”

  “What does that have to do with . . . ?” I sucked in a breath. “They were testing the bacteria on children?”

  Rice sighed. “Children who had no family, who were lost in the system. Children who wouldn’t be missed if they had an adverse reaction. The mark is the injection site.”

  I hugged Baby close. I couldn’t bear to think of her as Hannah, as some test subject with no parents to protect her. “And you were a part of all that?”

  “To a small degree, yes. I was still only a child myself.” He looked at Baby. “They lost so many of their original research subjects. . . . When I saw Baby that day, when I saw the mark, I remembered her. She was always so playful, so friendly with the other children. She was one of my favorites. Amy, I knew her. I have been trying to protect her.”

  “Do you think she is immune?” I thought of the wound on her leg. Was it a Florae bite?

  “I . . . don’t know. I’ve been secretly testing her blood but I haven’t found anything that would help us.”

  “You’ve been testing her? Rice, if my mother found out . . .” If Dr. Reynolds found out.

  “I don’t know what they would do to her,” he admitted. “I’ve tried to keep her under the radar.”

  “You’ve been keeping her safe,” I said, seeing Rice with new eyes. “Please, you have to keep helping her. I might not always be around.” I started to tell him about Baby’s hearing.

  “I know.” He smiled. Baby told me, he signed. “I’ll protect her.”

  I was only allowed a moment of shock before the door opened loudly. I turned, expecting my mother had come to check on me, but instead I was greeted by Marcus and two members of the Elite Eight. I scrambled to my feet but immediately Marcus grabbed me and pulled me away from Baby.

  “Sorry, kid,” he said, “I have to follow orders.”

  “Rice!” I looked to him, pleading.

  “What is this about?” Rice asked, his voice surprisingly forceful. He moved closer to me and took my hand.

  “I don’t answer to you,” Marcus sneered.

  “Not yet, but you may one day,” Rice reminded him.

  Surprisingly that made Marcus pause. “Talk to Dr. Reynolds. He gave me strict orders.” Marcus dragged me toward the door.

  “Rice!” I screamed as my hand slipped out of his.

  Baby tried to follow but I signed, Stay with Rice. He will keep you safe. The last thing I saw was Rice’s horrified face as he clutched a crying Baby.

  In the hall, they shoved me into a large body bag, and Marcus hefted me to his shoulder, carrying me like I was a sack of laundry. I wanted to fight, to lash out, but I knew I couldn’t take on Marcus plus two of his muscle-bound cronies. I was shoved onto a hard surface and heard a motor start.

  After a short ride, they carried me somewhere inside a building—I could hear doors opening and closing as I was moved around. They dropped me and untied the top of the bag before they left, locking the door. I wriggled out of the bag onto a cold linoleum floor. The small room was dark but I could make out a bed, a sink, a toilet. I lay still and miserable, unable to bring myself to move. Hopeless, I closed my eyes and wrapped my arms around my head, hoping to drown out the world.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  “You seem different, Amy.” Dr. Reynolds is sitting across from me again, in my room in the Ward. This is my latest psyche-eval, the one my mother orchestrated. “Perhaps your treatments have been more effective than we anticipated.”

  “I am different.” I smile. They haven’t given me medication in days so I’d be clear enough to talk to Dr. Reynolds, not knowing that I’d neutralized the pills weeks ago. “I understand now what you’re trying to do here.”

  “And what’s that?” he asks, curious.

  “Maintain humanity.”

  “Not just maintain, Amy. Improve.”

  I have to concentrate hard not to laugh. “Improve, yes, I see that.”

  “Your mother seems to think that you’ve handled certain information quite well.”

  “Such as?” I don’t want to give anything away.

  “That there are Floraes in New Hope. That we perform tests on them.”

  “Yes. I’ve adjusted my way of thinking. I know it’s for the good of the community.” I’m keeping my responses short so I don’t mess up. I just have to convince him. I just have to get out of the Ward. I can squirrel away supplies, learn how to fly a hover-copter. One night I’ll sneak Baby out. We can live like we did before we came here.

  “Do you know why you were placed here, Amy?”

  Because your first murder attempt failed. “Because I needed help. This is where citizens go to receive the help they need.”

  He flips through his notebook. “When we first spoke . . . I flagged you as possibly subversive,” he says, surprisingly blunt.

  “I was just interested in learning about New Hope,” I try to explain.

  “Yes, I noted that as well.” He reads from his book. “A. Harris has an extremely curious disposition, prying into matters that are beyond her clearance level as a new citizen of New Hope.”

