Strangelets Page 8

  She ran a hand through her wet hair, trying to untangle the snarls. She hadn’t been able to find a comb, even though the shower had soap and shampoo dispensers. Nasty, industrial-quality soap, but at least she’d been able to wash the grime out of the cuts on her hands and legs. She was exhausted, and her whole body ached; she felt like she’d run a marathon. Still, she found herself unable to sleep. Her head was spinning from everything that had happened, and her pulse rate had kicked up; she recognized the onset of a panic attack, and forced herself to calm down. Going over and over things in her mind would only make her crazy. She wouldn’t find anything else out tonight. Besides, she reminded herself, they’d been outside now. And weird though everything was, this was definitely the real world; no fire or brimstone anywhere. Long Island probably wouldn’t turn out to be purgatory, Sophie thought with bemusement. Tomorrow they’d get back in cell phone range and find out what was going on. There was probably a perfectly reasonable explanation. They’d all end up laughing about how paranoid they’d been.

  Right?

  Sophie couldn’t stop picturing that strange void, the swirl of colors reaching out for her. She wondered what had happened to her family—were they still standing around an empty bed in Palo Alto, wondering what the hell had happened to her? How had she ended up here?

  And since when were there bears on Long Island?

  On reflection, Sophie was happy that Declan and Anat had insisted on barricading the door. It had struck her as a silly precaution at the time. Now she was comforted by the fact that a few desks stood between her and whatever lurked in the darkness.

  She wished one of the others was still awake and willing to talk. But no one seemed to want to discuss the strangeness of their situation. As soon as they got back to the infirmary, they’d shuffled off to their separate bedrooms. Five minutes later, she’d heard Declan snoring next door.

  Meanwhile, her stomach was churning, and she kept tasting bile in the back of her throat. She hoped all that canned food they’d eaten was really okay. How ironic if she survived cancer, only to die of botulism poisoning …

  There was a quiet rap at her door—she’d left it open to prevent getting locked in. Sophie raised her head off the pillow and saw Yosh standing on the threshold looking uncertain.

  “Come on in,” Sophie said, keeping her voice low. She struggled with the bed’s controls, trying to adjust it. Frustrated, she finally gave up and pushed upright, wrapping her arms around the extra pillow.

  Yosh perched on the chair beside her bed. “I could not sleep,” she said in a small voice.

  “Me either,” Sophie said. “Anyone else awake?”

  Yosh shook her head. “I checked.”

  “Guess that makes us the sentries.”

  “Sentries?” Yosh looked puzzled.

  “Yeah, like … guards who keep watch. You know, the people who warn everyone else of danger.”

  “Were we supposed to be sentries?” Yosh asked, wide-eyed.

  “No. Although I’m kind of surprised Anat didn’t suggest it. Seems like the kind of thing she’d go for,” Sophie snorted. “Of course, a bear could come marching in here right now and there’s not much I could do about it.”

  “No, there’s not,” Yosh said gravely. “We would be eaten.”

  Sophie laughed, even though Yosh hadn’t sounded like she was kidding. “Yup. Although considering how I feel right now, I doubt we’d taste very good. I kind of pity the bear that would have to experience those chickpeas secondhand.”

  Yosh made a strange sound. She held a hand in front of her mouth. It took a second for Sophie to realize she was giggling.

  “Seriously,” Sophie said. “I’m totally nauseous. Aren’t you?” But despite her stomachache, she started cracking up too. The two of them laughed for a full minute. “You were brave, going in after the rest of the food,” she finally managed to say as she wiped away stray tears.

  “But you hated the food.” Yosh doubled over again.

  “Oh, God, stop. I’m seriously close to puking,” Sophie finally gasped.

  “Sorry. Going in was not so bad. Just a smell.” Yosh hesitated, then continued. “There should not have been so many bad cans, though.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Almost all of them were broken. Bent,” Yosh said. “Even the ones on the shelves. And the food in the refrigerator—it was very old.”

  “So maybe we were all knocked out by … whatever happened,” Sophie ventured.

