Strangelets (16 page)

She heard the catch in his throat. “I’m sorry.”

“Yeah,” he said brusquely. “Me, too. But we’ll be seeing them all soon, right?”

“Right,” Sophie said, trying not to sound skeptical. Time to change the subject. “You know what the weird thing is?”

“There’s only one weird thing?” he teased.

“Well, okay, one of the many weird things. I don’t think I’m sick anymore.” She surprised herself by saying it, but it was true. She felt different somehow, like whatever was festering inside her had been swept away. That was something they never told you about having cancer, how it felt like there was something rotting inside you.

“Huh,” he said doubtfully. “How do you know?”

“It’s kind of hard to explain,” Sophie said, “But I just—I know I’m really weak, and it’s hard for me to keep up, but inside I feel … different. Like all the bad stuff is gone.”

“The cancer, you mean?”

“Yeah,” Sophie said. “Sounds crazy, right?”

“No crazier than anything else,” he said. “And if it’s true, I’m glad for you.”

“Yeah, me too,” Sophie said. “I just wonder how it could have happened.”

“However it happened, it’s a good thing, right?”

“I guess,” she said. “I just can’t figure out how we all got here. And what happened to everyone.”

“We’ll find out tomorrow,” he said.

Hearing the conviction in his voice, Sophie managed to force a smile. She wished she could be so sure. “Thanks.”

“For what?”

“For helping me today, and … just for being so nice and positive. I swear, if it wasn’t for you, I think we all might’ve fallen apart.”

He snorted. “Nah. Anat would’ve killed you first, most likely.”

Sophie laughed out loud. He was sitting on the edge of a moonbeam that dusted his eyelashes silver. She was suddenly aware of how close they were, and of other things: her breathing had changed, and there was a strange warmth coursing beneath her skin. The sensations confused her; she felt giddy, flustered. Kind of like the rush she used to get right before fainting, but different. His eyes glowed bright blue in the light, and a small smile played across his lips. On an impulse, she leaned over and kissed him.

Declan started and she jerked away, pressing the back of her hand to her lips. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry. I don’t know what came over me.”

“It’s all right, Sophie. I just … you have to understand, I like you loads, but I’ve got Katie, and—”

“I know,” she interrupted. “And I’m really, really sorry.”

Embarrassed, she got to her feet, nearly tripping over the blanket wrapped around her legs. Tugging it loose, she scrambled toward the door.

“Sophie, wait!” he called after her in a low hiss.

She paused on the threshold. “What?”

A long moment passed, then Declan said, “Sweet dreams.”

“You too,” she muttered as she fled the room.

Anat was pleased with
their progress. Yosh wasn’t very talkative, but that suited her. And she didn’t complain about the pace, although at times she was clearly struggling to keep up, short legs churning double-time to match her long strides.

The night had passed uneventfully. She’d insisted they take turns keeping watch, although she’d caught Declan dead asleep when she went to relieve him. It annoyed her, but fortunately they hadn’t seen any sign of the “monsters” mentioned in the journal.

She’d spent her shift sharpening the end of a long stick with a knife. She’d found it in the backyard yesterday afternoon, a section of branch that must have fallen in the last storm. It wasn’t as good as a gun but would be more useful than the iron rod she’d lugged around yesterday, and lighter, too. She had some experience in fighting with sticks, thanks to her Krav Maga instruction. She felt moderately better having it, although the drawback of getting saddled with Yosh was that she wouldn’t be much help in a fight.

Unless she provided a distraction if Anat was forced to flee during an attack.

Not a nice thought, but there it was. Anat intended to survive and get back to Hazim, and nothing and no one was going to stop her.

Ryan had been true to his word; this road had definitely been cleared. Most of the cars they passed had either been totaled, or were stuck in a ditch. She was unable to find keys for the only one that was potentially drivable, and hotwiring cars wasn’t one of her talents.
Declan could probably have managed it
, she thought with a pang. It had been a shame that Nico had been so insistent on finding his father. He’d tried to talk to her last night during her shift, but she’d told him in no uncertain terms to go back to bed. Part of her was relieved that she wouldn’t feel his eyes on her all day.

By noon, they’d probably made it three kilometers. Not what she’d hoped for, but all things considered not bad. Anat stopped in the shade of a stand of trees by the side of the road. Yosh sank to the ground, plainly exhausted. Anat dug food out of the backpack she’d found in an upstairs closet and passed her a few stale crackers slathered with peanut butter, a handful of shriveled raisins, and a cookie.

They ate in silence. It was cooler today, the air carried a whiff of rotting leaves and something else—salt, maybe?

“How much farther?” Yosh asked.

Anat repressed a twinge of annoyance. She’d outlined the trip in its entirety last night. She’d expected Yosh to be delighted that they were taking the shorter, more direct, and likely safest route. But the girl had barely paid attention. Her gaze remained locked on the middle distance, so focused that Anat was tempted to glance over her shoulder to see if something was there. Either she was having a harder time handling
the situation than the rest of them, or she was always like this. Frankly, Anat didn’t really care. Her initial instinct to protect the girl had been surpassed by her urge for self-preservation.

“Another few kilometers,” Anat said.

Yosh chewed glumly.

“If we find a car soon, we could be there in an hour.” Anat wiped crumbs from her mouth and tucked away the rest of her lunch—although she was still hungry, rationing couldn’t hurt. Who knew how long it would take the others to reach the intersection? She was prepared to wait until midday tomorrow, then she’d insist on proceeding to the coastline. It was roughly another nine kilometers to Mt. Sinai harbor, the nearest port according to the map. With any luck they’d quickly find a boat, and from there the crossing shouldn’t take more than a few hours. If there had been some sort of nuclear event here, the less time they spent in the fallout, the better.

