Strangelets (20 page)

“It’s better not to wait,” Yosh countered. “I’m not certain how long it will work.”

Girding herself, Anat said in a low voice, “Okay, open the door. If I give the signal, close and lock it fast.”

“What’s the signal?”

“Probably a scream,” Anat said grimly, then nodded for Yosh to open the door.

Declan wasn’t happy. This
whole detour seemed like a terrible idea. Nico had somehow managed to convince Sophie that the jumbled mess on the fridge was a map to a specific place where they’d find his father. And for God knows what reason, Sophie had chosen to believe him. They’d voted down his suggestion to find another car and head out to meet the others.

So now they were trudging through the woods. Declan gripped his hoe firmly, keeping his eyes peeled for anything out of the ordinary. He’d never seen so many bloody trees in his entire life—it was damned claustrophobic. He’d already tripped on more tree roots than he could count, and it was still bloody hot. The bugs weren’t letting up, either. How the hell had he ended up in America? He’d always wanted to come, but apparently his mates were right; it
was
overrated.

They must look a sight
, he thought with sudden amusement, all clutching tools and gardening implements like a ragtag army. His mum would have a laugh if she saw him now.

Declan’s eyes swam, and he quickly swiped the back of his hand against them. There was a good chance he’d never see anyone he cared about again, all thanks to some eejit in a pub. He should’ve known better, he chastised himself. You never take jobs from strangers. Any gig that sounded like a cakewalk would likely go arseways; this had certainly proven that. Christ, what he’d give to be back home right now, walking along the docks with Katie, his mum’s Sunday roast warm in his belly.

But no. Instead he was trailing along behind a bloke he didn’t trust, helping him find
his
family. It hardly seemed fair
that in this godforsaken place, the biggest gobshite was the only one with someone still around who cared for him. Lucky sod had apparently survived a coma, too, and how many people could say that? If he’d ever needed further proof that life wasn’t fair, well, there you go.

“How much farther?” he finally asked.

“Not far,” Nico said without looking back.

Sophie shot him a thin smile. He glowered back at her, still peeved that at the first opportunity, she’d sided against him. Maybe she was just being spiteful. He’d wanted to explain that kissing her was pretty much all he’d thought of since the minute she took his hand that first day. But that more importantly, he loved Katie. Sophie should respect that, right? Even though now, he could barely picture Katie’s face …

Well, Sophie and Nico could both stuff it. He was giving this little excursion ten more minutes, then he’d head back to the road and to hell with them both.

“We’re here,” Nico said, stopping in front of a towering tree.

“Where?” Declan asked, looking around. They were in a small clearing, like a dozen others they’d already passed through. The ground was heavily carpeted with pine needles. Aside from that, nothing but more trees.

Nico checked something on his watch and frowned. “A mile west, then a half mile north. This should be the spot. It’s quite clear.”

“Care to explain?” Declan said. “Because none of it seems clear. I thought your watch wasn’t working, anyway.”

“The GPS isn’t, but it still records mileage,” Nico insisted. “It was a gift from my dad on my last birthday. He knows that I have it, which is why he left those instructions.”

Declan laughed bitterly. “Ah yes, the instructions. Clear as day, those were.”

“I know that formula. We were talking about it on the day …” Nico’s face clouded over and he cleared his throat. “Anyway, that was what we used to do on hikes, go over famous old proofs. And that one has a clear result. He added in symbols at the bottom so that I’d know which direction to follow.”

“Sure, great plan,” Declan said. “ ’Course, he could have just written, ‘Nico, me boy, walk out into the woods for a bit, go stand in front of a bloody tree, and look like an arse.’ ”

“He wrote it in code,” Nico insisted, “So that I’d be the only one who could find him.”

“I believe him,” Sophie chimed in. “If he says this is the spot, then it is.”

“Well, that’s just brilliant.” Declan dropped to a crouch and rocked back on his heels. “Tell you what, I don’t see any sign of the great man here. Do you?”

