Strangelets (9 page)

She’d be shed of them all by tomorrow anyway. Once they got within cell phone range, the others could contact their families. Shortly thereafter they’d be tucked away in their respective embassies, assisted with transportation home. But who could she call? If she contacted Hazim and tried to explain what had happened, he’d probably think she’d lost her mind, or worse, changed it. This entire situation had made joining him all but impossible; neither of them could afford a plane ticket to Egypt. And her parents would just try and compel her to return home. Plus Anat could imagine the skepticism with which the Israeli government would view her circumstances. They’d figure her for a deserter, maybe even throw her in prison. And then she’d have no hope of running away with Hazim.

Wrapped up in her thoughts, Anat tripped on a tree root and went flying. She landed hard on the can of peas clutched against her chest and grunted as the wind was knocked out of her.

“All right?” Nico asked.

“Fine,” Anat said, embarrassed. She scrambled to her feet, dusting off with her free hand. She’d have a nasty bruise on her belly tomorrow, and her toes throbbed where she’d stubbed them. Anat forced herself to focus solely on the trail, pushing all other thoughts from her mind. Declan was helping Sophie along, one arm braced around her back. Watching them brought another pang.

“What’s wrong?” Nico asked.

“Nothing,” she muttered. “Just thinking about something.”

“Something, or someone?”

She looked up at him. Nico was giving her a look she
recognized, the same one she’d been getting from men ever since she turned fifteen and developed breasts. “Yes,” she said. “I was thinking of my fiancé.”

“You’re engaged?” he asked, sounding surprised. “To whom?”

“A Palestinian named Hazim.” Saying his name out loud caused tears to well up in her eyes. Hastily, she wiped them away.

“Huh,” Nico said. “Did he give you that ring you always touch?”

Anat closed her hand into a fist self-consciously; she hadn’t realized she’d been doing that, and was shaken by the fact that he’d noticed. “Yes.” She hesitated, then added, “I gave him one, too.” She’d chosen the ring carefully, a simple interwoven band of gold and silver. It had reminded her of them, two very different people from opposing worlds, now wound together until you couldn’t tell where one ended and the next began.

“But you’re only eighteen, right?” Nico asked.

“So?”

“That seems young to be getting married.”

“My mother was married at sixteen,” Anat retorted. “Besides, we’re in love.”

“People usually don’t get married otherwise,” Nico said drily. “So why wasn’t he with you?”

Anat was reluctant to tell him too much; after all, she barely knew him. But she finally admitted, “We were running away together. My family would never have let me marry him. And I was about to be assigned to active military duty.”

Nico grunted.

“What?” she demanded.

“You must really love him,” he said, a trace of wistfulness in his voice. “You’d be in big trouble if you got caught, right?”

“Right,” she said.

“So, you decided to leave your home, and everything you knew. I can’t imagine doing that.”

They walked in silence for a moment. Anat unexpectedly found herself wrestling with a surge of emotions. The night she left, she’d mainly been excited about finally being with Hazim. She’d spent months dreaming about falling asleep with his arms around her. The fact that she’d never see her family again, or her friends; that she’d never sit on the beach watching the sunset, or have dinner under their orange trees in their backyard … that hadn’t really sunk in yet.

Until now.

“My family doesn’t even know about him,” Anat mumbled. “We met at a retreat a year ago.”

“I thought Israelis and Palestinians didn’t really mix.”

“That was the whole point. The retreat was all about discussing what our countries were doing to each other, and coming to some sort of understanding.”

“Sounds interesting,” Nico said.

Anat snorted. “It was a disaster. Everyone screamed at each other for three days straight. I finally went to a café just to get away from them all. Hazim was there, too. We started talking. And …” She took a deep breath. “Afterward, we kept in touch by cell phone.”

“How did you see each other?”

“We only managed once. Border crossings are too dangerous.” Anat flashed back on the afternoon they’d managed to share, just a few months ago. It was during one of her few leaves from training. She hadn’t gone home, hadn’t even informed
her family that she was free. As an art history major, Hazim had received a special pass to visit the Ashdod Museum of Art, ostensibly to research a paper. But instead, he’d spent the day with her. They’d sat in a café, hidden behind a tall plant in the corner, clasping hands beneath the table. That was when they’d exchanged rings, and made plans to escape together through Egypt.

