Strangelets (29 page)

A small seed of hope sprouted again. They could build some sort of life here.

As she was thinking it, Yosh flicked a hand in their direction.

“Kill them.”

“Wait, what?” Declan protested
. He struggled to his feet. Yosh was already descending the stairs from the catwalk. The people who had been standing against the walls started drifting toward the center of the room to meet her.

“I’m doing you a favor,” Yosh called back over her shoulder. “Trust me, you wouldn’t last long out there. This way, at least you’ll be of some value to us.”

“As what, food?” Sophie cried. Her small hand gripped his elbow, although he wasn’t sure whether that was to steady him or to support herself.

“Yes,” Yosh replied curtly. “The cynogs are hungry.”

“You can’t do this!” Sophie shouted. “Yosh, please!”

But Yosh acted as if she didn’t hear them, walking purposefully toward the rest of her people.

Anat made a noise somewhere between a growl and a
curse. The two thrinaxes were advancing slowly. The buzzing and clicking sounds had started up again, much louder this time.

Sophie said in a low voice, “Declan, I’m sorry.”

“Sorry for what?” he asked, puzzled, turning toward her. Sophie had a strange expression on her face, and her eyes glistened with tears. She leaned forward and pressed her lips to his. His hand instinctively went to the back of her head, but before he could really kiss her back she’d already drawn away. She ran a hand lightly over his cheek and said, “I’ll miss you.”

“You’ll what?” Declan chanced a glance back over his shoulder. The thrinaxes were just a few feet away. He swallowed hard. Odd that just a few days ago, he’d been afraid of being shot by a Russian. He’d take that over this fate any day of the week. “Sophie, wait—”

But she’d already slipped away.

Anat bit her lip
, wishing she still had the Glock. The creatures were advancing. They’d be on her in seconds. Well, she wasn’t going down without a fight. She clamped down hard on the pieces of metal she held in each hand, feeling them pinch her skin as she debated where to aim. The creatures had thick plates covering most of their bodies. But the bridge of the nose, between the eyes … that was where Yosh touched them. So there were probably unprotected nerve endings there. She drew a deep breath, gathering herself.

Without warning, she released the first throwing star. It caught the creature on the right squarely between the eyes. Its shrieks echoed off the walls as it fumbled for the chunk of metal embedded in its snout. Shouting from down below, and the sound of people running toward them, Anat released
the other star. The hit wasn’t quite as accurate, but it lodged in the other thrinax’s eye.

“Come on!” she yelled to the others.

Declan had frozen, jaw agape as he stared at the injured creatures. Sophie was racing in the wrong direction, headed back toward the machines. Anat snarled with frustration. Did she really have to do everything? “We need to go now!”

Neither of them responded. In fact, Declan headed the other way too, yelling something as he ran.
What were they doing?
This was their only chance to escape, and they were squandering it. The creatures had dropped to the ground and were clawing at their snouts, mewling pitiably. Footsteps raced up the metal stairs, heading straight for them.

She’d done all she could. Sophie and Declan were on their own. Anat spun and tore back down the hallway.

“What are you doing!”
Declan yelled in Sophie’s ear. “Anat hurt them! We need to go!”

She forced herself to tune him out as she focused on the panel in front of her. There wasn’t time to explain. She’d had a moment of clarity as the creatures advanced, the sudden realization that only one option remained. They knew exactly how they’d die if they stayed here. But she could give them one last shot at life.

One large, red switch stood out from the rest—she recalled that Bruder had taken care not to touch it when he was fiddling with the controls. Maybe that didn’t mean anything, but it was all she had to go on.

Drawing a deep breath, Sophie flicked the switch.

Nothing happened for a few seconds. Then a low hum started. Sophie could feel the pulse of it deep in her bones,
riding through the metal of the catwalk beneath her feet. It slowly and steadily grew louder, until it sounded like a wind turbine spinning faster and faster …

“Jaysus,” Delcan said, his eyes wide with shock. “What did you do?”

