Free In the After by Demitria Lunetta Page A

late I think of the gun at my side. I’m panicked, and there is no way to reach it in time. I’m sorry, Baby . I fall to my knees. My hands instinctively fly in front of my face.
    But nothing happens. A long second ticks by. I peek past my fingers.
    The creature is barely a foot away, completely covered in some kind of net. It is being dragged back slowly while it tries desperately to escape. It pushes against its bonds and snaps its teeth at me. It is not happy it has missed its meal.
    I scramble to the doorway and hide behind the wall, where Amber still stands, shocked. I lie on the floor and poke my head out to watch. The creature is being reeled into a ship, the same dark, soundless ship that I witnessed landing in the park and have seen many times since then. It beams the light everywhere.
    The creature does not stop fighting, but it cannot break free. I can see just inside the doorway of the craft. There is a tall figure, clothed in black from head to toe. The figure holds a rope attached to the net that encases the creature. It pulls the still-struggling alien into the ship. The door shuts behind Them and the bright light goes out.
    The sudden darkness is a shock. By the time my eyes adjust, the ship has disappeared without making a sound.
    I get to my feet. We still have to go, and quickly. The light, no matter how brief, will attract more of Them like a beacon in the darkness. I run into the kitchen but Baby is not there.
    Panicked, I search around the chairs and under the table. Where would she have hidden? I freeze in the middle of the room and crouch, my head in my hands. What if she didn’t have time to hide? My eyes scan the room frantically. There is no blood, no sign of a struggle. She must have escaped somehow.
    A dish towel on the floor catches my attention. It is pushed out away from the sink. I rush to the cabinet and pull open the door. Baby looks up at me, relieved.
    I grab her and haul her out of the cabinet, hugging her tight. My whole world would collapse if I lost her. I can’t lose her. I pick her up, even though she is much too big now to be carried.
    Are you okay? I sign onto her arm.
    Yes. I was scared, though . Baby smiles weakly, putting on a brave face. She can deal with a lot, but this was a close call. I hid as soon as Amber made that terrible noise .
    I put Baby down, squeezing her one last time. We have to go , I tell her.
    She nods knowingly.
    I find Amber and we all walk slowly, careful to be silent. Even so, Amber walks way too loudly, her sock-covered feet padding on the sidewalk.
    When we get to the gate, I unlock it as fast as I can, making sure Baby gets inside first. I shove Amber after her, pulling the gate shut.
    Inside the house I scold Amber. I sign at her furiously, call her names she doesn’t understand. We don’t have words for “stupid” or “idiotic,” I’d never needed language like that with Baby. Instead I say she’s useless. Bad Amber , I claw the words at her.
    I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I’m sorry , she tells me over and over. She clutches the designer purse to her chest.
    It’s not her fault , Baby pleads. She doesn’t understand .
    I look at Amber. How can she not comprehend the danger we face every day? How can she jeopardize our safety for a stupid bag? I glare at her and she begins to sob.
    She’s from Before , Baby says.
    I sigh. I place my hand on Amber’s shoulder. It’s okay . I force a smile. Go to sleep. We’ll try again tomorrow .
    Amber sniffles and nods. She gives me a weak, half smile and creeps downstairs to her bed. I feel a stab of regret.
    Baby is right. Amber is stuck with her head in the Before. She doesn’t understand that expensive clothes and shoes are not as important as staying alive. She spent all those years in a bomb shelter, dreaming of a life that is no longer possible. If she doesn’t let go of her fantasies, she’ll kill us all.
    Are you angry? Baby asks.
    No. I was just scared that you were hurt , I explain.
    What