“We haven’t looked yet.” Nico kicked at the needles underfoot.

“Good luck with it, then. Wake me when you realize how nutters this is.” Declan stretched out full length and crossed his hands behind his head, gazing up at the branches.

The two of them dug around the ground and tapped on tree trunks, like this was a feckin’ movie and the ground would open up if they hit the right knothole. Madness. He yawned widely, inhaling the smell of dying leaves and woodsmoke and …

Declan bolted upright and sniffed.

Had to be his imagination. But if it wasn’t …

Sophie and Nico were moving in tandem, kicking needles into small piles, running their hands over the bark of the closest trees.

Oh, how he hated to be wrong. Admitting it was even worse. Still, Declan gritted his teeth and said, “Either of you smell smoke?”

Nico’s head snapped up. “It must be him!”

“All right then,” Declan said, reluctantly getting to his feet. “Let’s have a look.”

It took ten minutes of scouring the forest to pinpoint the source: a lazy wisp of black wound skyward from a hollowed out stump. Nico peered inside. “Looks like it goes a long way down, then turns.”

“So it’s some sort of chimney?” Sophie asked.

“Yes! He must be underground,” Nico said excitedly. Leaning over it, he called down, “
Vater
?
Sie sind da unten
?”

No response. The thin tendril of smoke curled lazily upwards, drifting past them toward the treetops.

Declan scowled. “I say we give it another minute, then—”

A grating shriek cut him off. All the hairs on his body shot up, and he froze. Whatever made that sound wasn’t human, he felt it in his bones.

“I think we’d better hide,” Sophie said in a low voice.

Declan wanted to agree, but he’d lost the use of his tongue. It was like one of those terrible dreams where your mind was screaming at you to run, but your feet remained stubbornly rooted to the ground. He wasn’t alone. The other two had frozen in place alongside him.

“Where do we go?” Nico hissed. “Up, do you think?”

Declan managed to tilt his head toward the sky. There were plenty of climbable trees nearby, pines with thick branches that would provide good cover. But they didn’t have any idea whether or not the creatures described in the diary could climb. They might turn out to be regular monkeys, and then they’d be screwed.

He examined the stump—it was too narrow for even Sophie to slip into. “Up it is.” No other options.

Nico was already at the base of the nearest tree. He seized
hold of a lower branch and executed a perfect chin-up, then threw his right leg over the branch. Within seconds, he was out of sight.

Declan was about to follow when he realized Sophie couldn’t reach that branch; it was too high overhead. Looking frantic, she rushed to the next tree. She jumped, arms extended, but missed entirely and landed hard on the ground. “Bollocks,” he muttered before trotting over to help.

“Grab my shoulders,” he instructed, clasping his hands together, “and use this as a step.” He boosted her up, grunting a little as her heel ground into the palm of his hand.

“I can’t quite reach,” she gasped.

“Try again,” he said, aiming for a patient tone. But he was all too aware of the sound of something crashing through the brush, headed their way. He pressed his hands as high as he could, straining under her weight. Again, she slipped.

“It’s no use.” Tears streamed down Sophie’s face. “Go ahead and climb. I’ll be fine.”

“I haven’t been carrying you everywhere just to leave you hanging about on the ground now. Now come on. Don’t be such a girl about it.”

Sophie pressed firmly on his shoulders. He bent both knees and said, “One … two …”

On three he thrust up with all his strength, pushing on her foot as hard as he could.

“I got it!” Sophie yelled as her flailing legs kicked him in the solar plexus. Declan looked up—her chest was on the branch, and she was struggling to swing a leg over. Panting from the effort, she made it to a seated position and flashed a thumbs up.

“Grand,” he said breathlessly. “Get a little higher and I’ll follow.”

“Declan!” Sophie hissed. She was still perched on the lowest branch, within arms-reach of the ground.
Doesn’t follow directions well
, he thought to himself. She’d blanched completely, her focus directed at something past his shoulder.

