Partials

by Dan Wells

  The smoke was clearer now, a mere half mile away, rising up in a single windless pillar from a chimney in a small brick house. Jayden and Haru and Yoon all pulled out binoculars, and Gabe set up a watch in the hall behind them. Kira looked out the window—hundreds of houses and buildings, thousands of tiny black windows staring back like blind eyes. One of those eyes was looking for them—had it already seen them? Would they see it first? Which group of soldiers with binoculars would find the other, and what would happen then?

  They watched and waited. A pair of rats crept out from the wall and pulled their sparrow under the couch. Kira grew restless and explored the apartment: one skeleton on the living room couch, one on the kitchen floor, two in the back bedroom. Their arms were draped over each other in a final embrace. Kira closed the door gently and walked back to the living room.

  A radio crackled quietly. “Timmy calling Jimmy.” The voice was distorted enough by static that Kira couldn’t tell if it was Skinny or Scruffy.

  Haru put his radio to his mouth. “This is Jimmy. Sitrep.”

  “I’ve got eyes on Holly, and I don’t see anything. You want me to get closer?”

  “Negative, Timmy. Maintain your position.”

  “Copy,” said the voice on the radio. “No sign of Fred or Ethel, but Holly does appear to be inhabited: paths to the doorway, that kind of thing. Whoever’s there has been there for a while.”

  “Copy, Timmy. Let me know if anything changes.” Haru set down the radio and rubbed his eyes. “We’d better see something soon. I really don’t want to sleep in this apartment.”

  Kira opened the cupboards, looking for canned food. She’d worked enough salvage runs that the habit was ingrained. “Jimmy and Timmy, huh? You guys have the manliest call signs ever.”

  “That’s nothing,” said Haru. “The other one is Kimmy.”

  As if on cue, the radio crackled softly. Kira pulled a trio of canned vegetables down from a cupboard over the fridge, and Haru picked up the phone.

  “Kimmy calling Jimmy.”

  “This is Jimmy. Sitrep.”

  “The report from Timmy was false, repeat false. Fred is at Holly, I have them in my sights right now. Timmy is compromised.”

  “Radio silence,” said Haru immediately, and set down the radio. “Bloody hell.”

  Jayden turned from the window, his brow furrowed in sudden worry. “That’s not good.”

  Haru hit the table. “We do not have time for this!” He hit the table again.

  Kira frowned. “They got… Timmy? Which one is he?”

  “Steve,” said Yoon.

  “Skinny or Scruffy?”

  Yoon hesitated a moment. “Skinny.”

  Kira swore. “You think he’s dead?”

  “We don’t know that it’s him,” said Jayden. “The second call might have been a warning that the first was fake, but it’s just as likely that the second was fake, trying to confuse us.”

  “If the second was fake,” said Kira, “wouldn’t the first have called us back to let us know?”

  “I turned it off,” said Haru. “If one of the scouts is compromised, they’ve already got the drop on us. The only reason to give up that info is to figure out where we are. They might have already traced the signal—I don’t know what kind of tech they have.”

  “But both messages knew our code words,” said Kira. “There’s got to be some way that both scouts are still safe. Maybe they just didn’t see the same thing—maybe they were looking at two different buildings.”

  “No.” Haru shook his head. “They’ve worked together too long—they wouldn’t accuse each other that plainly if they weren’t completely sure. If the first call was real, the second can’t be, and if the second call was real, obviously we have to believe that the first was lying.”

  “They couldn’t have tortured anyone that fast,” said Jayden, standing slowly. “There’s no way they could have gotten the code words unless…” He paused. “What about… It couldn’t be, that’s insane.”

  “What are you talking about?” asked Haru.

  “It’s nothing,” said Jayden. “I’m just being paranoid.”

  “That’s a pretty healthy thing to be right now,” said Kira.

  Jayden swallowed, glanced at Haru, then looked back at Kira. “What if one of the scouts is a Partial?”

  “That’s not even—” said Kira, but stopped midsentence. She was about to say it wasn’t possible, but what if it was?