“So you’ve only seen him once since you met?” Nico sounded dumbfounded.

“We talked on Skype,” Anat said defensively. “Besides, a year is nothing when you know you’re going to spend the rest of your lives together.” That was what Hazim always told her, what she knew to be true. And they’d been so close to making it happen.

“Well, maybe it wouldn’t have worked out anyway.”

“That’s supposed to make me feel better?” She glared at him. Nico was walking with his head down, focused on the rough path in front of them.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean any offense. But most marriages don’t work out these days.” A shadow flitted across his face. “I’m never getting married.”

The American girl suddenly hissed, “Did you hear that?”

“What?” Anat demanded.

Sophie had frozen in place. She was at the rear of the group, lagging behind. Her legs were covered in scrapes, testimonials to how many times she’d fallen.

“I heard a noise, like a branch snapping behind us.”

They all stopped. Anat strained her ears but couldn’t hear anything except the whisper of a breeze through the leaves overhead. Regardless, she sensed a presence behind them. She’d experienced something similar during training exercises; an atavistic awareness of being hunted.

“We need to move faster,” she said abruptly. “Nico, you lead. I’ll bring up the rear.”

“But—” Declan started to protest.

“It’s nearly dark,” Anat pointed out. “And we have a half kilometer to go.”

She exchanged a glance with Nico, who nodded curtly, apparently just as happy as she was to curtail their conversation.
He hadn’t meant anything by that marriage comment
, she reminded herself; his parents were probably divorced. It was natural that he’d have strong feelings about it. He just didn’t understand how she felt about Hazim. They were meant to be together, she’d known it the day they met.

Something about the way he carried himself echoed Hazim, though; he possessed the same easy confidence. Not that they looked anything alike. Nico was tall and broad-shouldered, muscular and fit. Handsome, although not really her type. Hazim was slim, with shoulder length dark hair and deep brown eyes—an artist, not a fighter. An inch shorter than her, though that had never really mattered.

Nico broke into a trot. Yosh hesitated, then scurried along behind him.

“Bloody hell. What is this, a marathon?” Declan grumbled.

“Big animal tracks,” Anat reminded him. “And no weapons.”

“I’d almost prefer to be eaten.”

“Then bring up the rear,” Anat said, narrowing her eyes.

He laughed, then tucked an arm around Sophie and said, “C’mon, bird. I’ll give you a hand.”

“This would be a lot easier if I had some shoes,” Sophie replied, wincing. She was the only one among them without a pair.

“We’ll check cars on our way out tomorrow, yeah?”
Declan soothed. “Probably find you a lovely pair of trainers. But for now, you can climb on my back if you want.”

Sophie snorted. “No thanks. I look ridiculous enough as it is.”

“True enough.” He winked. “Ready to move it along, then?”

“If you insist.” The American sighed, but her ears were flushed.

Anat raised an eyebrow. The two of them seemed to be getting along well. Interesting, since Declan had mentioned a girlfriend. Maybe that’s why he’d insisted on returning to the infirmary for the night. Well, most men weren’t as faithful as Hazim. Growing up with her father, she knew that well enough.
None of her business, anyway
, she reminded herself.

At least the two of them were moving faster now. Anat let them draw ahead, keeping her eyes peeled for something that could be used as a weapon. It didn’t take long—there were plenty of branches strewn about the ground. She selected one about a meter long, with some heft and a sharp point where it had split from the tree. She shifted the can of peas, cradling it in her left arm so that her right was free to wield the stick. Nico wove quickly through the trees, doing an admirable job of finding the clearest path. She caught herself watching the way his shirt fabric stretched across his back and frowned.
Not my type
, she reminded herself.
Focus
.

Anat kept her senses attuned to their rear flank. Unfortunately, the group was making so much noise it was hard to hear anything else. The sun sank below the horizon, leaving a seam of pale blue in the east. Night was coming.

“Faster!” she called out.

“Doing what I can, Captain,” Declan grumbled, but he yanked Sophie along at a trot.