  “Yes, but for how long? I checked the dates on the cans. They should still have been good for a long time.” Yosh pulled the chair closer to the bed and said, “Declan said you were sick. With cancer.”

  That was annoying; she hadn’t exactly wanted her illness to be public information. Thanks a lot, Declan, she thought as she answered, “I was dying.”

  “And you woke up here?”

  “Unfortunately, yes,” Sophie said. “Why?”

  Yosh didn’t respond immediately. Finally, she said, “What Declan said, about purgatory. This is a real place?”

  “Ah …” Sophie wasn’t sure what to say. She was pretty sure the Japanese practiced some form of Buddhism, but didn’t know if there were any parallels between that and Christianity. Too bad Yosh didn’t want to know about near death experiences, Sophie thought wryly. Those she could have gone on about all night. “Some people believe in it.”

  “Not you?”

  “No. Not me,” Sophie had very clear opinions about heaven and hell, in that she didn’t believe in either of them.

  “But what happens in purgatory?”

  Sophie squirmed, fervently wishing that one of the others, preferably Declan, would wake up and join them. She was way out of her element in this conversation, yet felt obligated to answer. There was an urgency underlying Yosh’s words. If possible, Sophie wanted to put her mind at ease so that at least one of them had a shot at sleeping. She dug through her memory banks, trying to recall decade-old Sunday school lessons. “Declan would know better than me, but I think it’s a place where people’s souls get … stuck.”

  “Stuck like glue?”

  “Kind of. Stuck, in that they’re not in heaven or hell. They’re somewhere in the middle.”

  “And what unsticks them?” Yosh’s eyes were shaded by her bangs, making them hard to read.

  “I don’t know,” Sophie said. “But honestly, Yosh, I don’t think this is purgatory.”

  “What is this place, then?”

  “Long Island, according to Nico,” Sophie said dryly.

  “I don’t think so,” Yosh said quietly. “This is a bad place. A very bad place.”

  “Yeah?” Sophie said. Yosh’s eyes were anxious. Still, she was talking; that was an improvement. “Can I ask you something, Yosh?”

  Yosh inclined her head slightly but didn’t respond.

  “That boy, Zain. Did he … leave you, once you got up there?” Sophie asked hesitantly.

  Yosh’s face crumpled as she whispered, “Zain.”

  “Yes, Zain,” Sophie said. The color had drained from Yosh’s cheeks, but Sophie pressed forward anyway. “The thing is, if he’s out there somewhere, hurt or something, we should go help him.”

  Yosh was already shaking her head. “He is gone.”

  “Gone where?”

  “Just gone.” Yosh lowered her eyes. “He will not come back.”

  “Okay.” Sophie fought the urge to push harder. She got the sense that if she did, Yosh might go full-on catatonic again, and frankly she didn’t have the energy to deal with that. She tried to sound reassuring as she continued, “Maybe you can explain it to me tomorrow. Right now I think we should try to get some sleep.”

  Yosh nodded and stood. “Good night, Sophie.”

  “Night.”

  Yosh paused on the threshold and turned back. “Sophie?”

  “Yes?”

  “We’re already dead.”

  “What?” Sophie said, startled. “No, really, we’re—”<
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  “It does not matter. I will be the sentries. You sleep.”

  Before Sophie could respond, Yosh slipped into the corridor and disappeared. Her words hung in the stillness, a presence that seemed to suck all the air out of the room. Shaken, Sophie dropped back against the pillow and gazed up at the ceiling. She had a feeling that she wouldn’t be sleeping at all.

  The next day, Anat scanned the forest warily as she followed the other four kids away from the infirmary. It was hard to tell if they’d even left the grounds of the facility yet; the surrounding woods were so thick, they could be steps away from a building and not see it. Funny, she wouldn’t have expected America to be this overgrown. And so green—it was like a jungle, all towering trees and dangling vines. She could easily have believed they were wending through the Amazon.

  It was hot, too. She wiped sweat off her forehead with the back of her arm. A different kind of heat than she was used to: the air so thick and humid it was suffocating. She thought longingly of Tel Aviv, where even on the hottest days a cool breeze eased off the ocean. Even the training facility hadn’t felt this hot, though it was stuck in the middle of the desert. And she hadn’t had to worry about nasty blood-sucking insects there, either. She irritably smacked one dead on her arm.

