Strangelets (24 page)

“Brilliant,” Declan muttered, “Well, last I checked, we don’t all look like piles of atoms.”

“Precisely,” Bruder said. “Which is why all of this is impossible to explain. It completely defies the laws of physics. If you really had slipped through a rift, none of you should have survived. Including the thrinaxes.”

“So how do you explain it, then?” Declan demanded.

Bruder shrugged. “Obviously the original theories were wrong. You’re living proof of that.”

After a long beat, Declan said, “So to sum up, you’re saying that we’re twenty years in the future, all the people are basically gone, and there are monsters running around?”

Bruder shifted uncomfortably for a minute. Then he shrugged again. “Yes. I suppose you could say that.”

“Twenty years?” Anat said
incredulously. The Glock was still pointed directly at Yosh’s sternum.

“Or so,” Yosh said. “Based on what we’ve learned from your culture, that seems a fair estimate.”

“What do you mean, what you learned from our culture?” Anat demanded. “You can’t possibly have been here for twenty years.”

Yosh smiled. “No, I was born here. My parents arrived twenty years ago.”

“That’s insane,” Anat argued as she checked her peripheral vision. The creatures were holding their positions, staring down at her with slitted yellow eyes. The metal gate to the outside was down, and she had no idea if there were any other exits. She had to keep stalling for time, and hope that an escape opportunity arose. Yosh was smiling at her, as if guessing her thoughts. Anat wondered just how extensive her mind reading skills were.

“It makes sense when you think about it, though, doesn’t it?”

“Maybe Long Island is always like this,” Anat grumbled.

Yosh laughed out loud. “You’re actually very funny, Anat, even though you don’t think so.”

“I have no reason to believe you,” Anat snarled. Yosh was clearly mocking her, and she hated that more than anything. Her finger depressed the trigger a fraction; she could picture a hole forming right in the center of the girl’s forehead. That would wipe the irritating grin from her face.

“I have no reason to lie to you. Not anymore, at least.”

Anat mulled that over. She caught herself fervently hoping that this was all just a terrible dream. Maybe she’d hit her head in the tunnel and was actually unconscious right now. Any moment now she’d awaken in her bed back home. Or better yet, in the hotel room with Hazim. She tried to picture his arms around her, his mouth against her ear, murmuring all the things he’d promised time and again. His hands clasping hers, their rings shining …

“All right,” she finally said. “So if you’re right, and we’re twenty years in the future, where is everyone else?”

“Dead, mostly,” Yosh said impassively. “Although there weren’t many left when we came. At least, that’s what my parents told me.”

“Where are your parents?”

“They fell ill a few years ago,” Yosh said, her voice flat and emotionless. “They’re dead now, too.”

“So how did you end up with us?”

“We live near the facility. A few of my parents’ friends realized early on that the Collider had something to do with how we came to be here. We’ve been experimenting with it for years. The last test was a few days ago; that’s probably how you all ended up here.”

“So you decided to pretend to be one of us?” Anat asked.

“Yes, because we need help,” Yosh admitted. “There’s not enough food here anymore. We need to go home.”

“What are you talking about?” Anat jerked her head toward the shelves. “There’s plenty of food around.”

“For us, maybe, but not for the cynogs. They’re dying off.” Yosh sounded genuinely sad about it. “The fresh meat ran out quickly. We’ve tried to feed them other food, but it makes them sick.”

Anat eyed the creatures surrounding Yosh. They stared back, their eyes flat and menacing. “So what do they eat?”

“Anything large,” Yosh said dismissively. “They started with the bigger animals.”

Anat didn’t really want to know, but she forced herself to ask anyway. “They ate the people?”

“Yes,” Yosh said. “But there aren’t enough left now, and there are too many of us. We need to find another food source. This planet …” She looked around the grocery store and wrinkled her nose. “It’s not right for us. I hate it here. The stories my parents told me, about our world … it sounds like a better place.” She murmured something soothing to the creature beside her.

