Strangelets (14 page)

“Keep going,” Anat ordered.

“Okay. There’s a break here,” Sophie said, flipping the page. “Then she starts again. Looks like it was later that same day.”

“Wait, the same day? But that’s today, right?”

“Maybe it’s September 2nd,” Sophie said doubtfully. “We might have spent a night asleep in the infirmary, right?”

Declan didn’t answer, but she could tell by his eyes that this unsettled him.

“What’s the date on the final entry?” Nico asked.

Sophie flipped forward again, scanning the writing for the next date. Her heart clenched a bit when she found it. “September third.”

“So we lost more than a day in the infirmary?” Declan asked. “How?”

“Guess you’re not sure what day it is after all,” Nico grunted.

“We know it’s not April fifteenth,” Anat snapped.

“Apparently it’s not September first, either.”

“Enough. Keep reading, Sophie,” Declan said.

“Fine. Finish, so we can go,” Nico muttered, rocking back in his chair.

She tried to ignore his glares as she picked up where she left off:

I’d just given Megan lunch (it had been absolutely forever since I made grilled cheese sandwiches! Such a wave of
nostalgia, I went right back to standing over the cast iron skillet on a snowy afternoon, making grilled cheese and tomato soup for Nancy and Dan. Amazing how a smell can bring you back …) Anyway, we were just sitting down to eat when I heard a car in the distance. I nearly broke my ankle getting outside, convinced that they were finally clearing the roads … then the engine abruptly cut out. I wasn’t sure what to do. No sirens, but perhaps the police weren’t using them, since the accident happened yesterday?

The sound of metal being sheared, truly awful and loud. Megan was terrified, so I got her back inside and waited on the front porch. I have to admit, part of me was tempted to go dig John’s old gun out of the upstairs closet—
”

“There’s a gun?” Anat interrupted. “We could use a gun.”

“It’s not going anywhere if there is one,” Declan said.

“Might as well hear what happened. Now I’m dying to know.”

“What are you reading?”

They looked up to find Yosh standing in the doorway. She swayed slightly on her feet, but her eyes were clear.

“Have a seat, bird.” Declan leapt to his feet and guided her to the nearest chair.

“What is that?” Yosh asked as she sank into it.

“A journal,” Anat said. “We found it in the living room.”

A flash of something swept across Yosh’s features—fear? Confusion? Sophie wondered if she was still in shock. Maybe they should insist that she stay in the living room a bit longer. “Journals are private,” Yosh said with a frown.

“We think it might tell us what happened,” Sophie explained. “That seems more important.”

“Besides, we’re already sitting in someone’s kitchen eating
their food,” Declan declared with forced cheer. “Practically family now anyway, aye?”

“We’re wasting time,” Nico grumbled. “Keep reading.”

Yosh started to protest again, but Anat shushed her. Sophie continued:

Within a few minutes an enormous truck, the kind they use to plow the roads, came into view. It was picking up speed, about to pass the house entirely!!! I ran off the porch, nearly tripping and killing myself again, waving the dishcloth I still had in my hands. Fortunately, the driver saw me and stopped the car
.

It turned out to be a young man, in his twenties. I’d never met him before, but he looked familiar—I’ve probably seen him around town. He went to Longwood, same as Nancy and Dan, but years after them, of course
.

I invited him inside for a drink. At first he didn’t want to come in, but then I explained about the situation with Megan. As he drank the lemonade, he fidgeted terribly. He seemed frightened to death of something, although I couldn’t imagine what—it certainly couldn’t have been us
.

After he finished, I got him to come into the living room. He kept mumbling about getting back on the road, but when I offered him a sandwich he agreed to stay, at least for lunch. I asked again if he knew what was going on
.

He got the strangest expression on his face then, and looked at Megan. I understood immediately—he didn’t want to discuss it in front of the child. I bustled her into the kitchen and set her up with pencils and paper for drawing (reminding me of those boxes of crayons that Nancy loved so much, with the sharpener built into the side of the box. I wonder if I still have one stored in a closet somewhere?) The whole time I had this sense that it was all much worse than I’d imagined
.

