In the After

looked like a kindergarten classroom: lots of little tables surrounded by small chairs. There was a door at the far end. I listened for noise, breathing, anything to tell me where people were hiding.
    Near the far wall I heard a gasp, and when I ducked low, I saw them under a covered table. A Minder and two toddlers in pink stared at me fearfully. I looked under the other tables, where more little children crouched, frightened.
    I motioned for the Minder to come out and she crawled forward on her hands and knees, painfully loud. I put my mouth to her ear.
    “What’s through that connecting door?” I whispered.
    “Class Two dorm room,” she said, her whisper loud with desperation. “There are kids in there now, under the beds. We came from the room next door when we heard the screams outside.”
    “Get the kids in there,” I said. She looked at me blankly. “Now. Quickly and quietly,” I ordered in a hushed tone.
    The Minder waved the children out from under the tables and herded them into the adjoining room. I helped, but stayed focused on the door. We were making a lot of noise and it was only a matter of time. I searched the small kitchen they used for snack time and found a couple of knives. I shoved one in my waistband and handed the other to the Minder before she left the room.
    “Keep silent,” I cautioned. “If one breaks through the door, go for its neck.” She took the knife with trembling hands. “And turn off the lights.”
    She nodded once and quietly closed the door. It was silent as a graveyard, but the Floraes knew we were there. Within seconds there was a scratching at the door, then a frenzied panting. With the sonic emitters back up and running, They were agitated. There was nowhere to hide from the noise.
    In a few short moments, the creatures were almost through the door. I didn’t know how many there were, but I was guessing more than I had bullets for. I took a deep breath. I’d hold them off for as long as I could. If I wounded a few, They would start feeding on each other. I could buy some time.
    The door creaked and pressed inward. I aimed, ready to shoot as soon as it broke open, as soon as I saw the green gleam of a Florae’s head. My heart thudded, but my hands didn’t shake. I knew I could kill Them. They’d bottleneck through the door, and a bullet was still faster than a Florae.
    Then, abruptly, it stopped. No more noise, no more scraping, no more snarls. I stepped back cautiously, keeping my gun raised. Then the door began to open.
    “Amy!” Gareth yanked off his hood, shocked. “What the hell are you doing in here?”
    “There’s a bunch of Class Twos in the other room.” I motioned over my shoulder.
    “Stay here with them while we clean up. We think we got them all, but the Elite Eight are still on the prowl outside.”
    I nodded, weak with relief, too exhausted to speak. He looked at me. “Those dead Floraes in the other room . . .?”
    “I took care of them, but I couldn’t save the chil—” I didn’t want to cry. Not there. Not yet.
    “You did a good job,” Gareth told me. He pulled his hood back up and stepped lightly out of the room.
    I backed against the door, slid down, and collapsed in a heap. I began to shake as the adrenaline left my body. I wondered how many people were dead. I hugged my knees and waited for Gareth to come back and tell us it was all over.
    • • •
    “Is it over?” I ask Dr. Thorpe .
    She leans over my bed. “Is what over?”
    “The attack.” I look up at her .
    “That was months ago,” she tells me. “You’re in the Ward now.”
    I close my eyes. “My mind is full of holes,” I say .
    “I’m sorry for that. It’s partially an adverse reaction to your shock treatments and partially the medication that you’re on.” I can feel her hovering over me. “Amy, I’m going to untie your arms now. Do you understand?”
    “Yes.” I open my eyes. There are several other people in my room. A nurse and a couple of orderlies .
    Dr. Thorpe follows my gaze. “They’re only here as a precaution,” she explains as she frees my wrists from the restraints .
    I flex my hands. “Thank you, Dr. Thorpe.”
    “You’re welcome, Amy.” She turns to the orderlies. “Would you mind standing outside? I think Ms. Harris will be more comfortable if it’s less crowded.” As they leave she calls after them, “Stay close, though.”
    The nurse stands near Dr. Thorpe as they look over my chart. “I just don’t