Aftertime

Clearly, there were things he’d been holding back, whatever happened at the rock slide, for instance. She had to have faith in him, a prospect that felt far more tenuous than mere hope, but there was no one else to trust, no one to depend on. Maybe Elaine would return…maybe she would bring more information. With any luck, Elaine would tell her where to go, and they would be allowed to leave while it was still dark. It couldn’t be much past midnight; they could make shelter by morning if they could manage to get out of town and use the darkness for cover.

Assuming their next shelter hadn’t already fallen to the Rebuilders. Assuming they could leave behind the things Smoke had done.

Cass shivered. If she believed the others, it meant Smoke had killed. What did she know about him, really? They’d shared a night she wasn’t sure she wanted to remember. He’d come with her-all right, he didn’t have to do that, but on the other hand maybe he was already on the run, maybe he knew it was only a matter of time until he would be held accountable for what he’d done.

And what about you? the voice inside her nagged. Cass knew there was no point in trying to ignore it: she had been on the run most of her life. Smoke had accepted her, trusted her, even without knowing all of her story-even with the way she looked, her filth, her wounds, even after what she’d done to Sammi.

In the back of her mind she’d been considering trying to sneak out alone, if she could find out where the Convent was. Unlike Smoke, she had never challenged the Rebuilders. With Elaine’s help, maybe she could gain their trust, convince them to help her find Ruthie. They had weapons, power and information.

But she knew that she would be killed if the Rebuilders found out she’d been attacked. And if there were still others here from before, people who recognized her, who remembered her, it would be impossible to keep that a secret. Besides, she wouldn’t get far without Smoke-she needed help if she was going to stand a chance at survival, given how much more organized the Beaters had become. Alone in the unpopulated areas was one thing, but up here in the mountains, the roads were dotted with clusters of houses, and that meant Beaters.

And there was something else: she also owed Smoke. For giving her a chance, if nothing else-it was more than anyone had done for her in a very long time.

Cass sank down onto the mattress. She sat with her legs crossed and listened hard, but the only sound was her own breathing. After what seemed like a very long time, she tapped gently on the walls on either side of her, in case Smoke had been brought to the next room, but there was no response.

A little later she lay down, thinking she might as well get some rest, in case she and Smoke were going to be made to leave, but a few minutes later the door opened.

It was Miles, the man who’d held the gun on them. “Come with me,” he said impassively.

She followed him down the hall to the conference room. She was ready to duck her head and cover her face if they encountered anyone, hoping her haircut would disguise her, but the halls were empty. If there were people here, they were in the main rooms of the library, the stacks and the classrooms, the kitchen and the courtyard; the administrative area seemed to be reserved for those in charge.

In the conference room, there was no sign of Skiv. Smoke sat alone opposite two men and a woman dressed in basic khaki short-sleeved shirts and fatigue pants.

“Sit here,” Miles said, pointing at the seat next to Smoke, and then he took up a position at the door, watching the room with his hand resting lightly on his gun belt. Smoke gave her a penetrating look, not smiling, but his hand brushed her leg under the table.

“I’m Evangeline,” the lone woman said. She sat between the others, a commanding presence. Cass figured her for the leader. Her light brown hair, tinged with silver, was pulled into a severe ponytail. She wore no jewelry, but she had a blue-black tattoo above one wrist bone, a fat, tight spiral. She saw Cass looking at her wrist and held it up for her to examine.

“The koru. Symbol of renewal. From the Maori. I understand you’ve been…away.”

That was putting it mildly, and Cass was tempted to roll her eyes, but there was something dangerous about the woman, and she merely nodded.

“Yes. Well. The koru is the symbol of the Rebuilders.”

Smoke made a sound of barely suppressed anger.

“I’m lost,” Cass said. “I’m sorry, it’s like you all think I know things that I don’t. Who exactly are the Rebuilders?”

“Just what it sounds like,” the man on Evangeline’s left said. His facial hair had been carefully shaved to a very thin line along his jaw, something that would be difficult under any circumstances but far harder in Aftertime with its scarcity of grooming aids. “We’re rebuilding. We’re taking what’s left after the rest of the world tried to bring our country to its knees-the raw materials, the resources, the people-and we’re building it back into a civilization.”

“‘We’ who?” Smoke demanded. “All I see is half a dozen folks with guns and a few dozen more without any.”

“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,