Free Strangelets by Michelle Gagnon Page A

in the morning.”
    “Who made you leader?” Nico protested.
    Sophie pursed her lips. Apparently the meal had restored some of his swagger.
    “I can walk miles in the dark,” Anat said, tossing her hair. “I’ve done all night marches.”
    “Yes, please, tell us more about your extensive military training,” Declan muttered. “Apparently it didn’t include grabbing an opener when there are cans about.”
    “You wouldn’t even go back in there,” Nico scoffed. Turning to Anat, he said, “I’ll go with you.”
    “Good,” she said. “We’ll make better time on our own anyway.”
    “Hang on,” Declan protested. “We need to stick together. We don’t know what’s going on yet. And if you leave us, we’re bolloxed. You’re the only one who even knows where the hell we are.”
    “Declan’s right,” Sophie said. The prospect of separating made her feel panicky; she’d seen enough horror movies to know that nothing good ever came of splitting up. And Declan was right, without Nico the rest of them would be totally clueless. At least he knew the area. “We should stay together. Even if only for the night.”
    Anat and Nico exchanged a look. Whatever was going on between them, they were clearly not sold on the togetherness idea. But then Anat glanced at Yosh, and Sophie could see her waffling. “There’s that weird animal track, too,” she reminded them. “Something big made that. And we don’t have any weapons.”
    “That is true,” Anat said slowly.
    Nico shuffled his feet, looking unhappy. “So, what? We stay?”
    “We stay,” Anat stated. “But just until dawn. Then we go into town. Is your phone working yet?”
    “None of them will work until you’re a mile away from the facility,” Nico said. “They block the towers as some sort of security measure.”
    “Lovely,” Declan said. “Is that why the time is wrong, too?”
    “What do you mean?” Nico asked.
    Declan held up an iPhone. “Says January 1, 2000.”
    “What?” Nico scoffed. “That can’t be right.” As he checked his own, his eyes narrowed. “Mine says the same.”
    Sophie was too exhausted to engage in a riveting conversation about time stamps on cell phones. All she wanted was to crawl back into bed and stay there, preferably until help arrived. “Vote, then? All in favor of heading back to the infirmary, raise your hand.”
    Declan lifted his. She and Yosh quickly followed suit. Aftera pause, Anat jutted hers up. Nico glowered at them all for a beat, then nodded curtly. “Fine,” he said. “Sunrise.”
    “Sure thing,” Declan said. “And with luck, by this time tomorrow we’ll all be headed home.”
    The return trip took longer than Anat had anticipated. Now they were burdened with large cans, and the lengthening shadows made picking their way through the forest difficult. During her mandatory military service, Anat had marched for kilometers across rough terrain. That hadn’t been the worst of it, though. She’d also been forced to carry an M16 everywhere, even to the bathroom; another recruit had forgotten theirs, and the entire unit was punished, forced to hold the rifles over their heads for nearly an hour. As her arms shook from the pain and stress, Anat knew she wasn’t the only one who would have preferred to turn the weapon on the imbecile who’d forgotten. He never did so again, though; a beat down after lights out made sure of that. In comparison, carrying a couple of cans through the woods was easy.
    The others were having a much harder time. Nico was doing all right, but everyone else kept stumbling and falling. They’d be covered in bumps and bruises by the time they got back. On her own, Anat could have made it to the infirmary in half the time. But instinct made her stay close. Even though she barely knew these kids, she was starting to feel responsible for them—Yosh in particular. Protecting the weak had been another major facet of her training; her responsibility to fellow citizens