by Dan Wells
“Over there,” said Samm, pointing across the water. Kira crawled toward him, her legs too weak to stand, and clambered up to lean against the wall. “The big building, just to the right,” he said. He handed her the binoculars. “I wasn’t sure it was them at first, but it is.”
Kira searched for the big building he’d pointed to, then looked to the right, probing slowly across the landscape. She saw movement and snapped onto it, looking carefully: three people. She couldn’t see them clearly, but she was fairly certain she recognized their clothes.
“We’re all alive, then,” she said, staring at the one she thought was Marcus. “I grabbed someone underwater. I thought it was Xochi.”
“It was me,” said Samm simply, still scanning the horizon.
Kira crouched next to him. “What is that, an island?”
“The other side of the bay,” said Samm. “It looks like the storm dropped us right where we needed to go—though obviously in two separate groups. I guess we can’t complain too much.”
“This is Greenwich?”
“Close enough,” said Samm. “If I’ve got our location right, your friends are actually closer than we are.”
“We need to signal them,” said Kira. “They keep looking out to sea—they don’t know we’re over here.”
“Too dangerous,” said Samm. “Even if you could shout that far, any Partials in the area would hear you first and get to us first as well.”
“We can’t just let them wonder.”
“If they’re smart, they’ll head inland, looking for anything that can tell them where they are. We can go up around the bay and find them.”
“We can find another boat and row over there—”
“No we can’t,” said Samm firmly. “This is close to Greenwich, but it’s south, and that means rebel territory. They watch these waters, looking for D Company—the only reason they didn’t see us come in was the storm concealing us. If we row out across the bay, we’ll be spotted for sure.”
“Then won’t they be spotted as well?”
“Not if they wise up and get out of the open,” said Samm. “They’re actually safer here than we are—I’ll automatically link to any other Partials in range, but you humans are effectively invisible. No one expects to find humans on the mainland, so we don’t look for them; we rely too heavily on the link. If those three stay smart, they can move through the entire area without being caught.”
“Great for them,” said Kira, still watching her friends through the binoculars. “How are we going to get past the rebels?”
Samm held up a waterlogged blanket, one of the ones they’d found in the old yacht, and started ripping it into strips. “The link data is transmitted primarily through our breath. If I cover my mouth and nose tight enough, I should be able to mask my presence. A little.” He frowned.
“Are you going to be able to breathe?”
“That’s why this isn’t a perfect solution,” he said. “A gas mask isn’t perfect, but it’s much better. I don’t know how much the rebels know about the mission we launched in Manhattan, but it’s conceivable that things have escalated, and if so, that’s what their scouts will be wearing. They’re the ones we’ll have to be careful of, because I won’t know they’re coming until it’s too late.” He wrapped the wet black cloth around his face, covering his mouth and nose and tying the ripped blanket tightly behind his head. He took a deep breath, trying it out, then tied another strip over the first to give it more grip.
“This should work for a while.” His words were muffled, only barely discernible. Kira nodded and followed him back through the grounds of an old manor house, wishing she’d managed to keep hold of her guns in the shipwreck. She didn’t like the prospect of meeting other Partials without them.
The manor house turned out to be on a small, rounded promontory, connected back to land by a series of narrow asphalt lanes. They crossed each one at a run, crouching low and then ducking behind the nearest spray of foliage, looking for signs that they’d been spotted. If there were other Partials watching, they kept themselves hidden. Kira looked back across the harbor whenever she could, hoping to catch a glimpse of her lost friends, but they were hidden as well. She doubled her pace, desperate to round the harbor and find them before they wandered too far away.
Samm led her through a small shipyard, full of dry, cracking boats and rusted tracks leading down into the water. Beyond that was an old park, overgrown with trees and kudzu, yet originally big enough, Kira estimated, to have made for a series of good-size cornfields. It surprised her that the Partials hadn’t planted it, but she supposed a war zone wasn’t the best place, and this was, as she understood it, the outskirts of the Partial civilization. Perhaps all their farms were farther north? Or did they get food by some other means she couldn’t guess at? It bothered her, suddenly, how little she really knew about the Partials: Here she was, in unknown territory, trusting the enemy she’d been raised to hate. The reason she was an orphan. The reason she’d learned to fire a gun at eight years old.
Do I really know what I’m doing?
Samm led her away from the water’s edge, into the wooded park where they’d be harder to see. He moved quickly but carefully, his eyes darting back and forth, examining not only their flanks but the ground and the trees above them. Kira fell into rhythm beside him, watching for ambush, avoiding fallen branches. They passed a funeral home, and she studied it solemnly. Death seemed to hover in the air.
Beyond the trees they came to a highway, flanked on the far side by another row of thick trees. It cut through the forest like a hallway, and Samm peered down it in both directions—flat to the west, and climbing a small hill to the east. “We’ll make better time on this than next to it,” he said. “It doesn’t take us through the town, just around the edge, so there might not be anybody watching.”
“Will it take us to Marcus and the others?”
“They’ll have to cross it, too.” Samm nodded. He pointed toward a curve in the road, far to the east. “That’s the end of the peninsula, if I’m remembering correctly. If they haven’t already crossed, we can catch them there.”
