Sophie Littlefield - Aftertime

She scrambled to her feet, but it was too late.

“Oh good Lord,” Mother Cora exclaimed. “Let me see you, child.”

She put a hand on Cass’s shoulder, her fingertips cool and her touch light. Cass flinched, but there was nowhere to go. Hannah, do you see? ”

Silence. Then, tentatively: “See what? ”

“Don’t be afraid,” Mother Cora said. “You’re the new girl, aren’t you?”

Cass nodded.

Very gently, Cora took Cass’s arm and turned her so that Hannah had an unobstructed view of her back.

Hannah gasped.

“She was attacked,” Mother Cora said. “By the fallen. You were attacked, weren’t you, dear? And yet here you are. You found your way here. The Lord brought you to us.”

Cass said nothing. There was something chilling in the contrast between Mother Cora’s soft, gentle voice and the sparking intensity in her eyes. Despite the kindness of her words, Cass now felt more afraid of her than she did of Hannah.

“You were healed . Weren’t you.”

Cass didn’t dare speak.

“Healed through prayer?”

“I, um, don’t know…” What answer would serve her best?

“Were others praying over you? When you were bitten? Did they save you?”

“I don’t remember. I don’t remember anything after I was attacked, until I…woke up.”

Mother Cora put out a finger, and touched it to the edge of one of Cass’s wounds. The touch felt strange and uncomfortable, but not painful. She traced the shape of the wound, the skimmed-over layers of healing skin sensitive to her touch.

“You woke up,” Mother Cora repeated. “And were people praying, then?”

“I…” An idea occurred to her. “Yes.” It was a reckless idea, but if it worked, maybe it would let her see Ruthie one more time. “I was in and out of consciousness for a while, and when I was awake, there were children praying over me. Young ones. They were saying… They were chanting something and then I slept and when I woke up again they were gone. And-and I was healed.”

Cora sucked in her breath. “Where?” she demanded, excitement making her voice shrill. “Where did this happen? Where were the children?”

“Outside of town. In a field,” Cass said, desperately hoping she wasn’t making a terrible mistake. If this worked, she would get to see Ruthie. And then- Dear God, I promise -then she would leave the Convent, leave Ruthie in the hands of women who could at least keep her safe.

“She’s lying,” Hannah snapped. “Let me get Brenda, she’ll get the truth out of her-”

“You’ll do no such thing!” Mother Cora scolded. “Come here, Hannah. I want you to see this. Here. And here…the flesh is rebuilding itself.”

She bent close to Cass’s back. Cass stood very still. The women’s scrutiny was a unique and burning mortification, but one she would endure.

“She could be contagious,” Hannah protested.

“Nonsense. She’s been prayed back to health, isn’t it obvious? It’s what I’ve said since the start. We just didn’t know about the children. We didn’t know it had to be children. It’s as it says in Psalms- Like arrows in the hand of a warrior are the children .”

“She’s making that up-she’s-”

“Oh, dear Lord, this is a day I’ve been waiting for, a day I’ve prayed for.” Mother Cora clasped her hands together and pressed them under her chin, beaming.

Cass looked from one woman to the other, their disparate expressions magnified by the shadows cast by the lantern light. Mother Cora’s rapt excitement. Fear and disbelief on Hannah’s face. Reluctantly, Hannah joined Mother Cora in examining the wounds. Cass tried to stay calm despite their proximity, barely breathing.

“I need to decide how best to share this news,” Mother Cora mused. “There is so much to do. Oh, Cassandra, you are such a gift to us. A reward for our faith.”

She turned to Hannah. “For tonight, I think it’s best we keep her away from the others. I want to make the most of this. We’ll convene later, and figure out what to do, but for now let’s keep her in one of the reflection rooms. But make her comfortable. Do you understand me, Hannah? Comfortable .”

“Yes,” Hannah said reluctantly, casting a malevolent glare at Cass.

“I’m sorry,” Mother Cora said, taking Cass’s hand in hers and squeezing it. “I don’t want you to feel like a prisoner here-when you are so much more. Oh, Cassandra…you are going to bring such a great gift to all of us. Do you know what that is?”

Cass shook her head, afraid to speak, afraid to make the wrong guess.

“Faith,” Mother Cora whispered, and that single word was like a coin tossed, its bright-burning and dark sides flashing in the air, and Cass knew that no matter which side the coin landed on, something terrible would follow.

ONCE MOTHER CORA LEFT, CASS FINISHED dressing. Hannah stared stonily out the window into the night, arms crossed, biting her lip in barely masked fury.

When Cass was ready, Hannah opened a desk drawer and took out a gun. “I know how to use this, so don’t get any ideas,” she said, slipping it into a pocket of her skirt.

They walked through the echoing corridor, now silent, nearly all the women having gone to their rooms for the night. They followed the corridor past the entrances onto the field and descended a ramp to the level below the field. They passed locker rooms and physical therapy facilities and, finally, a series of storage rooms and small offices.

“Here we are,” Hannah said with fake cheer. “I’m sure Cora would like me to give you the honeymoon suite, seeing as how she thinks you’re the second coming and all. But she never comes down here, so I wouldn’t plan on submitting any complaints if you don’t like the accommodations.”

She stopped in front of a steel door.

“Don’t worry,” Hannah said. “It’s perfectly adequate. At least, we don’t hear many complaints.”

She pulled the chain from her neck, a half-dozen keys jangling. But instead of opening the door she balled the keys in her fist and stepped closer to Cass. “Look. I don’t know what happened to you, who made those marks on your back, and I’m sure it would be awfully convenient for everyone if you really were miraculously healed. But guess what-I don’t believe you.”

She leaned in so only inches separated them, her hot breath on Cass’s face.

“I. Don’t. Believe. You,” she repeated, pausing for emphasis on each word. “I don’t know what your angle is and I don’t know how you figure you’re going to work it. But there’s no such thing as healing. Don’t you think that if there was, we would have found it?”

“I don’t know,” Cass shrugged, trying to project indifference. “If all you’re doing is standing around praying all day, I’m not sure you would have. From what I’ve seen-”

“What you’ve seen was a whole lot of shit,” Hannah said, her face darkening with rage. “Which I guess we both know now. But you have no right to judge me. No right.”

“I didn’t-”

“Shut up,” Hannah said, stabbing the bunch of keys into Cass’s sternum, sending her stumbling backward. “ Shut up. Unlike you, I came here because I’m a believer. And you know what I believe in? The future. I will do whatever I have to do to build the Order into something that works. A community. A life . Even if I have to put up with Cora’s insane little Beater project.”

“But what about me?” Cass demanded, figuring she had nothing to lose. “That part’s true-I really was healed.”

Hannah shook her head, lips pressed tight together in fury. “You don’t have any proof. So you’ve got some marks on your back-that could have been anything. An accident. I don’t know, some form of mumps or something you caught from your gutter-trash boyfriend. You didn’t get better from prayer, you just…got better.”