“It’s our only chance,” she said breathlessly. “Maybe this way you’ll get to see your mom and Katie again.”

“But Bruder hadn’t finished setting it up.”

“I know.” Sophie bit her lip. “Better to go out with a bang than a whimper, right?”

Declan stared at her for a second, then he grabbed her hands and peered intently into her eyes. “You’re bloody nutters, you know that?”

Sophie managed a weak laugh. “Yeah, I know. With our luck, we’ll end up on the moon or something.”

“Or something,” he agreed.

The thrumming noise grew louder. Pressure mounted in Sophie’s eardrums until it felt like they were about to pop. The room suddenly seemed to expand and contract, as if it was taking a giant breath. Sophie gasped, remembering how it had been the first time. Suddenly seized by panic, she squeezed Declan’s hands hard and said. “If we don’t make it—”

“It’ll be okay,” he said reassuringly, squeezing back. “Either way, this beats getting eaten.”

“But if we don’t …” She leaned in and pressed her mouth to his again.

His lips were warm and solid and reassuring. It was an amazing kiss, filled with frustration and longing and apology and sorrow. Sophie pulled back slightly to catch her breath. Before she could kiss him again, there was a large thwacking sound, like a rubber band being snapped, and the floor abruptly vanished beneath her feet.

Anat stumbled and fell
. But instead of landing on rough concrete, her fingernails dug into loamy soil. Confused, she jerked her head up.

She was outside. Nighttime. The air smelled oddly familiar. She blinked, trying to orient herself. Spun in a slow circle. Her eyes alit on the nearest building, and she suddenly realized where she was …

Training camp. She was on the hill above it, looking down at the low-slung barracks at the rear of the compound.
But how?
She thought over the past few minutes, Sophie rushing over to the machine … she must have started it. It must have worked!

Anat felt a surge of elation. She wanted to laugh and cry and start screaming, all at the same time. Something struck her, and she dug in her pocket, hoping to find her cell phone. It was there! She took a deep breath and said a silent prayer before clicking the screen.

It read
August 31
^st
. Hot tears pressed against her eyelids. Anat pressed the phone to her lips and kissed the screen.

“Put that away!” a voice hissed behind her.

Startled, Anat nearly dropped the phone. She spun around. It took her eyes a second to adjust from the screen’s glare. A figure was crouched behind a low stone wall a few meters away.

Night exercises
, Anat suddenly realized as she felt the familiar weight of a Tavor rifle slung across her shoulder. She must still be in training. Obediently, she put the cell phone away and crept toward her squad mate. It was Lev, the leader of her unit. He frowned at her, his face tight beneath night vision goggles. “What were you thinking?”

“Sorry,” she said in a whisper. “I … got distracted.” It was such a relief to be speaking Hebrew again. Her eyes still smarted; forcefully, she blinked back the tears. “What are we doing?”

Lev yanked up the goggles and glared at her. “Get your head out of your ass, Erez,” he snapped. “You’ve been briefed.”

Anat swallowed hard. She’d just have to play along until she figured out what was going on. Something was off, she could tell. She’d already finished her training, she wasn’t even supposed to be here on August thirty-first.
Hazim
, she thought suddenly;
where is he
? Why wasn’t she at the hotel in Egypt with him?

She fought back a momentary twinge of panic. It would be okay. She was home now, and as soon as they finished whatever bullshit maneuver this turned out to be, she could call him. They’d be together soon enough.

Drawing a deep breath, she hunkered down beside Lev. He’d pulled his night vision goggles back on. She felt for hers; they were seated across the front of her helmet. She drew them down over her eyes, and the world suddenly sprang into relief, varying shades of green and black.

“There!” Lev whispered, exhilaration in his voice.

Anat followed his pointing finger and frowned. A few hundred meters away, a couple of figures were moving stealthily toward the training facility. But they didn’t seem to be wearing military gear.