  “What else?” I ask, unsure why he’s telling me this.
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  “A. Harris has an unnatural attachment to a post-ap she calls Baby. This child has a chance to live a happy, fulfilled life as a citizen, unless unduly influenced by A. Harris. She also has severe PTSD, causing many anger issues and an irrational resentment toward the structured society that defines New Hope. She should be monitored closely for violent behavior and rebellious conduct.” He snaps his notebook shut.

  “And now, because of my treatments, I’m much better,” I tell him.

  He looks at me pointedly. “No. You’re not.”

  I try to stay calm. “I don’t understand.”

  “Amy, your mother is very important to us. Her research is invaluable. If we are to take back the world from the Floraes, we need people like her: smart, dedicated, and loyal. Since you arrived six months ago, your mother has lost some of her focused commitment to New Hope. Now she worries about you . . . for your well-being.”

  “But now I can fit in,” I plead. “Especially if I’m a Guardian. I can devote myself to New Hope. I can defend it.” My voice is strained.

  Dr. Reynolds shakes his head. “Amy, you and I both know there is only one thing to which you are devoted.” I swallow. He means Baby.

  “I’m not getting out of here, am I? This was all for show, to placate my mother.”

  “It’s a shame really, Amy. You’re so smart. You have so much to offer us, but you just can’t be trusted. I know you think that one day, maybe not too far off, you’ll escape from the Ward and leave New Hope behind with Baby at your side.”

  Shaking, I refuse to look at him.

  “I have scheduled a small neurosurgical procedure for you next week.”

  “Neurosurgical?”

  “I have decided we must go in and perform a minor lobotomy.”

  A lobotomy? This can’t be happening. “I am not psychotic,” I whisper.

  “You are extremely violent. Even on your medication, you killed a nurse in an attempt to escape.”

  “What?! I never . . . Is that what you’ll tell my mother?” It suddenly hits me that Dr. Reynolds is, at heart, a sadist. Nothing more, nothing less. He’s only telling me his plans because he wants to revel in my helplessness and my terror. Despite my chill, I feel a warmth rush to my face. I can barely contain my rage.

  He nods. “Yes, and we’ve already told a different story to all of New Hope. That you were wounded while on a mission and are recovering in the Ward from severe injuries. People are inspired by you: the director’s daughter willing to sacrifice life and limb for New Hope. You’ve helped to strengthen our cohesive community, Amy.” His smug smile is sickening.

  “You’ve turned me into a phony martyr,” I hiss. “Why are you telling me all this?”

  “Because I’ve been gauging your reaction.”

  My head snaps up.

  “This was part of your evaluation, and it’s fair to say you have not responded positively.”

  “That was part of my psyche-eval?” I ask. “And the procedure?”

  “That’s entirely up to you, Amy.” He stands to leave. “We’ll see how well you behave.”

  I bite my lip, trying to appear resigned. “How long will I have to behave, to prove myself?”

  “Indefinitely.” He smiles as if I should be pleased by this.

  “Will I ever . . . Can I see Baby?” I ask desperately.

  “No,” he says, enjoying my misery.

  He thinks he’s won. He thinks he knows me, but he has no idea what I am capable of. If I can survive the After, I can survive the Ward.

  I’m not surprised that he comes. Even if Dr. Samuels didn’t relay my message, I knew Rice would be back. I sit quietly, pretending to be medicated.

  “Amy.” He takes my hand. I act as if I’m oblivious, focusing in the general direction of the television.

  I know we’re being watched. It’s a constant thought at the back of my mind, as is Dr. Reynolds’s threat of the lobotomy. Amber’s blank, uncomprehending face flashes through my thoughts and I shiver.

  I give Rice’s hand a tentative squeeze. Rice. I can’t stay here. Reynolds wants me gone. It’s not safe. Help me.

  I will, he signs into my hand. I want to do more, but I’m being watched too. We all are. We have someone on the inside now.

  In the Ward? Dr. Samuels? A glance tells me he’s talked to Rice; he’s on our side.

  We can do this, Rice signs. Our eyes meet and I have to look away before I start to cry. Kay has a plan.

  Yes, I sign. I’m prepared. I’m awake and ready.

  “I should go,” Rice tells me, trying to let go of my hand, but I squeeze it tighter.

  Promise me you’ll look after Baby, I sign. I know she’s found her real name but I’ll never stop thinking of her as Baby, the toddler I found in the After.

  I will, Rice assures me. He pauses and studies the ground. He looks like he has a decision to make and I wait, tense and desperate.

  Rice reaches up to his hair, rubs the back of his neck. He turns slightly and then I see it: a small, diamond scar at the nape of his neck. That’s why he wears his hair so shaggy, to cover the mark. I gasp, then catch myself and try to look drugged and uninterested.