  “That’s ridiculous,” said Haru. “I’ve known both Nick and Steve for years.”

  “Since before the Break?” asked Jayden.

  “Well, no,” said Haru, “but still. There’s no way.”

  “They look exactly like us,” said Jayden. “Who’s to say some of them haven’t been living among us this whole time?”

  Kira leaned back against the wall, her legs weak, feeling the sudden need for support. The ramifications were terrifying, but the logic … didn’t hold up. “Why now?” she asked. “If they wanted us dead, they could have done it at any time—what do they gain by betraying us here, in the middle of nowhere?”

  “I don’t know,” said Jayden harshly. “I’m just thinking out loud.”

  “Everybody calm down,” said Haru. “They’re not Partials.”

  “Voice, then,” said Jayden. “They could be using a traitor in our own ranks to sabotage the mission.”

  “I vouched for both of them!” whispered Haru.

  “That’s exactly what I’m saying,” said Jayden, and Kira saw that his hand was creeping near his pistol. She pressed herself back against the counter, caught between the two soldiers. Out in the hallway, Gabe turned to watch the exchange with a look of angry shock.

  Haru saw the position of Jayden’s hand, caught the tone of his voice, and stiffened immediately. “You bastard—”

  “Wait,” said Kira, “we don’t have time for this—if one of us were a traitor, he could have betrayed everyone a lot more effectively a long time ago.” She took a deep breath and stepped forward, blocking the line of fire between them. “There is a real enemy out there, whatever they end up being, and they know where we are. If one of the scouts was compromised, through torture or whatever else, he may have already told them we’re in one of these apartment buildings—the only thing he didn’t know was which one. That means they’re closer than we think—”

  Kira stopped and turned toward the hallway. Was that…? She thought she’d heard something, but it was gone now. She made a move toward her gun.

  A loud shot echoed through the hallway, and Gabe dropped like a side of beef. Kira yelped, staring at Gabe’s fallen body in shock. Haru ran toward the door, stopping a few feet back to examine the body. He turned back and mimed with his hands: a explosion pointing one way, a gun, and then a strong point back in the other direction. The blood sprayed toward the left, Kira translated, which means the shooter was standing to the right. Haru pulled a grenade from his belt, pulled the pin, and tossed it toward the right. The building shook when it exploded, knocking dust from the walls.

  “That’ll buy us some time,” he grunted, and picked up his rifle.

  Kira fought to regain her composure, trying to force herself to react, and finally ran forward. Haru tried to pull her back, but she strained against him.

  “I have to help him.”

  “He’s dead.”

  Kira struggled to pull away. “I’m a medic, I can help him!”

  “He’s dead, Kira,” said Haru fiercely. He whispered sharply in her ear, keeping his voice low while his hands held her back like iron bands. “Gabe’s been shot and killed, and whoever shot him is still in that hallway, and the next person to stick her head out there is going to die with him.”

  “You have to let me help him!”

  “There’s nothing you can do for him,” said Jayden softly. “Right now we’ve got to figure out how to survive the next five minutes.”

  Kira looked up and saw both Jayden and Yoon down on one knee, tuck
ed into the corners of the room, rifles trained on the doorway. Of course, she thought, slowly regaining her composure, the Partials took out Gabe because they’re coming for us next. She stopped pushing toward the door, and Haru slowly released her and raised his rifle, falling back into the cover of the hallway. She followed him, keeping her rifle up and her eyes trained on the open door.

  “How much time do we have?”

  “No idea,” said Jayden, crossing to their hallway while Kira and Haru covered the door. Yoon followed. “Haru got that grenade out there pretty quick; they’re going to be a little reticent to charge in.”

  “Which is the only reason we’re still alive,” said Yoon. “If this turns into a straight-up fight, we lose.”

  “There are no other exits,” said Haru. “This is going to turn into a straight-up fight sooner or later.”

  “We could go out the window,” said Yoon, “maybe get behind them.”