They finally encountered a battered old Volvo wagon. All four tires were still on pavement, and keys dangled from the ignition. She checked the driver’s side door: unlocked.

Anat opened it and slid behind the wheel. She adjusted the seat; the driver must have been a midget, it was practically pulled up to the dashboard. The car smelled musty, and the leather seat was cracked and faded. The ashtray was pulled out and filled with spare change; aside from that there were no personal items in sight.

She said a silent prayer and turned the key. The engine ground but didn’t catch. Anat tried again, gently goosing the gas pedal.

The engine turned over and roared to life. A faint smile spread across her lips. “Coming?” Anat asked, rolling down the window to let in some air.

Yosh nodded and slid into the rear passenger seat.

That was an odd choice, Anat thought, irritated. As if she was some sort of chauffeur. But Yosh could ride on the roof if she liked; all that mattered was that they’d finally found a working car. Out loud she said, “Buckle up. I’ll go slowly, but the road is bad.”

She carefully backed up, then shifted into drive. They progressed slowly, no more than ten kilometers per hour. Sometimes the gap between abandoned cars was so narrow she was forced to slow to a crawl to edge through; other times she had to go off the road entirely to avoid gaping potholes. Still, it was a relief to be driving for a change. Sitting in the car meant they got to rest and store up energy reserves, plus the metal shell offered a degree of protection. She’d spent much of the hike checking their rear flank, clasping her sharpened stick in a death grip. It was a relief to hold a steering wheel for a change.

Anat flicked the radio on: the sound of static filled the car. She hit the scan button, and the radio panned through every station without stopping. After three passes, she turned it off again and checked the odometer. They were making decent time. Probably another six kilometers to Middle Island. Once there, hopefully it would be relatively simple to locate the gun store. If it wasn’t on the main road, they’d stop and find a telephone directory somewhere.

She’d never been somewhere so green before: leaf-laden branches dangled just above the car. Wild grass sprouted from potholes, waving gently in their wake. It was sunny, and a wisp of breeze drifted through the open windows. Her eyes were caught by a riot of red, a tree with such brilliant foliage it looked like it had just burst into flame. Long Island was pretty. She’d had no idea.

All in all, she was feeling optimistic.

That feeling vanished a second later. A familiar keening sound echoed across the road ahead. It was sharp, piercing—and answered by a matching call behind them.

Anat slowed the car.

“They’re coming for us,” Yosh said placidly.

Anat whirled in her seat. Yosh was sitting with her hands crossed in her lap and a funny half-smile on her face.

“What do you mean?” Anat demanded. “Who is coming for us?”

For the first time that day, Yosh appeared wide awake. “They’re waiting.”

“What are you talking about?” Anat spat.

Before Yosh could respond, a rock sailed out of the woods and shattered the windshield.

Anat reacted quickly, slamming on the brakes, then overcorrecting as the car flew into a skid. The car veered wildly from side to side. They came within inches of vaulting off the road into a ditch, but at the last minute Anat ground the brake pedal into the floor.

They both jerked forward as the car lurched to a stop.

“What was that?” Anat demanded. “Where did it come from?”

Yosh didn’t answer. Anat caught a glimpse of something in the rearview mirror: the brush lining the right side of the road was waving wildly. Something big was coming their way, fast. Gritting her teeth, Anat threw the car into reverse and slammed on the gas. They jolted back a few feet, and she shifted into Drive again. She bent low to see through the small section of windshield that remained intact.

The whole time, her gaze kept flicking to the rearview mirror. Their pursuer hadn’t given up: not only could she see
the path it carved through the trees, she could hear branches being crushed underfoot. Her pulse pounded in her ears, drowning out the inhuman keening noise that seemed to echo all around them. “There’s no point trying to escape, Anat,” Yosh said. “You should stop the car.”

“Would you two just
let it go?” Sophie grumbled. She was hot and tired. They’d been marching along a crumbling road for the better part of two hours, and she was already regretting the decision to leave the house. Sweat streamed down her back. She hated this kind of muggy weather. The way the trees hunched over the road made it feel like she was wading through a rainforest.

Bad enough that she’d gotten stuck with the group headed into town; but to make matters worse, Declan and Nico had been bickering nonstop. Declan was sticking by his religious explanation for all of this—namely, that they were already dead. Nico kept arguing for scientific explanations: a nuclear reactor meltdown, a dirty bomb.

She’d rarely seen two people take such an instant and extreme dislike to each other. Sophie got the feeling that if they weren’t arguing about this, it would be something else, like whether or not aliens existed or if veal should be made illegal.

And Declan had barely spoken to her all morning. Not that she could blame him. She was still mortified. What had she been thinking, trying to kiss him? She’d never done anything like that before. In fact, she’d only seriously kissed a boy once, right before she found out she was sick: Brad Kagel, this guy she’d had a crush on practically forever. Of course, once her diagnosis came in, he pretty much stopped talking to her. Turned out boys weren’t so into you once you lost your hair.

Sophie sighed. Declan was walking a few feet ahead of her. There was a high flush in his cheeks, due either to the weather or his irritation with Nico. Sweat had curled the dark hair at the base of his neck, and his shirt was pasted across his shoulder blades.

She forced herself to look away.
He has a girlfriend, you moron
. Besides, she could just imagine what her parents would think. He’d broken into that house in under a minute and kept bragging about his car theft skills. Classic bad boy, the type who snuck cigarettes in the school bathroom and spent every afternoon in detention. What had she been thinking?

And as far as whether or not they were in purgatory … honestly, Sophie could not care less anymore. If they were already dead, she really didn’t understand the point of doing
anything
. And if they were alive, but stuck in some radioactive wasteland … well, that wasn’t exactly good news either. As if reading her mind, Declan asked, “So what do you think’s happened, then? If this isn’t purgatory?”