In the After

eyed.
    No. It could be a trap .
    Baby nods. She’s very loud. Does she want Them to come?
    Maybe, but even if she doesn’t, they’ll be here soon. Let’s go .
    We take the long way around, avoiding the footsteps and their owner. We are almost to the door when I feel a tickle in my throat. I swallow twice trying to fight the urge. The tickle climbs up my throat to my sinuses. I try to hold it in but I can’t help the small noise that escapes me as I sneeze.
    Baby freezes.
    “Wait,” I hear from somewhere in the store.
    Go , I tell Baby. Fast .
    “Please, wait.” The woman runs toward us, yelling. “Don’t leave me here.”
    I grab Baby’s hand and hurry to the door. Whoever the woman is, she has zero self-preservation skills.
    We make it through the door just as a car alarm sounds. Baby stops, startled by the unnaturally loud noise. I think for a moment that it’s me, that I accidentally triggered the alarm I carry in case I need a diversion. The noise isn’t coming from my bag, but blaring from across the street. When the realization takes hold, I notice that Baby is still frozen in place. I pull Baby’s arm and push her into some overgrown bushes. I crouch down, searching for the source of the noise.
    A red pickup truck across the street is loaded with men. My jaw drops. There are ten of them at least, each with a rifle. It’s the largest group of people I have seen since Before. One of the men stands on top of the truck. He holds up a bullhorn and clicks it on with a beep .
    “COME ON, YOU SLIMY GREEN BASTARDS!”
    It has only been a few seconds since the siren sounded, but already They are running toward the truck. The men form a circle, facing outward, their weapons raised and aimed at the creatures’ heads. If They are merely wounded they continue to crawl forward, even when they are missing arms and legs.
    Baby shakes next to me, her head buried in my arm, her eyes closed tight. I’m glad she isn’t watching. She doesn’t need to witness a massacre.
    As more and more of Them arrive, the men are forced back against the truck. Please don’t die , I think. I don’t want it to end this way. They shouldn’t throw their lives away just to take a few of Them out. It isn’t worth it.
    It’s not long before the situation begins to look hopeless for the men. The creatures are about to overwhelm the truck. There are too many to continue fighting, but the men keep shooting. They take out several more of Them, but others take their place.
    Finally the men retreat. As quickly as they arrived, they jump into the flatbed of the red truck, still shooting. The man with the bullhorn hurries to the driver’s seat and steps on the gas. The truck is surrounded, but they plow through the mass of creatures taking at least ten of Them out. I smile. They are not on a suicide mission. They are guerrilla warriors.
    The truck drives away, tires screeching. The creatures follow, running after it as fast as they can, which is sickeningly fast. The silence that follows is frightening after so much noise.
    Is it over? Baby signs.
    Yes, but we have to wait here until it’s clear .
    Baby raises her head to look out. Talking with your mouth is scary , she says, referring to the man with the bullhorn.
    It is . But it wasn’t Before. Our brief encounter with chaos makes me homesick for that other time. I try not to think about Before.
    Amy . Baby touches my elbow urgently.
    A pair of legs appears before our hiding space. I look up. It’s the woman from the grocery store, who I’d forgotten about during the commotion.
    “Don’t leave me,” she shrieks. I’m furious and panicked—she is going to bring Them right to us.
    I pull her down into the bushes and put my hand over her mouth. I hope she doesn’t struggle, but as soon as she is within the cover of our hiding place, her body goes limp. I leave my hand where it is as a reminder to be quiet.
    We’re lucky. After the commotion, They don’t react very quickly to the woman’s outburst. They are too busy gnawing on the remains of the creatures that were killed. It is dark, so as long as we stay quiet, they won’t find us.
    They feed for a long time, eating every bit of their dead, their sharp teeth chewing through skin, muscle, and bone. Their feeding noises sicken me, slurps with the occasional crunch. Two fight over an arm, wrestle on the ground. I hope they hurt each other but one eventually relents.
    I glance at the woman. She’s more of a girl really,