Sophie Littlefield - Aftertime

“Okay,” Cass muttered, chastened.

“Nearly everyone’s at dinner right now and I have to get back. When I open this door I’ll go create a distraction in the courtyard. You’ll only have a moment. Run to the east entrance-you know the one? You remember?”

“Yes…”

“Smoke will meet you there. He’ll have your packs. He’ll know where to go. Do not talk, just follow him.”

Cass nodded, and only when the man opened the door and let a swath of light in did she notice that he was wearing the khaki shirt of the Rebuilders.

THE STRANGER SLIPPED OUT AS QUIETLY AS HE’D entered. Cass waited, listening hard. She heard his footsteps retreating down the hall, then nothing. She tested the door and found it unlocked.

But the thought that she would need to run away from the place that had meant safety to her just a short time ago seemed ludicrous. How was it possible to find enough to disagree about Aftertime that you could fight and kill over it?

The priorities were so stark. Live another day. Protect others, if you can. Eat and drink and sleep. Care for the children. Everything else-washing, learning, creating, loving-were luxuries rarely indulged…but they haunted people’s minds still. The dream of starting over ran deep.

At first, the rumors flew that the End Times had arrived. That the planet itself was dying. Defoliation would kill everyone on the planet in a matter of weeks-that was a popular theory for a while, until people figured out that not all of the plants were threatened. Then the kaysev seeds sprouted and the new panic was that it would choke out all other species and leach all the nutrients from the earth, but soon it became obvious that where kaysev grew, other plants that had survived the Siege returned and flourished.

Over and over the apocalypse theories were proved wrong. Earth did what She would; She chose life. If She was indifferent to the fate of humanity, She seemed unstoppable in her determination to restore health to Her forests and mountains and waters, as every new day seemed to bring a sprig or seedling of some species that was thought to be lost, or a flash of a silvery fish tail in the stream, or the sound of birdsong in the morning. And that’s when people started talking about a future, one in which the planet found a way to host the survivors.

Not everyone looked ahead, of course. There were those who gave up. Who believed it was only a matter of time before the Beaters prevailed or the blueleaf redoubled or the kaysev fell to winter frosts.

But the numbers of the hopeful were greater. Had been, anyway. People were hungry for leadership-that was why Bobby had risen so quickly and easily. No one opposed him; everyone was happy to defer to his natural ability to organize and encourage and parcel out tasks and resources and decide disputes.

But Bobby was dead.

They found his body on the rocks.

Cass’s heart contracted at the thought, and she leaned against the door frame, struggling under the weight of her guilt and the pain of yet another loss, when she heard the clatter.

It was muffled, but there was definitely the sound of crockery breaking on the floor, followed by cursing.

She didn’t wait. Her feet moved on their own; she flew down the hall past the conference room before her thoughts caught up, and by then it was too late to do anything but keep running. She took the corner fast. This was the worst of it, the place where she could be spotted by anyone looking in her direction. She heard the voices much more clearly now, as she flattened herself against the wall and slunk toward the door to the outside. When her fingers touched the metal bar of the door’s push mechanism, she took a chance and looked backward. Silhouetted against the light pouring into the hall from the door to the courtyard was her rescuer, holding a large plastic tub while several people knelt at his feet picking up broken dishes.

Cass took a deep breath and pushed against the door.

Before, it would have been electronically armed, but without electricity the security system was useless. Now the door had a bulky padlock, but it swung free, the arm looped through only one half of the device, and the door opened and Cass found herself in a pool of late-day sun that made her blink.

“I’m here. Come on, now .” Smoke’s voice, and then Smoke’s hand seized hers and pulled hard and she was running next to him, straining to keep up. Her eyes adjusted to the light and she saw that they were headed for the alley running behind the library and city hall, across the staff parking spaces and the bike rack, skirting a row of dead shrubs and abandoned cars.

Halfway down the alley was a low brick building with a flat roof, a restaurant of some kind. There was still a smell of rotting garbage that lingered even after all these months, and Cass-who had seen and smelled things a thousand times worse-found herself gagging on the smell as Smoke pulled her beneath an overhang of wood slats.

“Take this,” he said, handing her the pack that Elaine had taken from her. It was heavier than it had been the night before in the library.

“What’s in it?”

“Supplies. Rations. Weapons. You can look later. For now, we need to put as much distance between us and them as we can before they find out we’re gone. And that’s going to be just a few minutes, I can pretty much guarantee it.”

Cass pulled the pack onto her shoulders and shrugged it into place.

“Can you handle the weight?”

“Yes-” Cass broke off when she saw that Smoke was holding a compact handgun. “Where the hell did you get that? ”

“Our…benefactors,” Smoke muttered. “I wasn’t expecting it. Wish I could say I was confident I could use it.”

“You don’t know how to shoot?”

“I’ve shot some. When I was a kid. Rifles, mostly, duck hunting with my uncles. I know enough not to shoot myself or you by accident, let’s put it that way.”

Cass thought about what the stranger had told her, that Smoke had killed three men. Tried to imagine him staring down the barrel. Pulling the trigger. Found that it wasn’t that much of a stretch. There was something about him, some dormant powerful fury, that she could sense lurking under the surface. To her surprise, it didn’t frighten her. It almost seemed…familiar, a bitter mix of regret and deadly determination.

Cass herself could handle a gun. She had learned to shoot her dad’s.22 on a series of clear, cold January mornings when she was ten. She’d shot magazine pages nailed to trees, her father clapping her on the back and laughing whenever she hit one.

“I don’t suppose you have another, do you?”

“Sorry,” Smoke said. “But would you rather be the one to carry it?”

Cass raised her eyebrows, surprised that he was willing to put his safety in her hands. “Um, no, that’s okay.”

“Okay, well.” Smoke faltered. “Anyway, I’m hoping we won’t need it. We’re only going about three-quarters of a mile.”

“To another shelter?”

“No. Look, Cass, the resistance has gotten pretty organized. They’ve got resources hidden all over the place up here. And they must be pretty keen on getting us out, because they’re giving us a motorcycle.”

“What?”

“I know, I know, I’ll believe it when we see it, but Herkim-the guy who came for you-he told me where to find it and says it’s gassed up and ready.”

“And all we have to do is get there before the Beaters get us. In daylight, in the middle of town.”

Smoke touched his hand to the small of her back. “It’s sunset,” he said gently. “That’s not nearly as bad.”

If it was a lie, it was a lie told to protect her. Cass thought about what the stranger had told her in the cell: Smoke wouldn’t leave without you . She watched him out of the corner of her eye as they hurried along the alley, dodging clumps of garbage and the desiccated remains of cats and rodents flattened by fleeing traffic and left to rot.