The parking lot in front of the infirmary had just come into view when Anat heard the distinct
crack
of a branch breaking behind her.

She spun, scanning the forest. It was dark, impenetrable. But something was definitely there.

“What is it?” Nico called back.

“I’m not sure.” Anat stayed focused on the woods.

“Help, maybe?” Sophie suggested. “Other people?”

Anat hesitated. Her gut said no. A person wouldn’t have stalked them in silence. They would have shown themselves, or called out. Unless they weren’t friendly, in which case she’d almost prefer to run into an animal; at least it wouldn’t be armed.

Nico had stopped on the first jagged section of concrete. In a low voice he asked, “Should we wait to see what it is?”

“No. Better to meet it near the building.”

“You’re sure? What if it’s someone coming to help?”

“Then we’ll let them in. If not, we close the door.”

He nodded. “Good plan.”

Another
crack
, this time off to her left. The rest of them just stood there, staring helplessly into the forest. Angrily, she waved her arms at them and yelled, “Go!”

Nico broke into a run and started leaping from one concrete floe to the next. Anat dropped the can—she hated peas anyway. She gripped the stick with both hands as she swiftly moved backward, keeping her eyes on the forest the entire time. It was slow going, but she wasn’t about to turn her back on a threat. She could make out distinct footfalls now, the sound of something large forcing its way through the undergrowth.

Halfway across the parking lot, she finally caught a glimpse of their pursuer: Massive shoulders. Broad, furry snout. Ears flattened back against its head. Anat’s eyes widened. Even though she’d never seen one in person, she immediately recognized it. The bear growled at her, baring two rows of enormous jagged teeth.

She spun around, all thoughts of fighting gone as she screamed, “Run!”

Declan was helping Sophie
manage the last few yards to the door when Anat’s cry pierced the hot, stagnant air. He whipped around and spotted her bounding across the parking lot—paces ahead of an enormous, dark shape.

“Holy mother,” he said. “It’s a feckin’ bear!”

“Oh my God,” Sophie gasped.

Nico and Yosh had already reached the entrance. If he and Sophie ran, they’d be able to join them and bolt the door. But Anat …

The branch in her hands looked pitifully small. Even a gun probably wouldn’t bring down an animal that size, at least not with a single shot. As the bear charged, its mouth fell open, tongue lolling to the side. It was impossibly fast. There was no way she’d make it.

Declan shoved Sophie forward, yelling, “Get everyone inside and close the door!”

Heart pounding, he kept his eyes on Anat. She was fifteen feet away … then ten … the bear had narrowed the gap, she could probably feel its breath on the back of her neck.

“I said run, you idiot!” she screamed as she passed him.

“Bloody ungrateful,” Declan muttered. He hefted the garbanzo bean can up with both hands. Summoning all his strength, he heaved it.
Direct hit
—it smacked the bear
on the snout. The animal shook its head, but barely broke stride.

Not exactly the effect he’d been hoping for—and now the bear looked pissed to boot. Declan spun on his heels and raced toward the door. He quickly caught up with Anat, whose long legs chewed up the pavement.

“That was a bad plan,” Anat panted.

“Everyone’s a bloody critic. Apologies for trying to save your arse.”

“I don’t need your help,” she gasped.

“Right, you had that completely under control. You can thank me later, if …” The words died in his throat as he checked back over his shoulder. The bear was coming up fast, and they were still ten feet from the door. They weren’t going to make it.

Declan pictured it all with awful clarity: the giant paw slashing across his back, followed by teeth clamping down on his throat. Distracted by the image, he stumbled and went sprawling. He landed hard on his chest, getting a mouthful of dirt. In desperation he flung both arms over his head.

Nothing happened.

His breath came in hard, sharp pants.

Cautiously, Declan lowered his arms.

The bear was gone.

“What the hell?” He turned to check on Anat.

“It kept running that way.” She pointed past the building to where the woods continued.

“Away from us?” Declan said, perplexed. “Why?”

“I don’t know.” Anat shook her head. “It kept looking back, as if …”

“As if what?” he demanded when she didn’t continue.

“Like it was being chased.”