  Then he’s gone and I have to pretend that I have no feelings. All I can do now is wait. Wait and hope.

  I don’t know what time it is when they come for me. It’s after lights-out, and I’m already in bed when two Guardians appear. These are my colleagues. I’d trained with them for four months.

  “How did you get in?” I whisper.

  “Look, sunshine, we don’t have a lot of time.” Kay looks around the sparse room. “Grab what you want to take, quickly.”

  “There’s nothing.”

  I mentally prepare myself for what is to come. If we’re successful, I’ll never see this place again.

  “I’ve disabled the cameras,” Gareth tells me from the door. “We have five minutes to get out.”

  “I’m ready.”

  We make our way silently from the building. Kay uses a key card to open doors and run the elevator. I smile when I see Dr. Reynolds’s name on the side. When they check the system, it will look like Dr. Reynolds himself broke me out of the Ward. How did she manage to get it? Then I grin. Dr. Samuels.

  When we’re out of the building, I head toward the dorms, but Kay stops me. “No, Amy. You can’t take her with you.”

  “I can’t just leave her here.” I can’t abandon Baby.

  Kay gives me a hard look. “Would you really endanger her like that? You have no choice. She does. Which do you think she’ll choose?”

  I know Baby would choose me. She would willingly leave New Hope and go back to the After, just to stay by my side. But with a realization that almost destroys me, I know I can’t do that to her. She’s no longer Baby. She’s Hannah now. I think of her smiling face. She loves it here. She’s happy. She fits into New Hope better than I ever could. She has her own past and her own future, and someone who will look after her. Unlike me, she is safe here. She has Rice.

  I silently nod as the tears stream down my face. Before I can change my mind, I turn away and run to the grove of trees where Gareth is waiting.

  The three of us quickly make our way to the outskirts of New Hope. “The hover-copter is by the lake,” Kay whispers. “Marcus has taken to patrolling the perimeter with the Elite Eight, so keep silent until then.”

  I nod, feeling the heaviness lift and the exhilaration of the night air on my skin. I am no longer in the Ward.

  We soon reach the hover-copter, and Kay and Gareth climb inside. I stop at the door, suddenly choked up again. Baby. Can I really leave her behind? I need to find another home, another place we can live in safety, then I’ll come back.

  “Good-bye, Baby,” I shout at the top of my lungs as we take off. I desperately want her to know that I love her, that I’m not leaving without thinking of her. “I’ll come back for you!” I yell. I know she will hear me. No matter what lies they make up, even if they tell her I am dead, she’ll know the
truth.

  Soon we are in the silent night sky, surrounded by stars with the dark world below us. We are all quiet on our journey and I am grateful. I know that Kay and Gareth—and Rice—have risked everything for me. It’s a debt I can never repay.

  The hover-copter trip takes hours and I fall in and out of a fitful sleep. When we land, I am jerked awake. The door opens and I step out into the new day. Kay and I stand together in the warm morning sun. I smile when I think of our last ride, so many months ago.

  “Thank you, Kay, for getting me out of there. How did you manage to get the hover-copter?”

  “We were ordered to head south and find fresh Floraes for the director.” Kay reaches into the back and starts pulling out supplies. “So that’s what we’re doing. Orders are orders.”

  “And you always follow orders.”

  “Always.” She throws me a large, black pack.

  I place the bag on the ground and rummage through it. It has everything I need: a synth-suit, a Guardian gun with extra ammunition, a small bow with arrows, and a water filter. There are also dehydrated food packs used for camping and a bunch of rechargeable batteries with a solar-powered charger.

  “Rice thought you could trade some of that stuff for supplies later. . . . Neither of us knew what the post-aps were trading these days.”

  “What post-aps?” I ask. Right now I’m more concerned with Floraes.

  “You’re about thirty miles north of Fort Black.” Gareth points to the south and then runs a hand through his silver hair. “You’d better take this.” He tosses me a small black box that looks like an old-school transistor radio. I turn it over in my hands, baffled.

  “It’s a personal sonic emitter,” Gareth explains. “There aren’t many Floraes out here, so it should work like a charm to keep them away. If they hear you coming, they’ll flee. You’ll want to keep it always running, if you turn it on and there’s Floraes inside the sonic radius, they’ll go berserk.”

  “What’s the range?” I ask, filled with overwhelming gratitude to have such an amazing gift. I just may live after all.

  “Only about a hundred feet. It’s got about forty hours of battery life, but you can charge it while it’s on.” He shows me how to pull out the solar panel and how to tell when it’s done charging.