They ran quickly, making up for lost time; the highway was raised, with extra layers of asphalt between it and the dirt below, and nothing had managed to grow through. No one crossed their path, ahead or behind them. Soon the road began to rise, and Kira realized with shock that the rest of the country wasn’t rising with it—it wasn’t a hill, just an elevated road. Smaller roads began passing underneath it.
“Stop,” she said. “We may have already missed them.”
“I was thinking the same thing.”
“We need to find them.”
“We’re almost to the base now,” said Samm, shaking his head. “We should go straight there and then send out a search party—they’ll find your friends better than we can.”
“Unless someone else finds them first,” said Kira. She looked out from the elevated road, trying to see through the gaps in the trees below. “We can’t just leave them out here for the rebels to find.”
“I don’t think they will,” said Samm, tapping his face mask. The link.
“Then you go,” said Kira, “and I’ll look for Marcus. Your search-and-rescue team can find me just as easily as they can find them.”
“We can’t split up again,” Samm insisted. His voice was low, barely audible through his makeshift mask. He seemed jumpy for the first time, and Kira felt herself grow nervous at the sight of it.
“What’s wrong?”
She heard the roar of an engine, a distant echo through the trees, and she went pale.
“You use cars, too?”
“Electric, mostly, but yes. There’s an oil refinery farther north.”
Kira glanced up and down the highway, trying to pinpoint the sound. “Behind us?”
“I think so.” He started jogging forward. “We have to run.”
“We don’t have time,” said Kira, peering over the edge of the sidewa
ll. It was at least twenty feet down, but the trees were crowded close, and she thought she could reach one. “We need to climb down.”
“We can’t go down,” said Samm fiercely, rushing back to grab her arm. “We have to move forward.”
“The engines are getting closer, we don’t have time to—”
“There are rebels down there,” he whispered urgently.
Kira dropped to her knees, crouching behind the wall. “You’re linking with them?”
“I can’t help it.”
Which means they know we’re here. Kira stared at him, studying his eyes. We don’t have weapons. We can’t fight. The enemy already knows we’re here.
Do they know my friends are here as well?
“How close?” Kira whispered.
Samm grimaced. “It’s not that precise when it’s muffled like this, but I can tell they’re close. Seventy, eighty yards.”
“That’s pretty precise,” said Kira. “You think they heard us talking?”
Sam shook his head. “They’re on alert, but it might not be for us. We have no way of knowing until they’re closer, and then if we’re wrong, it’s too late.”
Kira punched the concrete with the side of her hand, swearing under her breath. I’m not going to let them get captured. She took a deep breath, shaking her head at her own stupidity, and stood up. “We’re going down.”
“We can’t go down.”
She jogged to the spot with the closest tree, looked at the underbrush two stories below, and clambered onto the sidewall. Samm pulled her back, and she shook him off. “I’m not leaving my friends,” she said firmly. “You can either come with me or go for help.” She climbed back up, balancing carefully, and tried to gauge the distance. Seven feet. Maybe ten. That’s long for a standing jump, but I’ll get extra distance as I fall.
Which is not very encouraging.
“Don’t do it, Kira.”
She jumped.
She kept her hands wide and wrapped her arms around the biggest branch she could, catching it with her elbows and swinging wildly beneath it. The tree caught her as she caught it, and the rough branches dug sharply into her skin and clothes. The tree shook with a second shudder, and she saw that Samm had followed her. She smiled. “Thanks.”
“You’re crazy,” he muttered.
“That’s what everyone keeps saying.”
They climbed down quickly, hearing the roar of the engine grow louder and louder. The sound split as it neared, becoming two engines, then three, then four. Kira dropped the last few feet to the ground and raced into the underpass, crouching in the shadow of a thick concrete pillar. Samm threw himself down beside her, and they listened as the cars rumbled overhead, streaking away to the east and slowly fading into the distance.
Kira whistled. “That was close.”
“Not as close as it’s going to be,” said Samm. His voice was stiff and strained.
“Are you hurt?”
“No,” he grunted, “just … what’s your plan?”
“They can’t sense me coming, right? So I’m going to jump one from behind and take his gun.”
“They can’t sense you on the link, Kira, but that doesn’t mean you’re invisible.”
“How much can they sense from you?” she asked. “Thoughts? Motive?”
“Not exactly,” he said, “more like health, proximity, emotional state. Things like that. I won’t be able to glean anything from them that would help you grab one.”
“I don’t want you to read their minds,” said Kira, looking out at the wide, tangled lawn. “I want you to be bait.”
“Whoa.” He held up his hand. “Are you serious?”
“It’s okay,” she said. “I’ll stop them before they hurt you.” She grinned. “You said they rely too much on the link, right? So if the link tells them there’s a Partial hiding around one corner, they won’t even bother to look around the other.”
He shook his head. Kira could see that his breathing was accelerated; his face twitched and scowled. “As soon as you jump one, the link will tell the others he’s in trouble.”
“Then we hit fast and be gone before they show up.” She pulled him farther behind the pillar. “I know it’s dangerous, but my friends are in the same danger—worse, even, because they don’t have you.” Her voice softened. “We can do this.”