  “That’s too exposed,” said Jayden, “not to mention five floors up.”

  Kira cocked her head, listening. “They’re coming again. Do you have any more grenades?”

  Jayden frowned. “You can hear them?”

  “You can’t?”

  Jayden shook his head, primed a grenade, and tossed it out the doorway blindly, past Gabe’s motionless body and off to the right toward the Partials. The building shook, and Kira put a hand on the wall for stability.

  “Couple more of those and there won’t even be a floor for them to walk on,” said Haru.

  Jayden grinned and pulled out another grenade. “Not a bad idea.”

  “Wait,” said Kira quickly, grabbing his arm. “Take out the hallway and all you do is postpone the attack.”

  “I know,” said Jayden. “That’s kind of the point.”

  She lowered her voice to the softest whisper she could make. “Do you have any other explosives?”

  Jayden looked at her quizzically, and Haru stepped closer to listen. Yoon kept her gun on the doorway.

  “Do you have any other explosives?” Kira repeated, as softly as she could.

  Haru patted his backpack and whispered back. “C4.”

  Kira nodded. “If we take out the hallway, we’ll still get attacked, but we won’t know when or where it’ll come from. But if we take out this living room, while the Partials are in it and we’re not, we neutralize the threat.”

  “That could work,” said Haru, “and honestly it might be our only chance against them, but this old building might not take it—it’s mostly unreinforced masonry. Anything big enough to take out a team of Partials could take the whole building with them, or at least a few floors.”

  “A hole in the floor is a viable escape route,” said Kira, “if we survive. It’s that or a firefight, and I don’t think the odds are in our favor.”

  Jayden nodded. “Let’s do it.”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  The Partials were being cautious; by the time Kira heard them, they were already at the front door. A footstep, maybe, or a loud breath—she couldn’t be sure what she’d heard, but she’d heard it. She waited, the silence stretching out to an eternity, then abruptly something clattered across the rubble in the doorway, followed by a loud bang like a gunshot. A flashbang grenade. The four of them stiffened, staying as silent as possible in the back room as heavy, booted feet ran into the kitchen beyond.

  Jayden was lying on the floor by the closed doorway, holding one of Kira’s medical tools: a small viewer with a narrow, flexible handle. It was designed for looking at noses and throats, but it worked just as well as a sort of tiny periscope—he’d curled it under the door and around the corner, giving him a perfect view of the rigged living room.

  Kira heard a low mutter from the living room, and listened more closely. She couldn’t be sure, but it sounded like Which group is this? There was no response.

  Jayden raised his hand, preparing to give the signal, and Haru hovered his finger over the detonator. Kira stopped him, trying desperately to mime the phrase, There’s one more in the hallway. She could hear its footsteps. Haru seemed to understand and nodded.

  Jayden gave the signal and curled up behind the mattresses they’d piled against the wall. When nothing exploded, he turned in alarm; when he saw Haru waiting, he mouthed obscenities and gave the signal again.

  Kira pointed at the hallway, miming as best she could, There’s one more. She held up three fingers, stabbing the air emphatically. Jayden slowly, silently moved back to his looking device, then leaped up in surprise the instant he looked through it, lunging for Haru with wide, terrified eyes. The doorknob turned—one of the Partials was coming in—and Kira slammed her hand down on the detonator button.

  The world roared.

  The explosion shook the building, knocking frames from the walls and plaster from the ceiling. The wall shattered and flew toward them, and even with the mattresses it felt like being hit in the head with a hammer. In the same instant the entire room started sliding downward, the floor giving way with a sickening sense of vertigo. Kira clung to the empty bed frame, though it was sliding along with everything else. She heard another massive roar, saw an avalanche of wood and plaster thundering toward her, and let go of the bed to cover her head with both hands.

  She felt herself buffeted from all directions, then enveloped by something rough and massive. The movement slowed, stopped, and as she slowly uncovered her head she saw other parts of the building still shifting—a shower of dirt and rubble, a falling refrigerator, a rug slipping slowly into a hole. The building’s rooms and floors had become meaningless, smashed together in a three-dimensional chaos. Kira tried to move; she was buried to her waist in rubble. Her legs felt pinned by something huge and heavy.