Lev muttered something disparaging about Arabs and waved for her to follow. Anat trailed at his heels, trying to process what was happening. Was this not an exercise?

The two figures they’d been tracking hunched down behind a bush. They were talking in low voices, the tones sharper than Hebrew.
Arabic
, Anat realized. She watched through the goggles as they struggled with something large. When they reached a point a half-dozen meters away, she suddenly recognized it: a mortar launcher.
What the hell?
she thought. How could their enemies have infiltrated so close to camp? It was unheard of.

“Stop!” Lev yelled, suddenly straightening and leveling his rifle at them.

The two figures froze, then broke into a run, tearing toward the trees on their right. Lev tracked one with his rifle. A loud
crack!
and the figure dropped to the ground.

“
Kus emek
,” Anat breathed.

They’d always shot blanks during training, but that had sounded like a live round. Which meant that whatever was happening was real.

The thought had barely registered when she was suddenly shoved hard. She landed on her back, a sharp rock gouging her left shoulder blade. Anat yelped, struggling to get a grip on her rifle, but whoever had jumped her was fighting for control of it. It was a man, about her size, but fortunately not very strong. The two of them gasped and panted. Anat drew her knee up hard and felt it connect. The guy yelped but continued struggling.

A
crack!
and he suddenly went limp, dropping on top of her. Anat shoved him away, fighting against the dead weight. Lev grinned down at her as he flipped his Tavor back around; the stock was smeared with fresh blood from clubbing the guy over the head.

“New boyfriend, Erez?” he teased.

“Help me up,” she muttered

The Arab was unconscious, but that probably wouldn’t last long. She cocked her rifle; the temptation to pull the trigger was almost overwhelming. Her whole back felt bruised and sore. She’d barely been back five minutes, and already she’d sustained more abuse than in three days on Long Island with man-eating monsters.

“Don’t shoot him,” Lev warned, laying a restraining hand on the barrel of her gun. “We need to find out what the bastard knows.”

“Right.” Anat steadied her breathing. She kept sighting along the rifle just in case; there was no way she’d be taken by surprise again.

“Shall we get a look at our new friend?” Lev drew out his Maglite.

Anat kicked the guy’s shoulder so that he rolled onto his back. Lev shone the flashlight beam down on his face.

Anat gasped and staggered back. The Tavor dropped from her hands, dangling from her shoulder strap.

“You okay?” Lev asked with concern.

Anat couldn’t answer. She stared down at the terrorist who had been mounting an attack on their compound.

It was Hazim.

Her eyes immediately darted to his right hand, which had fallen limply across his chest. She blinked back tears, then knelt for a closer look.

“What is it?” Lev asked.

Anat choked back a sob. His finger was bare—Hazim wasn’t wearing the ring she’d given him. Her mind spun as she considered what that meant. “It’s August thirty-first,” she said in a low voice.

“Erez, did you hit your head when you fell?”

Lev moved toward her, but she shied back. “I’m not even supposed to be here,” she said, feeling dazed. “Why am I here?”

“Let’s get you to the medics,” Lev said firmly.

Anat ignored him, sinking to her heels and setting her head in her hands while she tried to work through what was happening. She was home, back the same day she’d left. But she wasn’t supposed to be
here
. She was supposed to be with her family in Tel Aviv on August thirty-first, on her final leave before reporting for duty. Which meant something had changed. And if she was somewhere different …

Then maybe this was a different Hazim, too.

“Declan! Supper won’t keep
all night!”

Declan blinked a few times, disoriented. “Sophie?” he said tentatively. He could still feel the pressure of her hands in his, the warmth of her lips …

No
, he realized. He was sitting alone in his bedroom. The Clash and The Fratellis posters on the walls, clothes strewn about the floor, and the smell of his mum’s roast drifting up the stairs. Declan jumped up and ran a hand through his hair. They’d done it. They’d bloody done it! They weren’t going to be eaten by giant lizard creatures, or forced to spend the rest of their lives in a hole in the ground. He let out a whoop of elation.