“That’s great,” said Samm, “but you’re talking about finding a scout trained and equipped to avoid being found. It’s not going to happen.”
“Keep your voice down,” Kira whispered. “It already has.” She gestured around the edge of the pillar, and Samm carefully peeked out. He ducked back and pressed his mouth to her ear.
“Forty yards out.”
“He probably heard us fall out of the tree,” Kira whispered. “I don’t think he’s seen us yet—he’s not trying to hide, just checking something out.” She pointed to the far side of the underpass. “You crawl over there. He’ll see you and walk right past me.” Samm seemed nearly rigid with tension, like he was clenching every muscle in his body; he’d been like that for a while. The other Partial’s too close, she thought. I don’t have time to see if he’s injured. “Are you sure you’re all right?”
“Fine,” he grunted. He turned and crawled through the underbrush, working his way to the far pillar, then across to the next in line. Kira nodded, impressed at the tactic. This way the rebel scout won’t pass as close to my pillar, she thought, so he’ll be less likely to look behind it. Samm moved stiffly, almost painfully, and she wondered again if he’d hurt himself in the jump to the tree. But no—he was already acting strange on the road above. What’s going on?
“Hold it,” said a voice, and Kira was shocked to hear that it was female. She froze in place, hoping her plan had worked and the Partial wouldn’t notice her. Samm stopped as well, pausing on his hands and knees in the thin weeds below the bridge. He didn’t speak. Kira heard footsteps behind her, to the side, then held her breath as the Partial walked past in a straight line toward Samm. Seen up close she was obviously female: thin in the waist, round in the hips and chest, a bun of jet-black hair done up behind the strap of her gas mask. Her eyes had a marked epicanthic fold, like she was Chinese, which Kira couldn’t puzzle out—the Chinese were the enemy in the Isolation War. Why make a Partial the other soldiers might mistake for an enemy? She held a menacing rifle trained on Samm’s back, the muzzle tipped with the fat black cylinder of a suppressor. Kira recognized it as a sniper rifle.
The girl stopped just a few yards away, maybe two good strides if Kira sprinted—probably not enough time for the girl to react. Kira nodded, gearing herself up for the attack. She’d learned a little hand-to-hand in school, though not much; the Defense Grid figured if a Partial got that close you were screwed anyway, since they were so much stronger. Kira hoped it wasn’t true, and rose to the balls of her feet.
“Don’t say anything,” said Samm. His voice was strained, like he was speaking through teeth clenched as tight as he could make them. “Don’t speak.” He put his hand to his face, covering his mouth and nose. Kira stood, placing her feet carefully, coiling her muscles for a charging tackle.
Small of the back, she told herself. Hit low and hard. Pin her arms. Strike at the base of the skull to knock her—
“Samm,” said the girl, and Kira froze.
She knows his name? Is that part of the link?
Or is she part of his company?
“Don’t speak,” Samm growled, but already Kira’s thoughts were flying, connections snapping together in her mind. If this girl knew Samm, that meant they were part of the same faction, which meant the nearby soldiers were Samm’s own comrades. Samm’s own officers. He’d said the link was also used to enforce the chain of command: They could sense Samm was here, and they were ordering him to respond. That’s why he was moving so stiffly—it was taking every ounce of his strength to resist them.
But why is he hiding from his own people?
“Talk to me, Samm.” Th
e woman stepped forward, keeping the rifle aimed squarely at his back. “We thought you’d been captured.”
Samm lowered his head, nearly collapsing into the dirt. He won’t hold on much longer, Kira thought. Go! She pelted forward, arms spread wide, shoulder down to nail the Partial in the small of the back.
And then the Partial whirled around.
Kira was already inside the range where the long rifle would be useless as a gun. Instead the Partial brought it down like a club, slamming the heavy stock into the side of Kira’s face just as Kira wrapped her arms around the girl’s waist and knocked her solidly to the ground. Both girls gasped in pain at the impact, but Kira’s head was still ringing from the rifle blow, and the other girl recovered first. She dropped her gun and grappled Kira with cold efficiency, twisting one arm behind her back and kneeing her painfully in the stomach. Kira fought wildly, clawing at the Partial’s face and neck and very nearly escaping from her grip, twisting just enough to keep it from becoming a true submission hold. Suddenly Kira felt the cold metal edge of a knife on her throat, and the girl spoke calmly in her ear.
“Stop moving now.”
Kira froze; there was nothing she could do. If she’d had just two more seconds to work with, maybe, but somehow the Partial had known that Kira was there.
“Let go of her, Heron, she’s with me.”
“She doesn’t link.”
“She’s human.”
Heron’s voice was surprised, but she didn’t loosen her grip. “You captured one? The mission was a success? Where’s the rest of your team?”
You captured one? thought Kira. She loosened the girl’s grip on her throat and shouted loudly at both of them. “What the hell is going on?”
“They’re dead,” said Samm, stepping closer to Heron, “but it’s not what you think. You can let her go—she’s not a threat. She’s on our side.”
Kira couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “Were you planning this all along?” she asked. “Was this whole thing just a trick to get me back here?”
