floor you were on. Your mother knows the problem I have with authority. She knows I’m fond of you.”
“You think she planned on you helping me?” I ask.
Kay nods. “I do.”
The tears come again as I remember my mother’s face when she first discovered I was alive. Then I shake the thought from my head. I don’t have time for contemplation. Right now, I have to focus on staying alive. I switch on the sonic emitter.
I watch the hover-copter take to the air and disappear in the distance. Quickly I change into my synth-suit and strap on my pack. It’s a little heavy, but I’m fit and I know I’ll need the extra supplies.
I stretch my legs and listen. No Floraes yet. I set out at a walk, hoping that the emitter will shield me until I reach Fort Black. If not, I have my gun and my knives, though I am loath to kill Them, knowing They are people. Were people. But if it’s my life or theirs, I won’t hesitate.
I start to run, slowly at first and then faster and faster. I quietly disappear into the After.
Photo by HEATHER STONE
Chicago native DEMITRIA LUNETTA holds a BA in Human Ecology and has spent countless hours studying the many ways in which people are capable of bringing about their own destruction. In case the end is near, she always carries a good book and a chocolate bar—the two items essential for postapocalyptic survival. IN THE AFTER is her debut novel. Visit her online at www.demitrialunetta.blogspot.com.
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