by Dan Wells
The sergeant of the other group hesitated. “Who do you have?”
“Kira Walker,” said Xochi. “In the flesh — she was part of that group that tried to jump the border. See for yourself.” She gestured to Kira, who stared back proudly.
“Holy crap,” said the sergeant, coming closer and peering at her carefully. It wasn’t anyone Kira knew, but he nodded. “That’s definitely her.” He paused a moment, then spit in her face. “My best friend was killed by the Voice, bitch.”
Marcus stepped up quickly to stop him. “Stand down, soldier. This is a prisoner, not a dog.”
“She attacked the hospital,” said the soldier. “What are you defending her for?”
“We’re taking her to the Senate,” said Marcus. “They’ll decide how to punish her, not us. Now you heard her — clear the way!”
The other squad glared at him angrily, and Kira held her breath, praying they didn’t ask for identification. She kicked Jayden in the shin, trying to look as dangerous as she could, and he swore and twisted her arm again — painfully enough that she didn’t have to fake her reaction. Apparently the show was enough.
“Let’s get her up there, then,” said the sergeant, and led them toward the hospital, clearing a path through the crowd of soldiers.
“We’re getting into the real danger zone now,” Jayden murmured. “I used to work with some of these guys.”
“Me too,” said Marcus, scanning the gathering crowd with his gun at the ready. He nodded faintly to the left. “That one, for instance.”
“Then we steer right,” said Jayden, and angled just slightly away.
I need them to look at me, not my escort, thought Kira, and launched into another tirade. “The Senate is lying to you! They’re the ones who brought the Partial here, and they told me to study it and I found a cure! I found a cure for RM, and the Senate tried to destroy it! Your children don’t have to die!” It was working: More and more soldiers were watching her now, every eye fixed on her face. They were almost at the front doors. Just a few more steps, Kira thought, just a few more.
The soldier leading them stopped, staring at the door, then turned toward Kira. His eyes were dark and clear. “Do you really have a cure for RM?”
Kira paused in surprise, not knowing what to think. Was he just curious? Did he really care? The question seemed loaded with extra meanings, little hints and messages and signs she couldn’t hope to interpret because she didn’t know anything about the man giving them. Was he on her side? Did he support the Senate? She looked past him to the front lobby of the hospital, open and ready; all her friends had to do was get inside, turn right, and follow the hall. They could save Arwen. They could do it.
But the people have the real power, she thought, remembering her conversation with Torvar. These are the people we’re trying to reach, the people who will follow us or stay with the Senate. How many of them are like Jayden, like Farad, wanting to rebel and just needing that final push?
Can I give them that push?
She turned back to the soldier and looked him straight in the eye. “Yes, I do,” she said. “I have a cure for RM. But the Senate would rather kill me than let you have it.”
“Give it to me,” the soldier whispered, leaning in close. “I can use it — I can’t save you, but I can use the cure and save the children.”
Was he telling the truth? Was he bluffing? Was he trying to trick her? She couldn’t give it to him without blowing Marcus’s cover, and the entire group’s, but what if she could — what then? Who in the crowd would attack her, and who would leap to her defense? Who would believe her, and would they believe her enough to let her into the maternity wing? It wasn’t enough for the soldier to promise to help — she had to see it, right here, or she couldn’t take the risk.
She whispered back, searching his eyes for some hint of understanding. “You can’t be half a hero.”
“ID challenge,” said another soldier to the side. He took a step closer, and Kira’s heart sank. “We’re supposed to ask everybody, even soldiers, and you’re not getting into this hospital unless I know exactly who you are.”
The crowd of soldiers stood breathless, watching the exchange, straining to hear. In the background Kira could see soldiers gripping their weapons, shifting their weight, getting ready for a firefight. I don’t know who to trust, she thought wildly. If people start shooting, I don’t know who to hide from, who to attack, I don’t know anything. I don’t even know what this soldier wants. Jayden reached down with his free hand and undid the snap on his holster, freeing the pistol for an easy draw. The soldier in front of her did the same—
— and turned to the side, putting the ready pistol just inches from Kira’s fingers.