“Not to rush you, bird, but I can’t exactly climb on top of you,” he said. “Can we save the chat for later?”

“Behind you!”

Slowly, Declan turned. When he saw what was standing just a few yards away, he stumbled backward, scraping his hands against the rough bark of the tree trunk.

Above him, Sophie screamed.

Anat blinked against the
sudden brightness. Dusk was falling, and late afternoon shadows crept across the shopping plaza. Her heart hammered in her chest. She swept the gun quickly in an arc, left to right. Everything was silent and still. The place looked just as abandoned as when they’d pulled in.

No creatures in sight.

She pivoted to check the roof, but an overhang above the door obstructed her view. Cautiously, Anat edged around the car until she was a few feet from the driver’s side door. What she could see of the roof appeared clear, and the car itself was empty. She dropped to a squat and peered beneath it: nothing.

“
Kus emek
,” she muttered. Whatever Yosh had done, it worked.

Yosh appeared at her side. “There is a grocery store a few blocks away,” she said. “With metal gates. We can wait for the others there.”

“Did those … things tell you that?” Anat asked skeptically,
still unsure what to call them. Creatures? Monsters? “Maybe it’s a trap.”

Yosh said, “We’ll be safe there.”

She doesn’t blink enough
, Anat thought—hardly ever, in fact. “You didn’t answer my question,”

“Just follow me.” Without waiting for a response, Yosh started walking toward the street.

Anat hesitated. After witnessing the speed those things were capable of, she wasn’t looking forward to chancing her luck against them on the road again, especially not after dark—and night was approaching fast. Yosh had gotten rid of the things, at least temporarily. Maybe she’d be able to keep them away. A grocery store would have food and water, too. She hurried to catch up.

They walked in silence. Anat gave each car they passed a cursory examination. She understood now why Ryan had commandeered the largest vehicle he could find. When they headed for the coast, she wanted to be behind the wheel of something large and impenetrable—preferably the cab of a tractor trailer, or at least the largest pickup truck she could find. Which shouldn’t be too difficult. This was America, after all—and from what she understood, their passion for hot dogs and baseball was only matched by their love of obscenely large cars.

The streets were quiet and still. With dusk, a chill had set in. Anat repressed a shiver. She caught herself thinking that in spite of everything, this was a lovely, quaint little town. The majority of storefronts were set on the ground floor of historic homes, old brick buildings with wide verandas. Their window displays were crammed with old furniture, antiques, pastel-toned clothing, even an old-fashioned candy store. There was nothing like it in Tel Aviv. She’d
seen this sort of setting in movies but always figured it was made up, just another part of the American propaganda machine.

Anat’s eyes panned continuously, drawn by any stray flicker of movement. She’d felt like this on her first training mission: ramped up, edgy. The difference was that then, she more or less knew what to expect from the enemy.

They reached an intersection crowded with abandoned cars, where a streetlight dangled crookedly. “Straight,” Yosh said softly.

Anat nodded and kept moving forward, thinking,
Yosh can’t be trusted. There’s something wrong with her. Something unnatural
.

“One more block,” Yosh said. “There it is.”

Anat followed her gaze. A hundred yards away, an old neon sign leaned sideways on a chunk of broken pavement. The dimmed letters read,
STOP N
’
SHOP
. Beyond it, another parking lot, mostly empty. As promised, the front of the store was protected by a metal gate, the kind that shopkeepers slid down nightly.

“It’s unlocked,” Yosh said, “And there’s still food inside.”

“How could you possibly know that?” Anat demanded. She was clutching the gun too hard, her knuckles had gone white. She forced herself to relax—the last thing she needed was a hand cramp at a crucial moment.

Yosh didn’t answer. Anat slid from car to car, utilizing what little cover was available as they approached the doors. The gate was down, but not all the way; the bottom stopped a few centimeters shy of the ground.