  “How much farther?” Sophie called out. The American was stumbling, feet crossing over each other. She appeared on the verge of collapse, even though they’d only gone a kilometer at most.

  Nico said, “Maybe five miles. We’ll be in cell phone range sooner, hopefully.”

  Sophie didn’t say anything, although a shadow swept across her features. Declan murmured something in her ear and tucked an arm around her waist. They lurched along again.

  Anat repressed the urge to groan. Five miles would take an eternity with this group. They hadn’t even left the infirmary until late morning. She’d hovered impatiently as the others lingered over breakfast, chewing the canned food with what seemed to be deliberate slowness and an excessive amount of complaints. Anat wolfed down her chickpeas and peaches, barely tasting them. It was fuel, and would provide energy to reach their destination. That was all she cared about.

  They’d wasted even more time arguing about whether to try and take a car. Declan claimed he could get one started, and pointed out they were unlikely to be prosecuted for auto theft. But it turned out to be a moot point. All the cars outside the infirmary rested on rims, no air in their tires. Plus, maneuvering one through the jagged, upheaved pavement to the street would be virtually impossible.

  At Anat’s urging they’d spent another hour cobbling together a shabby assortment of weapons. Anat found a long iron rod. Nico and Declan had pried steel bedrails loose from their frames. Even Yosh was clutching a towel rack from one of the bathrooms. Only Sophie remained unarmed, declaring herself too weak to manage.

  Weak is right, Anat couldn’t help but think. Granted, the girl had been ill; her exhaustion was understandable. Anat knew she should be more sympathetic, but it was hard to repress frustration. She didn’t want to spend the night in these woods. Agitated, she stripped off her long-sleeved shirt and tied it around her waist. She sensed Nico’s eyes trailing over her tank top and raised an eyebrow at him. He quickly turned away.

  Since Nico knew the route to town, he stayed at the head of their column. Anat had volunteered to cover their rear flank, and was consequently forced to shuffle along with Sophie. Every time the girl stumbled, Anat gritted her teeth and helped her back up.

  We should have left her, she thought for the millionth time. Sophie had even offered to stay, claiming she’d rest up in the infirmary while waiting for them to send help. But Declan wouldn’t hear of it. After their encounter with the bear the night before, he was keen on keeping them together.

  And he was right, Anat grudgingly acknowledged. Annoying as Sophie was, even Anat wouldn’t have felt right about abandoning her. They’d call Nico’s dad as soon as they were in mobile range, and he’d arrange for help. After that, they could all go their separate ways.

  Unfortunately, no matter how far they trudged, the phones refused to cooperate.

  Once again, Anat watched Nico dig his out and lift it toward the sky. He frowned and shook his head, then tucked it away. He and Declan had been checking every few minutes, but neither had gotten any signal bars yet. She’d left her iPhone back home, concerned about the potential for tracking. Now she was wishing she’d taken the chance—she’d give anything to be able to call home. Or better yet, to be able to sneak a glance at her photos of Hazim.

  Without warning, they emerged on a road. Two lanes separated by a faded yellow dividing line, in markedly better shape than the parking lots.

  “Which way?” Declan asked.

  Nico looked relieved as he pointed left. “West. This is Upton Road. It should lead us straight there.”

  Despite having to skirt a few giant potholes, the road was much less challenging than picking their way through the forest. Anat sighed with relief as their pace picked up. Maybe they’d make it to town by lunchtime after all.

  Cars were scattered about in odd clusters, as if the drivers had pulled up to each others’ windows for a chat. They appeared long abandoned: uniformly rusty, with flat tires and a thick film of dust coating the windows. Anat peered inside each as they passed. All empty: no bodies inside, which was a relief. There also wasn’t any evidence of a mass evacuation; the cars weren’t packed with suitcases and camping equipment. Just discarded food wrappers, a gym bag, a stuffed dog gazing forlornly out the rear window. But why had the cars been left here? In the aftermath of any natural disaster, clearing the roads was a priority.