“Hey, Woolf,” he called, addressing the soldier who’d challenged them. “Do you have a pair of handcuffs? There are a lot of sympathizers in this crowd, and I want to make sure she’s bound before we take her upstairs.”
A lot of sympathizers, thought Kira, staring at the gun in front of her. That might be a message for me — he’s ignoring the ID challenge and offering me a gun. He has to be on our side. But what is he doing? If he’s going to fight for us, why not just fight? What does he expect me to do? The crowd of soldiers watched carefully, poised on the brink of whatever her decision would be. Who’s with us? What am I supposed to do? She looked at the soldier in front of her, quickly running out of a good reason to be standing sideways. He’s giving me the choice, she realized. He’s not fighting yet because he wants to know if I’m serious or not — if I’m really ready to die for this, or just full of hot air. Anything we start here is going to be bloody. A lot of us are going to die.
He’s waiting for me to make the first move.
“I said ‘ID challenge,’” said the other soldier, stepping in closer. His rifle was ready in his hands; if he got too suspicious, he could kill them all in seconds. Kira made her decision and looked sharply to the left, past Farad and out into the crowd. The soldier followed her eye line, and she grabbed the waiting pistol in a single motion, pulling it around, flicking off the safety, and firing at the suspicious soldier’s head. He dropped like a sack of fish, and she shouted at the top of her lungs.
“Fight for your future!”
The crowd erupted in screams. Kira ducked, and Marcus pulled her heavily to the ground. “You’re going to get shot up there!”
“I’m going to get shot everywhere!” she shouted, and turned back toward the hospital doors. The soldier who’d given her the pistol went down, and Kira quickly traced the path backward and shot the man who’d fired the bullet, firing twice. The ground before them began to clear, and Kira jumped up, dragging Marcus with her as she dashed ahead to the doors; Jayden and Xochi followed close behind. Almost as soon as they entered the building, Kira heard a burst of gunfire echoing down the corridor and dove to the floor behind a tall information desk.
“This is plywood,” said Jayden. “It’s not going to stop any bullets.”
“And the crowd outside is not entirely in our favor,” said Xochi. “I don’t like lying on the floor in full view of a revolution. We need a strategy.”
Jayden laughed grimly. “Press the attack and hope for the best.”
“Hope is not a strategy,” said Kira.
“It’s not plan A,” said Jayden, “and it shouldn’t be plan B, but it is every plan C that has ever been made.”
Kira nodded and took her shotgun back from Farad. “Then I’ll cover you — somebody with an effective range take out those shooters.” Before she had time to think better of it, Kira leaped to her feet and started firing down the hall, blast after blast from the shotgun. It was a long-barreled, single-shot weapon, useless in close quarters, but at medium range like this it laid down a devastating hail of buckshot that sent the loyalist soldiers ducking for cover. Jayden popped up beside her with his rifle, sighting carefully and taking quick, precise shots every time an enemy raised his head or stuck out his gun. Marcus and the others used t
he time to run ahead, staying well out of Kira’s line of fire, and when her trigger clicked on an empty chamber, she called out to Xochi, who took up position in a doorway and continued the barrage on her own. Kira and Jayden ran forward to join the others, and Kira threw herself into the room next to Marcus.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
“Same old, same old,” he said, clenching his teeth at the thundering booms that shook the walls and ceiling. “How about you?”
Kira nodded. “The cure’s okay?” She felt for it on Marcus’s waist, brushing his fingers briefly as he did the same. The syringe was intact and the padding was dry; nothing had broken or leaked out. She left her hand there for a moment longer, looking into Marcus’s eyes.
“I’m sorry,” she said softly. Xochi screamed defiantly behind them, ducking back to reload while Farad took up the fight.
“What, this?” asked Marcus, gesturing around. “Don’t worry about it — happens all the time.”
