Strangelets (25 page)

“No, I don’t want a damn whistle,” Sophie snapped. “I just can’t believe you’re not offering to help us more.”

“Why would I help you?” Bruder sounded genuinely bewildered.

“Because we came back here with your son, even though we could have gone with our friends!” Sophie was practically shouting now, and her eyes seemed to be throwing off sparks. “Instead, we helped Nico find you, and all you offer us is a whistle? God, we’re just a couple of kids! What’s wrong with you?”

Bruder blinked rapidly and shook his head. “I … I guess I hadn’t really …”

“And you!” She spun to face Nico. “You’re even worse. Great, you found your dad. Well, the rest of us just found out that everyone we know might be dead or gone, and we’re all on our own in a really dangerous place. And you’re just going to stay here with him, while we go back out there? What about Anat and Yosh?”

Nico swallowed. He glanced at his father. “I guess … you could stay if you want. Right,
Vater
?”

“Of course,” Bruder said, recovering. “Stay as long as you like.”

“Now hang on,” Declan protested. This wasn’t going at all the way he’d hoped. “I say we head back to the infirmary, hole up there …”

“No,” Sophie said firmly. “We’re all going together to find Anat and Yosh. Then we’re going back to the Collider—”

“It’s much safer here,” Bruder interrupted. “I’m surprised that you didn’t encounter the others at the facility. The area is usually swarming with them.”

The others?
Declan thought. Was he talking about the dinosaurs again? “Well, there was something—”

“I want you to try and restart the Collider,” Sophie stated firmly.

“I told you, that’s impossible.” Bruder said. “It’s not as if I can simply plug in a date and time and send us back there.”

“But you could try to replicate what happened last time. I mean, you were there, right?”

“Yes. I was there.” His tone was flat.

“So maybe you could just do what they did,” Sophie offered. “I mean, it certainly couldn’t make things any worse.”

“Of course it could! I have my son with me now. If I retrigger the cataclysm, we could all be swept into another dimension. One without air, or water. One where the chance of human survival would be negligible.” He shook his head. “It’s simply not worth the risk.”

“The risk?” Now Declan was angry. He pictured his mum and Katie, living in a hole like this for a couple decades. “Doesn’t seem like you thought much about risk when you turned that machine on in the first place.”

“It was a controlled experiment,” Bruder said. “All the necessary precautions were taken.”

It was too dark for Declan to clearly see his eyes, but it was hard to shake the sense that the bastard was lying. Something about his tone whenever he mentioned the experiment indicated there was more to the story than he was saying.

“I’m truly sorry. I know this has all been a shock,” Bruder said. “But you’ll learn to make the best of things. This world isn’t so bad, once you get used to it.”

They stood in silence for a minute.

“So that’s it, then,” Sophie said. Her voice was laden with defeat. Declan stepped close and wrapped an arm around her shoulder, but she stayed stiff and resistant. “We’re stuck here.”

“Nico and I can help you find the others,” Bruder offered. “If you’d like.”

“No. Just stay here in your hole and hide.” She turned and marched toward the dark corridor. Declan had to hurry to catch her.

“You’re sure about this?” he asked in a low voice.

“I’m sure. Screw them,” she said firmly. “We’ll be fine without them.”

Declan wasn’t as confident about that, but he didn’t say anything. Now that they were going topside, he was having a hard time blocking out the image of the creature from yesterday. Much as he disliked the Bruders, Nico’s dad had managed to survive out here for a good long time. Probably not a bad idea to have him as a tour guide, at least for a bit. And his stomach was rumbling again; he really wished Sophie could have saved the whole storming off thing until after breakfast. He sighed. Apparently that strong will he so admired had its drawbacks.

The base of the ladder was faintly haloed by light filtering down from overhead. As he helped her onto the bottom rung, footsteps echoed down the tunnel behind them.

“Sophie! Declan!” Nico called out. “Wait!”

Declan turned, hoping that Nico was holding a plate of eggs and bangers. No such luck, though; he had the same water bottle they’d taken from the facility and a small rucksack on his back.

“I’m coming with you,” Nico said, panting slightly.

“Yeah?” Declan asked. “You sure?”

“I’m sure.”

“What about your father?” Sophie asked warily.

“He’s not happy about it,” Nico admitted. “But I told him you were right.” He examined the floor. “I owe you two for coming with me. I can’t let you go out there alone.”

“And a fat lot of help you were,” Declan grumbled, but
Sophie jabbed him in the rib cage with her elbow to shut him up.

“Just until you find the others,” Nico clarified. “Then I’m coming back.”

“Fine,” Sophie said. “You can help explain everything.”

“Better you than me,” Declan said. “I can just imagine how well Anat will take the news. You’ll be lucky if she doesn’t take your head off.”

They all fell silent. Declan figured they were thinking the same thing he was, wondering if Anat was even still alive.

“Well, let’s go,” Sophie said with forced bravado. “They’re probably already at the meet spot.”

Nico went first up the ladder, shoving aside the concealing branches at the top. Sophie followed a minute later. Declan glanced back down the tunnel. Bruder hovered silently at the far end, his stooped form cast in silhouette.

Declan turned away and started climbing. He pulled himself over the dirt lip surrounding the hole and squeezed out the gap between boulders. Sophie and Nico stood there waiting for him. It was cooler than yesterday, a crispness in the air hinted at autumn.
Lovely weather for 2033
, he thought to himself.

“Let’s head back to the car,” Nico said. “Keep your eyes open for thrinaxes. My dad gave me a flute just in case, but I’m not sure how to use it.”

“Right,” Declan agreed. They collected the weapons they’d stashed the night before.
Not that a hoe will be much use against a dinosaur, but what the hell
, Declan thought. Worst case scenario, it could double as a walking stick.