The boy—though he’s hardly a boy, twenty-five at least—said his name was Ryan Adams. He’s polite and seems nice enough, despite the fact that he has an enormous and somewhat frightening tattoo on his arm (I’ll never understand what people are thinking these days, branding themselves like that. The young clearly have no idea what the passage of time will do to their skin). He works at the auto shop in town, as a mechanic—that was how he got the truck. It was in for repairs, and to get out of town he wanted something large to push aside the vehicles blocking the road
.

But why’d you leave town? I asked. What’s happened? Isn’t it safe there?

It was a long time before he spoke again. He said it sounded so crazy he hardly believed it himself. He’d been working on a car, trading jokes with another mechanic. He was waiting on a punch line, and when it didn’t come he turned to tease his friend about forgetting it. But his friend was gone, and on the spot where he’d been standing there was nothing but a dark, spinning spot that emitted some kind of strong pull. Ryan claimed he had to grab hold of the hood of the car and haul himself away from it hand over hand. Then as suddenly as it had appeared, the spot vanished
.

He rushed out of the garage and into the street. It was around noon, and usually at that time of day Main Street is crowded with people
.

But everyone was gone, he said
.

What do you mean, everyone? I asked
.

I searched the whole town. You’re the first people I’ve seen since noon yesterday, he said
.

It took me a minute to grasp what he’d said. No one but us? You’re sure?

No people, he said, with the strangest expression on his face
.

There’s something else, isn’t there? I asked
.

Yes ma’am, he said. There is …

“Do we really need
to hear this?” Yosh interrupted.

Her voice startled Declan; he’d become so enmeshed in the story, he’d almost forgotten where he was. Nico and Anat were mesmerized, too. But Yosh had risen from the table and was leaning against the wall closest to the hallway looking irritated—and fully awake, like her earlier spell had never happened. She had a stubborn set to her jaw.

“What, you want her to stop now?” Declan said, flabbergasted. “This is the best part.”

Even Nico chimed in, “We should finish.”

“Actually, if you all don’t mind, I could use a break,” Sophie said faintly. Anat groaned as Sophie handed the book to him. “You want to take over?”

Declan nodded. “Sure. You want some water?”

“The tap still works,” Nico said. “I tried it earlier. The water tastes fine, too. Probably from a well.”

Sophie got up and dug through the cupboards, producing a glass. While she filled it, Declan started reading.

At first Ryan was reluctant to say more, but I finally laid it on the line with him. Young man, I said, I’m all alone here, with a little girl whose mother went God knows where. If you know what’s going on, you better tell me
.

I don’t know, exactly, he said. Everyone just vanished. One minute they were there, and the next … it’s like the world emptied out. Like my mom always used to say, about the Rapture. Like that
.

Ridiculous, I told myself. This must be something else
.

Ryan seemed to guess my thoughts, because he suddenly
reached for my hand and squeezed it. I wasn’t going to say anything, he said. I was worried you’d slow me down. But … he glanced toward the kitchen, where Megan was industriously drawing, then turned back. You can come with me, I guess
.

Come with you where? I asked, startled. Where are you going?

Away, he said. There are creatures … things. He lowered his voice and said, I saw one. And it … was eating a man—

What kind of creature? I asked skeptically, wondering if perhaps this young man was high, or drunk
.

It was in the alley by the supermarket, he said. I saw it when I was passing by in the truck. He paused again, then said, It saw me, too. Stopped and watched as I drove past. I’ve never seen anything like it. Has to be some sort of demon for sure
.

Mmm, I said, not wanting to encourage his delusions. Already I was thinking it would be best to get him out of the house, and away from Megan. Someone else will surely come by soon. Somebody sane, with any luck
.

You don’t believe me, he said
.

Of course I do, I said, patting his hand. It’s just you’ve had a terrible scare
.

I saw it, he said angrily. Whatever it was, I saw it
.

Fine, I said. What did it look like?

