In the After

she hollered. “All adults between the ages of seventeen and twenty-one, you’re with Jenny.” Jenny was waving her arms, indicating who she was.

“Okay, guys,” Jenny told us when everyone was gathered around. “We’re going to do a five-mile run now. I’ll set the pace, but you can go ahead if you want, the path is marked. Anyone who can’t at least match my pace will be cut.”

I smiled and kicked off my shoes. I started off with the group, but soon pulled ahead. We followed the markers, bits of orange plastic tied along the trees and in bushes. I began to outpace everyone but a tall guy with annoyingly long legs. Little by little I inched ahead, pushing myself harder than I had ever before. My legs started to hurt and my chest ached with each breath.

When I saw the finish line, Gareth standing with clipboard in hand, I forgot all the pain in my muscles and chest and ran like I was being chased by a Florae. I finished first, barely, the tall man right on my heels. Gareth recorded our times on his clipboard. I wanted to collapse on the floor, but instead I kept walking so my legs wouldn’t cramp.

“Save something for the other tests, guys,” Gareth chastised, but I knew he was proud I’d won.

When I’d recovered, I searched for Kay. She was busy speaking with some of the other Guardians, but when she saw me she raised her eyebrows. I held up my index finger to indicate I was first, and she smirked, pleased. I was no longer Amy. I was a reflection on the director and the Guardians. And I knew that would be my ticket to freedom.

* * *

The next day I spot Frank’s dark curly hair from across the hall. I haven’t seen him for a while, not since his last outburst. I follow him to his door.

“Hi.” I glance up at the camera. “I’m Amy; we’ve met,” I tell him, wondering how I can ask him about the Floraes without giving myself away.

“Oh, hi. Would you like to see what I’ve been working on?” he asks me with a grin.

I’m surprised by his mild manner. It’s almost as if we’re in Advanced Theory and I’m looking at his idea. I step into his room and stare at his wall. He’s managed to draw all over it. At first it looks like scribbles but there is a method to the madness. Diagrams and numbers. Chemical structures.

“They let you do this?” I ask.

“It gets painted over sometimes, but Dr. Thorpe thinks it’s therapeutic.”

I step closer. “What does it mean?”

“This”—he points at an equation—“is the basic structure of a Florae cell.”

I study the numbers. “I’m sorry. I don’t understand,” I tell him. “What does it mean?”

“It means . . .” He grins. “That the human race is doomed.” He starts to laugh hysterically. “Don’t you see it? It’s us. We’re the problem. Not them!”

His sudden change in behavior scares me, and I back out of the room before the orderlies arrive.

Frank’s outburst has triggered a memory, though. It is almost clear. . . . I think back to the day of my Guardian test, trying desperately to remember.

* * *

After the first trial, only twenty-five people in our group remained. Our next two tests were marksmanship and hand-to-hand combat. I did fine in both, but quite a few more people were cut, including a girl who almost shot herself in the face while peering into the barrel of her gun.

Next, Jenny led us outside to a rope ladder that snaked up a tree trunk and was strung between two trees like a bridge, with bells tied in various locations. Jenny explained the stealth trial, telling us we had to cross the bridge. If you rang a bell, you were out.

Applicant after applicant failed. Finally Jenny yelled my name.

“Harris.” She looked at me, with a nod, and said, “Show them how it’s done.”

I walked to the ladder, shaking out my hands and feet, still barefoot from the run earlier. I took a deep breath and reached for the rope, clearing my head of all doubts.

I made my way carefully up the ladder, mindful of keeping my weight evenly distributed. My heart was beating so hard, I didn’t notice anything beyond the task. I scurried across the bridge, cautious not to disturb the rope and ring a bell. At the end, I lowered myself using just my hands. My feet touched the dirt and I spun around to face the people who were left.

Jenny smiled. “See. It can be done,” she told the group.

I breathed a sigh of relief. In the end, only four other people passed.

“Last trial, guys.” Jenny yelled. We followed her back into the Rumble Room and up the stairs to the second floor, where I’d never been before. She sat us in a room, then came to collect us one by one. I saw the others leave and wondered what was going to happen next.

“Amy, you’re up,” Jenny said, smiling. I followed her down the hall to a black door.

“Go inside,” she ordered. Taking a deep breath, I put my fingers on the handle and pushed. I entered a small room with a large machine. Old-fashioned headphones hung off it, dangling toward an empty chair.

“Have a seat, Amy,” Nick said. “We’re just going to test your hearing.”

I barked out a laugh. “A hearing test? Shouldn’t you do this first?”

“Just put on the headphones,” Nick grumbled. “You’re going to hear several beeps, sometimes in your left ear, sometimes your right, and sometimes both. If you hear a beep in your left ear, raise your left hand. If you hear a beep in your right ear . . .”

“I think I’ve got it,” I snapped, feeling silly I’d gotten all worked up over a stupid hearing test.

After passing, I went back downstairs, where all the surviving applicants had gathered. Of the two hundred—plus people who began, only about twenty remained.

Kay appeared. “Congratulations! You have today to move your things into the barracks. You’ll begin your training first thing tomorrow morning . . . unless any of you think you’re ready to take the final trial. We highly recommend that you train first.”

“I’ll take it,” I said. There were a few sharp intakes of breath but none of the Guardians were surprised.

“All right, kiddo.” Kay smiled. “Let’s get you suited up and ready to go. The locker room is this way,” she told me as if I didn’t already know.

I followed her and headed to the locker where my synth-suit was already waiting.

“You did remarkably well today,” Kay said. I ignored the rare compliment and pulled open my locker. After I retrieved the contents, I shakily slammed the door. “Are you okay?” Kay asked.

I turned to her. “I’m just . . .” I searched for the right word. My entire future depended on how I performed next. If I didn’t get control of my nerves, I’d be in trouble. I couldn’t afford to fail, not if I wanted to stay in New Hope.

“I can’t tell you what the test is, Amy. You need to succeed by yourself, or we can’t make you a Guardian. This isn’t fun and games. You could get seriously hurt.”

“Has anyone died during this test?” I hadn’t allowed myself to wonder about the physical danger I might be in.

“Just put on the synth-suit and meet me outside.”

I pulled on the soft, strong material of the synth-suit. It hugged my body snuggly and I was comforted by the softness against my skin. I stretched, shook out my arms and legs, trying to stay calm.

I rechecked my weapons: a Guardian gun and two knives. Both knives were intact and real, no practice knives this time. I tucked one into each leg sheath and walked slowly back to the Rumble Room, where Kay and the Guardians were waiting. Everyone was gathered around Marcus.

“What’s going on?” I asked Nick.

“Not sure, but your test has been postponed.”

“It’s more important now than ever,” Marcus was almost shouting, “that the Guardians are one cohesive unit. The final test needs a higher level of rigor for the security of us all and the greater good of New Hope.”

I heard a snort behind me and turned to catch Gareth roll his eyes.