“You wanted to live in peace,” said Kira, loading fresh shells into her shotgun. “That’s all you’ve ever wanted, just the two of us together, and I wanted it too, but I—”
“I know,” said Marcus, all joking gone from his voice. “I wanted everything to stay the same, but you wanted things to be better. And you were right, and it’s going to be better, it’s just … going to be a whole lot worse for a while first. And I think I knew that, and I was scared of it.”
Farad grunted behind them, not a scream but a soft, guttural moan, and his body fell to the ground. Xochi cried out, and Kira turned pale at the sight, dragging him back out of the line of fire. Marcus felt his neck for a pulse, bending close to listen for breathing, but there was too much blood — there was no way he was still alive. Marcus shook his head, confirming her fears. “He’s gone.”
“What now?” asked Jayden. The hallways was eerily quiet now that no one was shooting, though faint sounds drifted in from the distance: muted screams and pops of gunfire from the outer grounds; wails of patients trapped and helpless in the hospital; desperate screams of tiny infants, burning alive as the fever ate their bodies. The four friends crouched in the room, trembling and terrified. Kira looked through the door, but all she could see were a few narrow feet of the opposite wall. Not knowing what was out there made her feel blind and deaf. Jayden reloaded his gun quickly and efficiently, though Kira could see his fingers shaking with fatigue and adrenaline. “One more on our list of failed plans,” he said. “We couldn’t sneak in, we’re sure as hell not sneaking back out again, and there’s no point dragging you up to the Senate. Straight to maternity?”
“Straight to maternity,” said Marcus. He grimaced, shaking his head. “Kira was ready to die so that we could give Arwen the shot; I think we should be ready to die for it, too. It’s only two more doors down — if we can get in and inject her, even if we never get back out, we’ve won. The baby will be saved, and thanks to our display outside, everyone will know who did it.”
Xochi took a breath. “You think we’re going to make it?”
“Only one of us has to,” said Jayden.
Marcus stood up, undoing his shirt and removing the belt with the cure. He looked at Kira, then picked up his rifle. “If only one of us lives through this, I’d kind of prefer it to be you. Are we ready for this?”
“No,” said Xochi, “but that’s never stopped us before.” She grabbed a rolling chair and waited just inside the door, looking back. Kira and the others checked their weapons and nodded, and Xochi pushed the chair out into the hallway.
A burst of gunfire filled the hall, and the four friends leaped out after it, firing wildly at the surprised gunmen who were aiming at the wrong moving object. Xochi led the way, stumbling as a round took her in the arm, but she was already to the maternity room and slammed into the door; it didn’t budge, so she stepped back, shot the lock, and fell through as the door swung open. Marcus followed more slowly, either aiming very poorly or missing on purpose, trying not to kill the enemy soldiers but to scare them into cover. It seemed to be working, and Kira and Jayden did their best to keep up a steady barrage as they jogged forward. Suddenly Xochi screamed, and Kira heard a gunshot. Marcus sprinted through the maternity door a moment later and Kira heard more shots, and then suddenly she was down, a sharp pain in her leg like nothing she’d ever experienced.
“Get up,” growled Jayden, firing wild bursts into the end of the hall. “I’m almost out — I can’t keep them down forever.”
Kira struggled to stand, but her leg felt limp and useless; blood soaked her pant leg and pooled around her on the floor. “I’ve been shot.”
“I know you’ve been shot, just get out of the hallway!”
Kira lunged forward, crawling on her hands, dragging her leg behind her. The pain was growing now, and she could feel her own consciousness fading as her blood pumped eagerly onto the floor. Jayden cursed and fired more carefully, saving his shots, trying to keep the soldiers at bay one bullet at a time. Kira pulled the cure from her shoulder and held it up.
“Take it and run,” she said. “Leave me here and save Arwen.”