  Of course, this was America and not Israel; maybe emergency policies were different here. The American girl might know, and Anat had almost asked her a few times. But Sophie wore a tight, drawn look, as if just putting one foot in front of the other required enormous concentration. So Anat kept pace silently, puzzling it over as she fought a growing sense of apprehension. All of this was very wrong. The cars shouldn’t look so decrepit—they made the worst junkyard salvage in Tel Aviv look like a Rolls-Royce, and that was saying something. Everything they encountered exuded an air of disuse and abandonment, from the buildings to the cars to the roads. Could a hurricane or earthquake do that? And so quickly?

  Worse yet was the silence. They were on Long Island, close to the greatest concentration of population in the United States. Yet there wasn’t so much as the sound of a car radio in the distance, or far-off construction.

  Declan touched her elbow, shaking her out of the reverie. “I’m going to check on something with Nico,” he said in a low voice. Indicating Sophie with a tilt of his head, he said, “Keep an eye on her?”

  “Of course,” Anat said stiffly. “Tell Nico we need to pick up the pace.”

  “Not sure that’s possible.” Declan glanced at Sophie, who was slumped against one of the cars, her head bowed, arms crossed in front of her chest. They’d found a thin pair of scrubs back at the infirmary, which she’d immediately changed into. She was still barefoot, though, and rested gingerly on the outsides of her feet. “I was actually going to ask about stopping for lunch. She’s really suffering over there.”

  Anat grunted. “She’ll suffer less once we get there.”

  “Says the girl all kitted out for this stroll,” he said, looking pointedly at her boots. “Sophie’s feet are shredded to hell, and she hasn’t walked in weeks. Have a little heart.”

  “So we find her some shoes.”

  “I’ve checked every car we’ve passed,” he said. “None yet.”

  Anat scowled. “Fine.”

  She marched to Sophie and perched on the car’s bumper. Bending over, she started untying her laces.

  “What are you doing?” Sophie asked.

  “Giving you my boots.”

  “But—”

  “They’ll be too large,” Anat said. “But they are better than nothing. I will keep the socks to protect my feet.”

&nbs
p; “You’re sure?” Sophie asked dubiously.

  “I have tough feet,” Anat said.

  “Tough everything, more like,” Declan said, but he was grinning.

  Sophie sat down beside her and pulled the boots on. Standing, she sighed heavily and said, “God, that’s so much better.”

  “Now, please—move faster.”

  “Yes, sir,” Declan said with a mock salute.

  “And lose the attitude,” Anat said, jabbing a finger into his chest. “I am not appreciating it.”

  “Thank you, Anat.” Sophie smiled at her, then started walking again. Declan fell in step behind her. Anat followed, trying to ignore the pricks and jabs of rough gravel through her thick socks. She’d suffered worse before.

  Nico and Yosh had stopped, but Anat waved for them to continue. They stretched out in a ragged line, weaving from one side of the road to the other to avoid obstacles. She frowned. They shouldn’t be so spread out, better to keep a tight formation in case a threat materialized. Her field commander would never have stood for such sloppiness. She had to bite her lip to keep from castigating them. After all, they were just a group of frightened kids; and they were moving, albeit slowly. Plus, so far they hadn’t seen any sign of bears or anything else.

  Suddenly, Nico stopped and pointed. Anat trotted to catch up. Her heart skipped a beat when she followed his gaze.

  It was a house, set back from the road. The grass in front was tall and overgrown, and weeds choked the driveway. Still, it was the first they’d come across. Maybe someone would be home. Or if not, at least there might be a functioning telephone.

  “No car in the driveway,” Declan noted. “Maybe no one’s there.”

  “Let’s find out,” Anat said, marching toward the front door.

  They followed her down a flagstone path. It was bumpier than it should have been, with rocks protruding at ankle-twisting angles, but still navigable.

  Anat climbed the stairs to a wraparound veranda and knocked on the front door. The porch floorboards were weathered, long strips of gray paint peeling off like shedding skin. The house appeared just as forsaken as everything else.