Sophie shuffled ahead of him, her head bowed. Something occurred to him.

“Hey,” he said, scurrying to catch up. “If we went back to how things were, you might be sick again, right?”

“Probably.” Sophie’s eyes darted up to meet his, then focused back on the path in front of her.

“So why would you want that?”

She shrugged. “I was ready to die. But everyone else on the planet probably didn’t feel that way. Especially my parents, and Nora. Knowing that they’d be fine made it easier for me to let go.”

“So you’d give up your life, then? For people you’ve never even met?”

She gave him a curious look. “Of course,” she said. “Wouldn’t you?”

Declan thought it over. Going back, the worst thing he’d have to face would be that Russian in the alley. Funny, after confronting an honest-to-God dinosaur, that bastard didn’t seem nearly as frightening. But if he knew that returning would guarantee a bullet in his head, although other people would survive … tough choice. “Maybe. If I knew for certain that my mum and … other people I care about would be safe,” he finished lamely. It was hard for him to say Katie’s name out loud. He was still having a hard time letting go of the guilt, although if Bruder was telling the truth, he and Katie had technically been broken up for decades.

Sophie grazed her finger along a tree trunk as she walked past it. After a minute, she said ruefully, “When I woke up here and realized I was still alive, I was pretty angry about it.”

“Really? Because you’ve been fighting awfully hard to stay alive,” he pointed out.

She laughed at that.

Nico turned and scowled at them. “We need to be quiet,” he warned.

“You’re right. Sorry,” Sophie whispered. She turned back to Declan and said, “I got a chance to
feel
alive again. That part has been kind of fun. Among other things,” she added with a small smile, avoiding his eyes.

Declan could feel a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. She was right; in spite of everything, parts of it had been bloody fantastic. “Remind me to never go on holiday with you.”

“Oh, but you already are,” Sophie said with a smile. “This is as close as I’ve come to a vacation in years.”

“Bad lot, then. You should complain to your travel agent when you get back.”

Sophie was opening her mouth to reply when a yell cut her off. They both froze. Nico turned back toward them, a puzzled expression on his face.

“Is it one of them?” Sophie asked in a hushed voice.

There was rapid movement, closing in. A second later, Bruder crashed through the undergrowth.

“Dad?” Nico said uncertainly. “Did you—”

“Run!” Bruder screamed, his eyes wild. “They’re coming!”

Anat’s fingers gripped the
steering wheel. Unlike yesterday, she drove slowly, carefully swerving to avoid cars and potholes.

As before, Yosh sat in the back staring passively through the windshield.

It was all contributing to a strange sense of déjà vu. She kept her eyes focused forward to avoid looking at their unlikely escorts.

A phalanx of Yosh’s “pets” kept pace with their car. Eight of them had emerged from the dark recesses of the grocery store last night. Under instructions from Yosh, Anat had eaten some of the stale food from the shelves; crackers, mostly, and a few cans of pears. Then she’d tried to sleep.

Every time Anat opened her eyes, she found one of the creatures standing watch over her. She’d kept the Glock clutched in both hands—they’d made no effort to retrieve it from her. Not that it would be much use. Under that smelly fur, their bodies were covered in thick, armor-like scales. She’d spent
most of the night rigid with terror, her mind racing, trying to come up with an escape plan.

But right before they left the store, Yosh took the Glock from her. For a moment Anat had considered fighting, but she was surrounded by the creatures—
keep watching and waiting
, she thought grudgingly. She still had other weapons anyway; less effective ones, but the throwing stars were tucked away in her pocket. Yosh didn’t know about those.

After finding a car in the parking lot that started on the fourth try, they set off. Yosh had instructed her to drive back the way they came. “I’ll tell you when to turn,” she’d said as she settled into the center of the backseat.

So here they were, retracing their steps. All of her questions about the other three kids had been dismissed.

“They’ll be there,” Yosh assured her. “It’s been taken care of.”

Anat tried not to think about what she meant by that. From the sound of it, Yosh somehow knew that the others were alive. Maybe when they were all together again, there would be an opportunity to craft a plan.
But to what end?
she reminded herself. If any of this was true, Hazim was long gone.

Even if he had survived, he would be twenty years older and half a planet away, in a world without any functioning transportation systems. He might as well be on the moon. He’d probably married someone else. He might even have children. The thought made her feel physically ill.

“I can drive if you like,” Yosh offered placidly. “My father taught me.”

“They have cars where you come from?”

“No. But we figured yours out soon after getting here,” Yosh said. “In general we don’t use them, though. The
penalties for venturing outside your own territory are severe.”

“Who sets the boundaries?” Anat asked. In her personal experience, confining people to “territories” never worked out well.

“We have leaders, just like you did,” Yosh said. “But generally, we’re left to manage on our own.”

“Are the other territories having trouble with their … food supply, too?” she asked.

“That’s what I’ve heard,” Yosh said. “Although we don’t get information as regularly as those on the mainland.”

“So your people are everywhere on the planet, then?” Anat had no idea if the information would prove helpful but figured it couldn’t hurt to find out as much as possible. According to her instructors, intelligence gathering always provided an edge. Of course, they probably hadn’t been referring to this type of situation.

“I have no idea,” Yosh said, sounding bored. “Maybe.”

Anat mulled that over. It didn’t sound like there was much communication available, even though Yosh had that mind reading ability. There were probably limits to it, maybe related to distance. She filed that away. “And these … pets of yours—”

“We call them cynogs,” Yosh supplied helpfully.

“Right. Aside from them, and you, nothing else from your world came through?”

“A few smaller things, like dumas and yoris,” Yosh said. “They ate up a lot of the smaller wildlife. But my parents said we were pretty much the dominant creatures in our world.”