In the After (16 page)

I nodded, understanding completely. We stood for a moment, waiting. “So, should we
go?” I asked eventually.

“Yeah, sure, um, it’s just . . .” He glanced down at my feet.

“Shoes,” I said, smiling. “Right. Wait here.” I felt a little embarrassed as I ran
to my mother’s closet and scanned her few pairs of shoes. Like Rice was picking me
up for a first date and I picked out the wrong outfit. Not that I knew what that felt
like, since my parents never let me date in the Before. In the back of the closet
I found some black rain boots, not too chunky.

I pulled them on; they were a bit big but not unbearable. It was so strange to wear
shoes and I tripped as I left the room.

“Are you okay?” Rice asked, putting out a hand to steady me.

“Yeah,” I said sheepishly. I wiggled my toes in the boots. Even though they had plenty
of room, I felt trapped. “I’m not really used to wearing shoes.” I took a deep breath
and tried to calm down.

“What about for ‘Baby’?” he asked. He said it like it wasn’t really a name. I guess
it really wasn’t. To be fair, neither was Rice.

I shook my head. “I don’t have any for her. The ones my mother left looked way too
big.” Just like my ugly, red jumpsuit.

“The director had to guess your sizes. . . . We can stop by clothing appropriation
and get her a pair.”

“Fan,” I said, making the fanning motion with my right hand so Baby could understand.

Baby smiled.
This whole place is fan
, she signed. I wished I felt the same.

“Fan?” Rice asked, confused.

“You know, like fantastic,” I explained. “It’s a thing that Baby and I say.”

“Oh.” Rice laughed and led us downstairs and outside into a courtyard. People meandered
around, enjoying the sunshine. Baby clung to my arm. I gave her hand a reassuring
squeeze, trying not to show her how overwhelmed I felt. I wasn’t comfortable being
out in the open during the day. The day belonged to Them.

“This is the Quad,” Rice told us. “We’re going to head to the north building, where
the nonperishable goods are stored. You can get clothes and shoes and any other stuff
you need.” He led us to a large, white building that looked like the others.

Inside, it seemed like a campus bookstore, minus the books. The shelves were full
of random items, from soap and toothbrushes to backpacks and clothes. A few dozen
people wandered the aisles, shopping. An older teenage girl looked from one skirt
to another, deciding, while a young, pregnant woman grabbed some cloth diapers and
put them in her cart.

“Usually people are assigned a time to come and pick up the essentials,” Rice explained,
“but since you’re new to New Hope, you two are allowed an unscheduled visit.”

“You have to make an appointment to shop?”

“Yeah, if people didn’t keep to their appointments, a hundred people might show up
at once and clearly”—he motioned around the store—“it would be too crowded. Besides,
it gives the store time to restock between appointments. We have a big warehouse of
nonperishable items that we’ve gathered from the surrounding . . .” He paused, looked
at me. “Are you okay?”

“How many people live here?” I asked shakily.

“Three thousand five hundred and thirty-three,” he answered matter-of-factly. My jaw
dropped and I made a strangled coughing noise.

“They give a daily population update on the news,” Rice explained. “Population growth
and human expansion are our primary concern, for obvious reasons.”

I found a bench nearby and collapsed on it. Baby still held my hand and pressed her
cheek to mine.

What’s wrong?
she asked.

Nothing
. I never imagined so many people survived.

“Rice, where are we? I mean, where is New Hope located?”

“Geographically?” he asked, sitting down next to me.

I nodded and noticed he smelled clean, like soap.

“This was a university in Kansas, but I don’t think state boundaries apply anymore.”

“It looks less like a college campus and more like a military compound,” I said.

“It would. You’ve mostly seen the buildings devoted to research and development. They
were working on some pretty important high-security projects here.”

I looked at him, a frightening thought nagging at me. “Rice, what keeps Them out . . .
the creatures? I didn’t see any fences.”

He looked back at me, smiling. “There aren’t any,” Rice said proudly. “It’s perfectly
safe. We’ve developed a sonic wave that keeps the Floraes away. They have sensitive
hearing and can’t tolerate it.”

“That must be what Baby heard last night. She complained about a humming.”