The thing he described … honestly, I don’t think I could do it justice. He claimed it was huge, seven or eight feet tall at least. Like a person, but with thicker, scaly skin (like a rhino, he claimed), and a longer head that ended in a snout. Greenish-brown fur, too, as if the scales weren’t enough. And to top it all off, claws on its hands and feet
.

Yosh made a small noise.

“What now?” Anat demanded.

“Why are we reading this story?”

“It’s not a story, it’s a journal,” Sophie explained.

“Still, it does sound ridiculous,” Nico scoffed.

“Shall we finish?” Declan said through gritted teeth, trying to contain his annoyance.

No one answered. Sophie examined her hands. Yosh had an odd look in her eye. If Declan didn’t know better, he’d swear it was rage. For a brief flash, she’d looked like an entirely different person, and a threatening one at that. Declan hesitated, wondering whether or not to say anything about it.

“Well?” Nico demanded. “Sometime today?”

“Yeah, yeah. Calm yourself,” he muttered. “All right, moving on …”

Poor Ryan probably spent a bit too much time in Sunday school. He witnessed something odd, and his mind chose to come up with this preposterous explanation for it
.

I managed to calm him down, and convinced him that I believed him (although truly, I do not). Ryan said he’d prove it; he’s certain that whatever it was, the creature will be coming for him
.

When I asked how he could possibly know that, he shuddered and said he could tell from the way it looked at him. That it had “smart eyes.”

I shrugged it off. He was welcome to sleep in his truck, I said, but I wasn’t comfortable having him stay in the house
.

Ryan declared that either way, he’d be leaving at dawn. And if I was smart, I’d take the girl and go with him
.

For the rest of the day, the three of us immersed ourselves
in different activities. Megan took another nap and drew some more. I kept trying the phone, at one point dialing numbers at random, waiting endlessly for someone, anyone, to pick up. Ryan sat on my couch and stared at the television, even though there had been no further news reports, and every station was set to static. We weren’t even getting the emergency broadcast signals anymore
.

After an early dinner, Ryan retired to his car. I nearly relented at the last minute and invited him to use the couch, but he’s an odd young man, and I worry that tonight I’m so exhausted I’ll fall deeply asleep. Not that I fear him harming us, exactly, but you never know with people, do you?

Anyway, I’m completely spent. Megan is already in my bed, snoring away like a little angel. I’m going to try to get some sleep
.

Declan paused for a minute. The writing on the next page changed. He glanced up and met Sophie’s eyes. Her hands were clasped in front of her on the table, the knuckles white. He kept reading:

September 3rd

I don’t know what they are, but Ryan was right. A horrible sound woke me in the middle of the night. Megan kept sleeping, thank God, but I knew something was wrong
.

I heard shouting from the front yard and went to the guest room to see what was happening
.

Ryan had parked the truck a little ways away from the streetlamp, so it was hard to see. But there were shadows swarming around the truck, large ones
.

He was screaming for help. I rushed back to the bedroom and grabbed John’s gun box. I’ve never fired a gun before,
not once. I prayed that it was already loaded, and wouldn’t blow up in my face. I raced back to the guest room, threw open the window, and pointed it out toward the street
.

Those … things were shaking the truck from side to side, as if trying to overturn it. Ryan’s screaming had become even louder. One of
them
had climbed onto the hood and was trying to break through the windshield …

I closed my eyes—stupid, I know, but I did it without thinking—and fired the gun. When I opened them again, all of the creatures—monsters, really, because that’s what they looked like—had stopped and were staring up at me. There were three of them. Their eyes reflected red, glowing the way cats’ eyes do. Carnivores, I thought. That was something John used to talk about, how you could tell a carnivore by the way its eyes glowed red at night, while anything harmless would appear green …

They watched me for a minute, then looked at each other. It was like they were having a silent discussion, and suddenly I was gripped by terror. I didn’t even know how many bullets were in the gun. What if they tried to come in the house? The doors were locked, but how long would it take them to break a window?