Aftertime by Sophie Littlefield

By Sophie Littlefield

Awakening in a bleak panorama as scarred as her physique, Cass greenback vaguely remembers surviving whatever bad. Having no inspiration what percentage weeks have handed, she slowly realizes the frightening fact: Ruthie has vanished.And along with her, the majority of civilization.Where once-lush hills carried automobiles and trade, the roads this present day see in simple terms cannibalistic Beaters—people became hungry for human flesh via a central authority scan long gone wrong.In a damaged, barren California, Cass will suffer a harrowing quest to get Ruthie again. Few humans belief an interloper, not to mention a girl who grew to become a zombie and one way or the other grew to become again, yet she unearths aid from an enigmatic outlaw, Smoke. Smoke is her savior, and her safety.For the Beaters are out there.And the people grip at survival with their set off arms. in particular once they examine that she and Ruthie became the main feared, and wanted, of guns in a courageous new world….

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The shoes were good, they were comfortable and hadn’t given her blisters or sores despite the many days of walking. A movement caught her eye, off in the spiky remains of the woods. Cass stopped abruptly and scanned the tree skeletons and shrubs. A flash of white, was it? Or was it only the way the light was rising in the sky, reflected off…what, though? There were only the bare trunks of the dead cypress and pine trees, a stand of dead manzanita, the low thick growth of kaysev, a few of the boulder formations that dotted the Sierra Foothills.

Meetings, until one day she was the only one in the room. That day, she knew she couldn’t live alone anymore. ” She dug her fingernails into the callus of her thumb, under the table where they couldn’t see. The next part was hard. “I was there the first time the Beaters came. ” And the second time. She couldn’t bring herself to tell it. Not yet. ” Smoke hesitated and Cass got the impression he wasn’t telling the truth—not all of it, anyway. “They got it reinforced. They haven’t lost anyone…not inside, anyway, in a while.

And there was another smell, one that made her doubt her senses. ” Her escort was a man of medium height, hard-muscled, with broad shoulders and powerful forearms. Sun-streaked brown hair fell into his chambray-blue eyes and he kept pushing it impatiently aside. His mouth was on the generous side, almost sensuous, but his expression was hard. “Once a week, on Sunday. ” Cass asked, surprised. Who kept track, anymore? The man didn’t answer, but led her over to a door that stood open, propped with a stack of books.

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