AFTER HUMANITY

The first thing Mara remembered about the end of the world was the rain. Not the screams. Not the helicopters. Not the sirens that would continue for hours after the electricity failed. The rain. It fell against the hospital windows in long silver lines, turning the city outside into a blurred painting of lights and shadows. Mara was twelve years old. She sat beside her mother's bed and held her hand. Her mother's fingers were cold. "Is Daddy coming back?" Her mother didn't answer. She was staring at the television mounted on the wall. The news anchor had stopped pretending everything was under control. Behind her, emergency graphics flashed across the screen. GLOBAL COMMUNICATION FAILURE MULTIPLE CITIES UNDER QUARANTINE UNKNOWN PATHOGEN SPREADS ACROSS SIX CONTINENTS The anchor's voice trembled. "We are receiving unconfirmed reports that infected individuals are displaying—" The television went black. Mara looked at her mother. "Displaying what?" Her mother's eyes filled with tears. "Nothing." "Mum." "Nothing, Mara." A sound came from the hallway. Someone screamed. Then came running footsteps. Mara's older brother, Elias, burst through the door. He was seventeen. His face was pale. "Get up." Their mother tried to sit. "Elias—" "We have to leave." "Where?" "Anywhere." He grabbed Mara's hand. She looked at their mother. "What about Mum?" Elias didn't answer. That was when Mara understood. Something had happened. Something terrible. They ran into the hallway. The hospital was chaos. Doctors pushed patients toward elevators. Nurses cried. Security guards shouted contradictory orders. Then the lights flickered. Once. Twice. Everything went dark. For several seconds there was only breathing. Then the emergency lights came on. Red. Mara looked toward the windows. People were running in the street. Cars had stopped in the middle of intersections. A bus had crashed into a building. Smoke climbed between the skyscrapers. Then Mara saw the woman. She was standing in the middle of the road. Completely still. Rain ran down her face. Cars swerved around her. One driver lost control and crashed. The woman didn't move. Then, slowly... she looked toward the hospital. Toward the window. Toward Mara. Their eyes met. The woman's mouth opened. She smiled. Mara felt her brother's fingers tighten around hers. "Don't look at her." "Who is she?" "I don't know." The woman raised one hand. Not waving. Pointing. Directly at Mara. Every light in the city went out. And somewhere beneath the hospital... something woke up.