“You know, Kira,” said Jayden, firing his last bullet and throwing down the rifle, “I don’t think you know me very well at all.” He stooped, grabbed her by the shoulder and waist, and heaved her up to her feet, surging backward toward the maternity door, keeping himself between Kira and the enemy. The soldiers fired, and Kira felt his body shake with one impact, then another; his breathing grew ragged, his pace slowed, but he never stopped. Kira clung to him, calling his name desperately as he groaned and cursed and wheezed. At last he tumbled sideways into the maternity door, and they collapsed to the floor.
“Jayden!” screamed a voice. Kira turned to see Madison crouching protectively over an intensive care incubator, and her heart sank. She’s already born. Are we too late?
Beside her was Haru, wild-eyed and disheveled, clutching a gun. He aimed it at Kira. “Drop your weapons.”
“Jayden!” Madison screamed again and tried to rush forward, but Haru stopped her with an iron grip on her arm.
“Stay here.”
“He’s hurt!”
“I said stay here!” Haru’s voice was like thunder, and Madison pulled back in fear. “We are not letting them near our baby.”
“Jayden,” Kira whispered, “stay with me.” She looked around quickly, seeing Xochi and Marcus both standing straight against the wall, their guns on the floor and their arms in the air. Marcus moved to help her, but Haru roared at him to stop.
“Do not move!”
“My brother’s dying!” screamed Madison. “Let them help him!”
Kira struggled to sit up, careless of her own wound, and carefully examined Jayden’s back; he’d been hit by multiple rounds. A moment later Marcus joined her, carefully removing Jayden’s backpack to see how much damage had been done. Kira didn’t see if Haru had let him move, or if he’d just come anyway.
The soldiers from the hall were in the doorway now, guns trained on them.
“She…,” said Jayden, though his voice was almost too quiet to hear, “has … the cure.”
“What did he say?” asked Madison.
“He said idiot Voice lies,” said Haru. “Don’t even listen to him.”
“He said I have the cure,” said Kira. She turned painfully, dragging her bloody leg. Was it just her imagination, or was the wound already starting to heal? She clutched the cure in her hand and held it up. “It’s right here.”
“You’re not getting anywhere near my daughter,” said Haru.
“I’m going to save her,” she said again, grabbing the wall and pulling herself, inch by agonizing inch, to her feet. She rested her weight on her good leg and tried to ignore the other, willing herself to stand through sheer mental force. “I have sacrificed everything I had, and everything I am, to save your daughter. Are you really going to be the one to stop me?”
“You’re a Partial agent,” said Haru. “You’re in league
with them — God only knows what you’re trying to do to my daughter, but I will die before I let you do it.”
“I’m fine with that plan,” said Xochi.
“He’s dead,” announced Marcus, falling back from Jayden’s body. He looked up at Haru, gasping for breath and reeling from exhaustion. “He died for this, Haru. Don’t do this.”
Madison wailed in despair, and the child in the crib wailed with her, an incoherent cry against a world that brought nothing but pain. Kira stared at Haru fiercely. “You have to let me try.”
“Try?” asked Haru. “You mean you’re not even sure?”
Kira paled, thinking of all the ways she could be wrong, all the ways the injection could fail. What if I’ve done all this for nothing? What if I’ve killed my friends and destroyed my world for nothing more than a sloppy experiment and some bad guesses and my own stubborn pride? The Senate warned me about this: They said I was risking thousands of lives and the future of the human race for one overriding obsession. Is it because I’m a Partial, driven to destroy everything just because that’s how I’m made? Thanks to me, the entire nation is in chaos, thousands are dead, and without a cure, we may never recover. Without a cure, it won’t even matter.
But with a cure…
“I don’t have any data for you,” she said. “I don’t have any facts, my studies were all lost when the lab exploded, and the cure itself has never been tested. I don’t have anything that can prove to you that what I’m doing is right. But Madison,” she said, looking her adopted sister straight in the eye, “if there is one thing you know about me, one thing at all, it’s that I always try to do the right thing. And no matter how painful this has been, no matter how much hell we’ve been through and how many of us have died, this is the right thing to do.”
“Shut up!” screamed Haru, shoving the pistol forward. Kira ignored him, keeping her eyes on Madison’s.
