Strangelets

by Michelle Gagnon

  Sophie mulled it over. On the face of it, it was absurd—cancer wasn’t “cured.” She guessed the same held true for comas. And she didn’t believe in miracles, regardless.

  Of course, it was pretty absurd for a bunch of teenagers to get sucked across the planet into the infirmary beneath a research facility, too. And for whole towns to be deserted, and for weird creatures to be nesting inside auto repair shops. Absurd was the order of the day.

  “I said I was never in a coma.” Nico glared at Declan as he enunciated each syllable.

  Sophie drew a deep breath. It would be dark soon, and she definitely didn’t want to be wandering around at night, not after seeing those skeletons. “We were thinking that maybe your dad left a note or something saying where he went. Should we check?”

  Nico dropped his head and rubbed his eyes. He didn’t seem to have heard her.

  “Nico?” she asked hesitantly. “Can you think of where he might have left something like that? Maybe—”

  “Leave me alone.” He spun abruptly and left the room, shoving Declan aside as he passed.

  “Hey!” Declan protested.

  Sophie helped him back up. He rubbed his shoulder and glowered after Nico. “Wishing I’d gone with the other group now. To hell with this bastard.”

  “You could have been nicer about that, you know,” Sophie said in a low voice.

  “Nicer?” He grimaced. “It was bloody nice of me to tag along and watch his back on this little excursion. That should’ve been nice enough for him.”

  “Still,” Sophie said. “He thought his father was going to be here. Then he got this shock, that maybe he’d been about to die.”

  “Well, we’re all a bit shocked, yeah?” Declan said. “And we just wasted a day looking for someone who probably took off with the others. We need to get back on the road. You think Anat waited for us?”

  “Sure,” Sophie said, although part of her strongly doubted it. “Let’s just try to calm him down so we can get out of here.”

  “Calm my arse,” Declan grumbled, but when she left the room he followed.

  They found Nico in the kitchen staring at the refrigerator door with a furrowed brow. Someone had scrawled across the front of it with indelible marker: the bold black strokes stood out starkly against the gleam of stainless steel.

  “What is it?” Sophie asked. It looked like something a mad scientist would have on his whiteboard, a mess of numbers and symbols. She recognized the symbol for pi, and a couple others from precalculus. There was no way she’d be able to make sense of it, though.

  “Great, more maths,” Declan muttered. “I was right, this is hell.”

  “Quiet!” Nico barked. “I’m trying to think.” He ran his fingers lightly across the numbers, starting with the ones in the top left corner and working his way down while muttering under his breath.

  “Nico, does it say anything about—”

  “I said, shut up!”

  Sophie glanced at Declan, who looked annoyed. They stood there waiting for nearly five minutes.

  Nico finally straightened and announced, “I know where he is.”

  Anat sat on the floor with her back pressed against the counter, the Glock gripped in both hands. Yosh was perched on top of it a meter away. She drummed her heels against the wood in a steady rhythm.

  “Stop that,” Anat finally snapped.

  Yosh fell still.

  The adrenaline rush had dissipated, leaving Anat painfully aware of how exhausted she was. Hungry and thirsty, too, and they’d left their remaining supplies in the car outside. They wouldn’t last long holed up in here. She’d tried the tap in the small bathroom—no running water. No food, either. At some point, they’d have to leave. All those creatures had to do was hang around.

  The flashlight bulb started to dim again. Anat set the gun down and gave the handle a few hard cranks, channeling her frustration into the task. It flared brightly, illuminating the door. Staring at it, Anat imagined a cluster of creatures hunched on the other side, waiting. “Yosh. You said you can hear them?”

  “Yes.”

  “How?”

  “I don’t know,” Yosh said. “It’s just something I’ve always been able to do.”

  “Do what? Hear people’s thoughts?”

  “Yes.” Yosh nodded. “I try not to, but … I just can.”

  Anat mulled that over. It was implausible, but it wasn’t the strangest thing she’d ever heard. It wasn’t even the strangest thing she’d experienced this week. How was this any different from her waking up halfway across the world? Hazim’s face flashed across her mind; he seemed farther away than ever. “So what are they thinking right now? Can you tell how many there are?”

  “Their thoughts are … strange. Different,” Yosh said slowly. “I can’t tell exactly how many. Four, or perhaps five? Right now they’re just waiting.”

  Just like she thought. Anat rolled her head from side to side. “Does it work the other way?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean,” Anat said impatiently, “Can you think something at them? To make them go away?”

  “I don’t know.” Yosh sounded startled. “I’ve never tried before.”

  “Try,” Anat aimed the flashlight directly at Yosh’s face. “Because there’s no other way for us to get out of here.”

  Yosh closed her eyes and bowed her head. Anat felt a strange prickling along the inside of her skull, like tiny ants.

  “Not me,” she snapped. “Get closer to the door and try to aim it at them.”

  Yosh slid off the counter and went to the door. Kneeling down, she pressed her cheek and both hands against it. Her eyes closed again.

  Anat’s heart thumped. The whole thing was insane. Maybe she should do them both a favor and end it quickly. A bullet in the head for Yosh, then one for herself. That had to be better than what would happen once they opened that door. The worst death she could conceive of involved falling prey to something else. If she was going to die, she’d prefer to do it on her own terms.

  “I think it worked,” Yosh whispered. “I tried to sound like one of them, ordering the others away. I think they might be like … bees, or something. Maybe there’s a larger one in charge.”

  Great, Anat thought. A larger one. Just what they needed.

  “There’s only one way to be certain.” Yosh reached for the handle.

  Anat darted forward and pressed her palm flat against the door, holding it closed. “How about I go, since I have the gun.”

  “If you insist.”

  “I’ll wait another minute,” Anat said. “To make sure they’re gone.”

  “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 b
ack 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 sud
den 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.