In the After

very long time.
    I see why I’m supposed to be quiet. The lion is no longer on my little plastic cup. It is standing in front of me. It roars, showing off its sharp teeth. I am frozen with fear. Suddenly the ground begins to shake. I try to regain my footing, but I fall to my hands and knees. The quake continues. The earth splits apart. I open my mouth to scream but nothing comes out.
    I open my eyes. I’m in my bed and I’m me again. Only the vibration continues.
    I turn over. Baby is shaking me. I push her hands away, but then I see the look on her face. Her eyes are wide, her jaw clenched. Something has frightened her and it takes a lot to scare Baby.
    I sit up. What is it? What’s happened?
    I hear someone at the gate . Baby jumps on me. Maybe it’s Amber .
    I push her to the side, onto the bed.
    I go down the stairs and peek out the window. There is a man in army fatigues studying the gate. He picks up a stick and throws it at the fence. It sparks where it hits and then falls to the ground. He looks at the window and I duck down, hoping he hasn’t seen me. When I look again, he is gone. I have an empty feeling in the pit of my stomach.
    I run back up to my room. It’s not Amber; it’s a man , I tell her. I need you to get a bag together. You’ll need some food, a change of clothes, and your pocketknife . I know she will listen to me. Even if she’s been surly lately, she knows that this is serious.
    Baby nods, still frightened. Can I bring my books? She already understands that we might have to go.
    No , I tell her. She looks at the floor, frowning, but doesn’t bother to beg. The sight is enough to make me feel guilty. One book , I relent. She needs to have something familiar.
    Where are we going? Are we leaving now?
    No. I just want us to be ready. Just in case . I try to smile reassuringly, but Baby isn’t buying it. Go, now. Put your bag by the back door when you’re done . Baby runs off to her room.
    I start to pack my backpack. Some clothes, a water bottle. I take a can opener from the kitchen too. I grab the gun and holster from my nightstand and put it on. We have to be prepared for every possibility.

    We keep the bags ready, but after four days the man doesn’t return. Baby talks about it constantly and I’ve run out of ways to distract her.
    Is he going to hurt us? she asks, signing one-handedly. In her other hand she clutches a fork. She’s eating peaches from a can. The juice dribbles down her chin and stains her shirt.
    I won’t let that happen . I hand her a napkin. Stop making a mess . “You don’t have a maid,” is what my mom always used to tell me, even though we did have a housekeeper. When I pointed out the obvious to her, she would say, “Do you pay her wages?”
    Amy, if that man comes back, are you going to hurt him? Baby asks, eyeing the gun that I have not taken off since we spotted the outsider, except to shower.
    If I have to , I tell her. She stops eating, her fork paused midway between the can and her mouth. I don’t want to frighten her, but she needs to understand that we could be in danger. All of Them are monsters, but not all monsters are Them.
    Maybe he was just lost , she ventures.
    Maybe .
    Maybe he’s nice .
    I frown at her. I doubt it .
    Amber was nice .
    Eat your peaches. You have to get going soon .
    Baby shovels the rest of the fruit in her mouth, chewing carefully. I told her that tonight she can go scavenging on her own. We need food again and one of us has to stay home, in case our visitor comes back. I debated leaving Baby with the gun, but I don’t think she can shoot someone if push comes to shove. I’m not all that confident that I can either, but I’m willing to try.
    Baby keeps smiling and pushing her head up tall. She is excited; I can tell by the way she won’t sit still. I hope she can channel that energy later, but I’m not overly concerned. She is a smart girl, fast and quiet. She can take care of herself out there, for a few hours anyway.
    Baby clears her place and grabs her two bags. One almost empty to hold food and supplies, one filled with garbage to drop down the block. She stands by the door and hops up and down silently.
    Do you have everything you need? I ask, unwilling to let her go just yet.
    Yes . She rolls her eyes.
    You have the key for the gate? I’ve already checked twice to make sure it was in her pocket. I can’t stand the thought of her stuck out there, even though I’ll be watching from the window.
    Yes,