  She heard a cry from somewhere in the distance and shouted back, her throat dusty and her voice raw.

  “Hello! Jayden!”

  A hand rose up from the rubble in front of her, clad in the dark gray uniform and body armor she recognized from countless war-era photographs. It was a Partial.

  Kira strained at her legs, unable to move, then looked for her rifle. It was nowhere—even her medkit was gone. The arm in the rubble moved slowly, tenaciously, searching by touch for something to hold. It found a jutting piece of rebar and gripped it tightly, straining at its own weight, and Kira saw the rubble begin to shift. The Partial was rising to the surface—

  —and then a rat fell from the sky.

  Kira flinched back in shock, her mind taking a second to process the object. The rat hit the ground, twisted to right itself, and hissed. Kira grabbed a piece of plaster from the pile that held her trapped and threw it at the rat, shooing it away. She heard more chittering above her and looked up to see a slanted ledge two feet above her head, the whole surface boiling with rats.

  “No.”

  A couch behind the rats shifted suddenly, plunging six inches ahead. Two more rats fell toward her, one landing in her hair; she knocked it away and dug furiously at the rubble around her. The Partial arm still strained, the debris slid and shifted, and slowly a helmet came into view. The thing’s face was covered with a black visor, but she could hear it growl, low and guttural. Kira dug wildly, pulling in vain against the weight that pinned her legs. The couch above screeched harshly against the floor, bringing another shower of rats—three, five, she didn’t bother to count them. The Partial lunged upward, and suddenly both arms were free. It shook itself to dislodge more rubble, knocking away broken bricks and shards of plaster.

  Kira didn’t have time to think—she reached up, grabbed the ledge, and pulled it down with all her strength. The rats tumbled down in a shower, covering her in fur and claws and writhing, wormlike tails. The Partial lunged forward, its hands like claws, and in that moment the couch gave way, plunging forward like a boulder, catching the Partial in the face and slamming it backward to the floor. Kira screamed as the couch ground the skin from her knuckles, screamed as she batted away the frantic swarm of rats. There were answering shouts in the distance, but
she couldn’t make them out. She strained again at her legs and felt them move, ever so slightly; the falling couch must have shifted whatever was pinning her. She pulled as hard as she could, then changed her focus and started pushing, flexing against the weight to push it even farther away. If the couch had dislodged it, she might be able to move it farther.

  The couch moved again. The Partial underneath was still alive.

  Kira grunted with effort, clenching her teeth and heaving against the rubble with all her strength. It shifted again, gravel running past her legs, and with a loud groan the entire floor beneath her seemed to disappear, sucking her down with a cry of terror. She fell ten or fifteen feet and landed in a coal-black pit, scrambling for footing as more debris rained down from above.

  She heard an urgent whisper.

  “Hello?”

  “Yoon, is that you?”

  “Kira! Help me move this dresser.”

  Kira’s eyes adjusted slowly, and the pitch-black nothing became a dark gray outline of shapes and angles. The windows must have all been covered by rubble. She followed Yoon’s voice, slipping and sliding across the rubble, and found her pinned beneath a heavy wooden dresser. She had a better angle of leverage than Yoon, and together the two girls shoved it aside. A loud thud sounded behind them, and Kira turned to see that the Partial from above had jumped down the hole after her. It landed easily, like a cat, and immediately stood. Kira ducked back, hoping its eyes would take longer to adjust than hers had, but it lunged forward with perfect accuracy and tackled her to the floor. She kicked and scratched, screaming for help, but the Partial had arms like iron; she felt its weight like a cage, its arms as solid as bars, and then suddenly it stiffened, its back arched. Yoon ripped her knife from the Partial’s back, spun, and slashed again at its upraised throat. It fell to the side with a hissing gurgle and a spray of hot blood.