He frowned, turning toward Baby. “That’s impossible. It’s beyond the range of human
hearing.” He gazed at her intently, an odd look on his face. I didn’t like the way
he was gaping at her, as if something was wrong with her.

“Noise keeps Them out? So, if you know how to get rid of them, why don’t you broadcast
that sonic wave thing across the country, around the world?”

Rice snapped his attention back to me. “It doesn’t kill them, Amy. It just makes them
unhappy, hurts their auditory nerves, their ‘ears’ so to speak. It makes them want
to get away. What would that accomplish? If they had nowhere to go for relief, they’d
wander everywhere just like they do now. Then we wouldn’t be safe here.”

“Is that why you capture Them?” I asked. “To find a way to hurt them, instead of just
annoy them?”

Rice flinched slightly. “We don’t capture the Floraes,” he said slowly.

“Yes you do. Baby and I saw someone, in a hover-copter. They caught one the same way
they got us.”

Rice looked around, then back at me. “I wouldn’t go around telling that story to anyone,”
he said quietly. “Please.” He pressed his lips together and searched my face, his
blue eyes penetrating. “Sometimes, the post-aps are unfocused. . . . They have to
have extensive psychiatric treatment. It’s for their own good,” he assured me hurriedly.
“But I don’t want you getting sent to the Ward.”

A chill ran down my spine, and Rice looked worried that he’d upset me. “I’m sorry,”
he said, reaching out to touch my arm. “I don’t want to scare you. It’s just, you’re
one of the first girls my age brought here in a while. I wouldn’t want anything to
happen to you.”

I looked down, feeling myself blush.

“If this is too much for you, we can go back. Maybe when the director has the time,
she can take you around, if that would make you feel more comfortable.”

I shook my head. “When does my mother ever have spare time?” I asked.

He smiled at that. “She’s very busy. But hey, it gives us time to get to know each
other.”

His leg jostled against mine and I got goose bumps. I wasn’t used to anyone but Baby
touching me.

I turned to Baby and tried to explain to her about the population. She could only
count so high, but I knew she could conceptualize larger numbers.

Think of the largest number that you know
, I told her.
And double it again and again and again
.

Baby looked at me like I was crazy.
There’s that many people?

Yes. More
. I felt Rice’s eyes on me. I turned and caught him staring. He blushed bright red
and looked away.

“I was just . . . ,” he stammered. “That’s not standard American Sign Language.”

“No, we’ve modified it a lot.”

“Baby, she’s so quiet.” He smiled at her and she watched him with her big, brown eyes.
Even if she didn’t understand him, she knew he was talking about her.

“It’s why she isn’t dead.”

He nodded. “And you really don’t know how she got that scar on her leg?” he asked.

“No, she was already hurt. I didn’t see how it happened.” I told him the entire story
of how I found her, wounded and alone in the supermarket. “She also has a strange
mark on the back of her neck,” I mentioned.

“Yes, but that was nothing of significance,” he told me quickly, even though I knew
he looked closely at it yesterday.

I studied him while he watched Baby taking in the people around us.

“How old are you?” I asked.

He paused. “Seventeen.”

“Seventeen? And you’re my mother’s assistant? But you’re so young.”

“You have a lot to learn about New Hope,” he told me, fiddling with his name tag.

“I don’t doubt it,” I agreed, standing. “I think I’m over my initial shock, though.
Let’s go get Baby some shoes.”

• • •

Dr. Reynolds is still talking. I’ve zoned in and out of hazy memories, but continue
to nod my head dutifully. I tune back in to the sound of his voice, trying to concentrate
on what his words mean
.

“It’s a fresh start. We have an opportunity to isolate all the best that humanity
has to offer and weed out the worst. New Hope is a society that will be spoken about
as the birthplace of a new civilization. When humans reclaim the earth, they will
look back here and know this was the foundation for a new world.”

He is talking with such passion the skin on his face jiggles slightly. I laugh despite
myself
.

“Is that funny?” His smile fades to a scowl
.

“No . . . I’m just . . . excited.” I don’t want him to know I wasn’t really paying
attention to his prepared speech. I don’t want him to be angry. Worry begins to creep
into my thoughts
.