It was such a weird scene that Anat was having trouble processing it. She forced herself to focus and asked, “I still don’t understand what you want from us. Why are you keeping us alive?”

“I was curious. I’ve never met one of you before.”

Shifting uncomfortably under her gaze, Anat asked, “How many of you are there?”

Yosh smiled. “Still trying to figure out a plan, Anat? I have to say, in many ways, you’re the most interesting of all. So different from what I’ve read about girls.”

“If all the girls hadn’t been eaten, you wouldn’t have had to read about them in books,” Anat muttered.

Yosh casually leaned against the creature beside her and stroked its nose. It shifted, nuzzling against her side like a cat.
A giant, terrifying, lizard cat
, Anat thought.

“Don’t blame me,” Yosh said airily. “Most of the people were gone before I was even born.”

Anat watched, fascinated in spite of herself, as the creature emitted clicking sounds as if it was … purring? “Can you really get these things to do what you tell them to?”

“That’s the way it’s always been,” Yosh said. “We speak the same language. They’re kind of like … what’s the word for the small animals you kept in your houses?”

“Pets?” Anat said dubiously.

“Yes, pets. I should have liked to have seen a dog,” Yosh said wistfully. “There are some wonderful books about them.”

After several deep breaths, Anat lowered the Glock. She’d keep it in reserve for later; it was no good to her at the moment anyway. And much as she longed to put a hole in Yosh, the creatures would probably set upon her immediately. “So what do you want me to do?”

“We’re going for a drive,” Yosh announced. “Back the way we came.”

Anat’s heart sank. Every mile she traveled only seemed to take her farther away from Hazim. “And if I say no?”

“Then …” Yosh shrugged. “I suppose we won’t have any more use for you.”

Declan was dreaming. Katie
was in his arms, and he was stroking her hair. She shifted closer to him, and he wrapped his arms more tightly around her.

“That feels nice,” a sleepy voice said.

He started awake. He was embracing Sophie, not Katie. Her eyes were still closed, and she had a small smile on her lips. He drew away carefully, and she adjusted in her sleep.

She was a pretty girl—and so different from Katie, but not in a bad way. He felt guilty for even having such thoughts. Katie was the only girl he’d ever dated, the girl he’d had a crush on since they were both in primary school. But right now, she seemed very far away. And Sophie … well, she was something. The way she’d saved him yesterday, pulling him up that tree. She exuded a sense of calm strength, iron at her core. He felt safe with her. It was strange and unsettling, but true. Being with her felt like home, even in this foreign place.

Sophie’s eyes opened. She covered her mouth as she yawned and blinked sleepily at him. “We still in the crazy house?” she whispered after a second.

“ ’Fraid so,” he said, resisting the urge to brush her cheek with his hand. “You sleep all right?”

“Really well,” she said, looking around. “I need to get me one of these ground mattresses.”

Declan repressed a chuckle. They were curled up on one side of the cave, with Nico and his dad at the other. The fire had gone out, so the only light came from the small hole in the ceiling. It was hard to tell what time they’d fallen asleep, but he felt well rested for the first time since arriving here.

“Now what?” she asked in a low voice.

“I don’t know.” After everything Bruder had told them last night, their original plan seemed like a bad idea. Was it really possible that most of the world’s population was gone, and that they’d only find similar devastation on the mainland? Bruder claimed to have made forays there over the years, encountering only a handful of survivors. More important, Katie was now in her mid-thirties, and he was still just a
kid. If she’d survived the thrinaxes and hadn’t been whisked off to some strange alternate dimension, that is.

Sophie must have been thinking along similar lines. In a low voice she asked, “Do you believe him?”

“Nico said his dad was quite a bit older, yeah?” he responded. “And it explains why everything is such a mess out there.”

“He’s got to be at least sixty,” Sophie agreed. “But then, we don’t know if Nico is telling the truth. Maybe his dad was old to start with.”

