Sophie Littlefield - Aftertime

“We’re armed because we have to be,” Evangeline said. “As long as there are people like you around-murderers and insurrectionists. But there are many more of us, as you well know. For every nut who wants to be Davy Crockett, there’s fifty who know that community’s built on strong leadership.”

“I’m no murderer,” Smoke said. “I was acting to prevent more violence. Which, I should point out, we had very little of until you people showed up.”

“We know a lot about you,” the other man, the one who hadn’t yet spoken, said. He was an unremarkable man of average height and small eyes. The most interesting thing about him, in fact, was how entirely without expression his face was, as though nothing that had happened in his life had made a lasting impression. “ Smoke . Or should I call you Edward? Eddy? Ted? Am I close?”

“If you know so much about me,” Smoke said tightly, “then I should think you know the answer.”

He chuckled, a dry, scratchy sound. “Okay. Got me there, big guy. Edward Schaffer. While we’re at it, I’m Cole and that’s Nyland. Pleased to make your acquaintance. You’re a man of many accomplishments.”

“I was a coach. A counselor. Nothing more.”

More rough amusement. “You’re far too modest, Ed. I mean Smoke . Got to admit, I’m torn here. I don’t really get this renaming shit, like after the Siege suddenly everyone’s hatching out of eggs all over again. Way I see it, we’re all the same as when we went in. Just the dice got rolled a little different this time around for some of us.”

He picked up a pencil and tapped it on the table. “I know who you used to work for, buddy,” he said softly. “And we all know what they did. A lot of people suffered, but there’s a chance to make things right for the ones who are still here. A time for justice, maybe.”

Cass looked back and forth between the men, trying to understand. Who had Smoke worked for? What had he done?

“Cole’s an idealist,” Evangeline said. “I’m more of a practical person. An opportunist, you might say. And I’ll be honest with you-when you two showed up tonight, I saw an opportunity. To take a strong and public stand against insurrection.”

Smoke made a sound in his throat-disgust, contempt-and his hand tightened on Cass’s leg. She sensed that many of his emotions battled for prominence-but fear was not among them.

“You were of no interest to me,” Evangeline continued, staring directly at Cass. “But in the last half hour, that has changed. And now you are far, far, more interesting than anything else that has happened in a long while.”

Cass blinked, trying to maintain eye contact with the woman, but Evangeline’s words chilled her.

“Can you guess why?” Evangeline asked her, very softly.

Cass could guess. Dread collected like dew in her mind, the words echoing and reverberating . Interesting. Far more interesting . She ran her fingers through what was left of her hair, tugging at the ends, wanting to wrap them around her face, hide herself from scrutiny.

Had Elaine sold her out?

Had her old friend been tortured into it? Or rewarded?

“You think I’m…” Cass whispered, hating her voice for shaking.

“I know what you are. I’ve seen it before, and I know what to look for. I can tell from your eyes…and the way your hair is growing in, and there’s only one way you get marks like you have on your arms. Let me see.”

Before Cass could stop her, Evangeline seized her arm and ran her strong, cold hands up and down the surface, fingertips tracing the faded scars. The touch was intimate, far too familiar, and Cass reacted with revulsion. She wanted to yank back her hand. She wanted to run. She wanted to wipe the traces of Evangeline’s touch from her skin.

“Have you ever met another one like you?” Evangeline asked, unable to contain a jittering hint of excitement.

Cass hesitated. Others, like her? Those who had been attacked, bitten, infected…and lived? Was it possible?

How long had it been that she felt alone, since she carried her shame with her like a skin? “What do you mean?”

“Outliers,” Evangeline said, her lips curving into a perfect, chilly smile. “People like you, who survived an attack. Who got better. Who fought off the infection.”

So it was true. Disbelief mixed with wild hope as Cass allowed herself to consider the possibility. Just knowing there were others…they could all be like her, weakened, damaged…but still, she would not be alone. The idea was intoxicating.

“I’m not saying I believe you but…how could anyone do that?” she asked, trying to keep her enthusiasm hidden.

Evangeline’s smile grew broader. She knew she had won.

“Nobody knows,” she said. “Not yet anyway. But our people are working on it. They’re studying people like you. Working on developing a vaccine.”

“That isn’t possible,” Smoke said flatly. “Don’t listen to this, Cass.”

“Who are you to say what’s possible?” Evangeline demanded, raising her voice, fury twisting her mouth. “How far have you traveled? Do you even know what’s happening outside this town? This county? ”

“I thought you people didn’t use the word county anymore,” Smoke said, meeting Evangeline’s anger with his own. He had gone very still next to Cass, his energy coiled and tense. “I thought you believed those designations were meaningless Aftertime.”

Evangeline’s fine skin flushed a faint pink and she glared at Smoke. The others in the room waited, eyes on their leader. At last she gave a small nod.

“You’re right, of course, Smoke. Land divisions from Before, they don’t make much sense anymore…but that’ll change. Do you have the faintest idea what’s going on at the borders?”

“The borders? The borders are a myth,” Smoke snapped. “Blueleaf crossed the state line the first time a strong wind came up. And you get one Beater with a bad sense of direction, he’ll be up to Oregon or down to Mexico and never know the difference.”

“You have no idea,” Evangeline said softly, drawing out the words, enjoying them.

“We’re less than sixty miles from the Nevada border, as the crow flies. If they’d armed it, we’d know.”

Evangeline laughed, a rich, throaty laugh full of pleasure.

“What’s so funny,” Cass demanded.

“It’s…it’s not funny. It’s sad, really,” Evangeline said, wiping a mirthful tear from the corner of her eye. “Sad in so many ways…sad that even intelligent people like the two of you can be so naive.”

Smoke tightened his hands to fists and laid them on the table. His jaw worked with fury as he leaned forward, closing the distance between him and Evangeline.

“Say what you mean,” he muttered.

“Oh, all right, fine,” Evangeline said, almost pouting-as though he had knocked down a game of checkers. “The border isn’t California. It’s the Rockies, all the way down to the Colorado River. They’ve cut off half the fucking country.”

CASS HELD HER BREATH.

It wasn’t possible. The Rockies…in her mind she called up the map from her high school Geography textbook, the West laid out in shades of sienna and gold and peach and russet. California stretching all the way down to the Baja Peninsula, up to Washington and Oregon. Idaho, Nevada, Utah, Arizona…thousands and thousands of miles stretching out to the Pacific Ocean to the west, and the mountains to the east.

No one could contain that, no matter how many fences they built, no matter how many volunteers they armed, how many mines they laid…could they? And not with the American government effectively gone .