“It’s all right, Amy. You can go back to your nap now.”

“Thank you, Dr. . . .”

“Reynolds,” he reminds me
.

“Yes, thank you.” I lie down and pull the covers up over my head, welcoming the ease
of unconsciousness
.

• • •

“Let’s try these.” Rice pulled a couple of pairs of shoes down off a shelf for Baby.

“Why are they yellow?” I asked as Rice bent down, placing the shoes next to Baby’s
feet to size them up.

“Class Three is yellow,” he declared, holding up a pair triumphantly. “I think these
should fit her.”

“What’s all this ‘class’ business?” I asked.

“That’s how we keep track of children. After the Floraes showed up, there was a core
group of survivors. Mostly researchers and military, people who were in secure, easy-to-defend
areas.”

“My mother mentioned that last night.”

“Well, the post-aps . . . the ones left”—he motioned vaguely—“out there. The ones
who really survived the Floraes, they’re mostly children.”

“Children? I never saw any children, except for Baby.”

“You were in a city,” Rice explained. “High concentration of Floraes, hardly any post-aps.
In other areas, where there was less population density, children were the ones more
likely to survive. Adults probably kept them concealed, took extra measures to protect
them. And of course children are good at hiding. Once their instinctual survival skills
kick in, they know how to be quiet.”

“They believed in the monsters before the monsters showed up,” I whispered.

“Exactly. That’s why when we bring in the post-aps, we usually don’t have a problem
with them. We place them in a structured environment. They fit right in.”

“What does that have to do with Class Three or Four or whatever?”

“It’s just how we organize the kids. Newborn to toddler is Class One. They don’t get
a color. Three to five years is Class Two and they have to wear pink or blue based
on their gender.” He cleared his throat. “Kids aged six to nine are Class Three; they
all wear yellow. Age ten to twelve is Class Four—they wear orange—and thirteen to
sixteen is Class Five . . .”

“Let me guess. Class Five is red.” I tugged on my oversized jumpsuit. “Only the kids
are assigned a color?” I asked.

“Yes.”

“But I’m seventeen years old.” It was strange for me to say it. Seventeen. I’d never
had a sweet sixteen. I’d never gotten my learner’s permit. I didn’t get to do all
that normal stuff that teenagers used to do.

“Oh. Maybe your mother was just confused,” Rice offered unconvincingly.

My mother was not easily confused. My heart sank as I wondered if she’d forgotten
how old I was.

“Well, let’s let Baby try these on.” Rice held the shoes out to her, but she just
looked at him blankly. She didn’t seem to get that they were hers now, even though
she stared at them longingly.

Go on. Put them on your feet
, I instructed her.

Baby took the shoes and carefully held them, fingering the laces.
Do you want me to help you?

She nodded. I knelt and showed her how to put on the shoes and tie the laces.
First you make a bunny rabbit
. I held the knots with one hand and signed with the other.
See the ears? Then the rabbit goes through the rabbit hole
. I finished tying the bow.

What are you talking about?
she asked, puzzled.

That’s how I learned to tie laces
. My dad taught me.

But Baby wasn’t paying attention. She was engrossed in the feel of her shoes. She
held out her foot and shook it.

Feels heavy
, she said, taking a few awkward steps. The shoes thumped dully against the linoleum
floor. She looked at me and wrinkled her nose.
Why is everything here so loud?

I laughed, surprised it was the way I used to laugh in the Before, not careful to
be silent.

“What did she say?” Rice asked.

“She wants to know the point of shoes when they make so much noise.”

You don’t have wear them now if you don’t want to
, I told her, wanting Baby to be as comfortable as possible in her new surroundings.
She slipped the shoes off her feet and clutched them to her chest.

“I told her she doesn’t have to wear them today. That’s okay, right?”

Rice gave me an uncertain look. I got the feeling he had a hard time breaking rules.

“What’s the next stop?” I asked to distract him.

“School. You don’t have to go yet,” he assured me, “but I’ll show you where it is.”

“Fan!” I smiled, trying to sound enthusiastic, but inside I was worried. Baby had
never played with kids her own age and I didn’t know how she’d react.