“I know. Odd thing to lie about though, yeah?”

“I suppose. But it’s all odd.”

They both fell silent. Declan realized that he couldn’t necessarily trust what any of the others had claimed about themselves. Except for Sophie, he amended—he could tell that she was honest to the core. But he’d been suspicious of Nico from the start.

Still, Bruder’s story explained a lot of things. And why would he and Nico have set all this up? The bit about the coma, and the lizard things … if this was a long con, they were certainly outdoing themselves for a bunch of penniless kids. Of every explanation they’d come up with so far, Bruder’s crazy ramblings made the most sense. And at least it meant they were still alive and not in purgatory. Which was kind of comforting. Plus he had a lovely girl in his arms, so all things considered, it could be worse. He looked into Sophie’s enormous eyes and asked, “What do you want to do?”

“We need to find the others,” Sophie said decisively. “We can decide together.”

“Grand. Hopefully they didn’t meet up with any of those tri-things.”

“Thrinaxes,” Sophie said.

“Right.” The whole concept made Declan’s head hurt.
Dinosaurs
, of all things.
Jaysus
.

“Maybe it can be fixed,” Sophie said quietly.

A twig or something was poking his side; Declan shifted off it, which moved him farther back from Sophie. She frowned slightly but didn’t say anything. “He said there was no way, remember? An infinite number of realities, and all that.”

“Right, but maybe’s he’s lying. Like you said, we don’t know if we can trust him.”

“True enough. But why would he want things to stay like this?”

“He has Nico now,” Sophie pointed out. “Alive, and not in a coma. Maybe he wouldn’t want to risk losing that.”

“Maybe,” Declan admitted. Everything Bruder had said last night was jumbled in his brain, something about spaghetti and strangelets. “So what are you proposing? We march him back to the lab and demand that he give it a whirl?”

“Maybe Nico can convince him,” Sophie said. “I’ll try to talk to him alone, see if I can get him to listen.”

Declan wasn’t thrilled by that idea. For one thing, he didn’t like the idea of Sophie owing Nico any favors. And the way Bruder kept eyeing Sophie was enough to make him want to punch the bastard.

But then, what was the alternative? For the two of them to set up camp in the woods, trying to live off roots and berries? He really didn’t want to spend the rest of his life holed up underground, trying not to be devoured by a dinosaur while mastering a dozen ways to prepare worms and acorns.

In truth, he hadn’t a clue what to do.

“You’re awake,” Bruder growled from across the room.

They both started. Sophie gave Declan a wary look, then they both sat up. Bruder hunched across from them, hands
crossed over his knees, eyes cloaked. He bent forward and lit one of the small homemade candles. The wick was nearly at the base; it guttered, sending a stream of oily black smoke upward.

“Looks like it’s morning,” Sophie said. “We should probably go find our friends and explain everything that’s happened to them.”

“I’m staying here,” Nico declared from the shadows. “With my dad.”

“Your choice, mate,” Declan said, secretly relieved. One problem solved.

“Do we need wood or anything?” Sophie said tentatively. “Maybe Nico and I could go gather it.”

“Don’t bother,” Bruder said airily. “There is more than enough for the two of us.”

“Water, then?”

“We’re fine,” Nico said with finality.

“All righty then.” Declan stood and clapped his hands together, ignoring the pointed looks Sophie was throwing his way. “Guess we’ll be off.”

“Tell Anat …” Nico paused, then said, “Just tell her that if she ever needs anything, she can come stay with us.”

Based on the few days they’d spent together, Declan knew that the chances of Anat admitting she needed anything from anyone was about as likely as him sprouting a pair of wings, but he nodded. “Sure, mate. See yas.”

“Hang on,” Sophie said, a slight edge of panic undercutting her voice. She turned to Bruder. “So that’s it, then? You’re just sending us out there on our own?”

Bruder shrugged, looking puzzled. “Would you like a whistle? I have an extra one.”