Fleeing the country? — and the tightly sealed suitcases revealed clothes in much better condition than the rags she’d found before. She found clean underwear, rugged jeans that mostly fit, and an armful of shirts and socks that she brought with her just in case.
“So,” said Samm. He was sitting on the ground, the gas cans scattered around him.
Kira paused, holding the clothes. “So.”
Kira looked at him, at his face, at his eyes. She’d felt so close to him, and now… Was it the link? Maybe she really could do it, in some smaller way, and that’s what she’d been feeling. She shook her head, lost in conflicting emotions. Had their connection been nothing but some kind of Partial biological quirk, or had it been real?
If it was only the link, did that make it less real? And if she could connect that deeply with someone, did it really matter how?
“You really didn’t know?” He squinted at her in the fading sunlight. “You really thought you were…” He trailed off, and Kira felt grateful he hadn’t said it out loud.
“I had no idea. I’m still not convinced.”
“You’re definitely not like me,” he said, “but you’re”—he nodded at her friends—“not like them either. You can’t link, and yet I almost feel like you can, like there’s something between us that… I don’t know. I don’t know what you are.”
Kira opened her mouth to respond, but she didn’t know either. “I’m Kira Walker,” she said finally. “What else is there to know?”
Samm said nothing, merely gathered the gas cans.
“You can come with us,” she said. “We can hide you somewhere, in the farms or some little community. You’ll be safe there.”
Samm looked at her now, brown eyes as deep as wells. “Is that really what you want? To hide and be safe?”
Kira sighed. “I know even less about what I want right now than about who I am. I want to be safe. I want to know what’s going on.” She felt her resolve stiffen. “I want to find who did this, and why.”
“ParaGen,” said Samm. “They made us, they made you, and if your theory’s right about the pheromone, they made RM too.”
Kira smirked. “You always said you didn’t do it.”
The corner of Samm’s mouth turned up, just a bit, in the tiniest hint of a smile. “When did you start to believe me?”
Kira looked at the ground, kicking at a rock with the toe of her shoe. “I said what I want.” She looked up. “What about you?”
“What do I want?” Samm paused, considering the question with his typical solemnity. “The same thing as you, I guess. I want to know what’s going on, and why. And I want to fix it. After everything that’s happened, I’m more convinced than ever that peace—”
“Isn’t possible?”
“I was going to say that it’s the only chance we have.”
Kira laughed dryly. “You really do have an amazing knack for saying exactly what I want to hear.”
“You learn what you can,” said Samm, “and I’ll do the same. If we ever see each other again, we’ll share.”
“We’ll share what we’ve learned.”
“Yeah.”
They waited a moment longer, watching each other, remembering each other, and Kira thought for a moment she could even feel the link tying them together like an invisible wire. They walked back below, lugging the clothes and gas. Samm set them heavily in the boat.
“This should get you across,” he said, “assuming the motor holds.”
Jayden fired it up again, and the boat roared to life. He shook Samm’s hand. “Thanks for your help. I’m sorry for the way I treated you before.”
“Not necessary, but thanks.”
Xochi shook his hand as well, and then Marcus, though he never met his eyes. Kira climbed into the boat and offered around the shirts and socks to anyone who wanted a change. Marcus stepped in last, untying the ropes as he came.
“Where are you going from here?” he asked.
“I thought I’d try to hide,” said Samm, “but I figure it’s too late for that now.” He glanced back at the trees. “Heron’s right there.” Kira and her friends started, reaching for their weapons, but Samm shrugged. “She hasn’t attacked, so I don’t know what her game is.”
“You’re sure you’ll be okay?” asked Kira.
“If she wanted me dead, she’d have done it by now.”
Jayden gunned the motor and pulled away from the dock.
Kira watched Samm as he slipped into the distance and slowly disappeared from view.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
Their motor gave out more quickly now than on the first crossing, and despite their extra gas, they found themselves rowing most of the way across. The currents carried them east, and they saw the island long before they managed to pull in close and land the boat. Night had fallen, and they took shelter in an old beach house, grabbing a few hours of sleep before moving on. At first light Kira scoured the place for food, but the cans in the pantry were bloated, and the food inside smelled rank when they opened them up. They set them aside and searched instead for a map, eventually finding an atlas near a collapsed bookshelf. There was no detailed section for Long Island, just a larger map of New York in general, but it was better than nothing — she recognized enough of the names to know where they were going, and hoped that some of the road signs outside would help them discover where they were.
They parceled out the guns they had left — a rifle, a shotgun, and two pistols — and traveled quietly, wary of the Voice and Defense Grid patrols. Kira cradled the syringe as carefully as she could, wrapping it in a ball of extra shirts and strapping it around her waist for protection. She said a silent prayer that there would still be time to save Arwen, and watched the shadows for danger.
After barely an hour of walking, Kira began to recognize the terrain — so much of the island looked alike, crumbling houses buried in kudzu and surrounded by trees, but something about the road itself seemed familiar. The way it curved, or rose, or fell; she couldn’t place it. After a moment she stopped scanning the forested road with a frown.
“We’ve been here before.”
“We haven’t even turned,” said Jayden. “How could we have been here before?”
“Not this morning,” said Kira. “I just … there.” She pointed to a house set back from the road. “Do you recognize it?”
The others peered at it, and Marcus’s eyes went wide with surprise when the realization hit him. “Is that the drifter’s hideout? Tovar?”
“I’m pretty sure,” said Kira. “Maybe he has some food stashed in there.”
As they approached, it became more obvious — they’d only seen the front at night, in the rain, but they’d seen the back more clearly, and they recognized it immediately. Kira tried the doors, trying to remember which one the old drifter had left unblocked, but froze in place when she heard the click of a gun hammer.
“Just stop right there,” said a voice. It was definitely him. Kira took her hands from the doorknob and held them up to show they were empty.
“Owen Tovar,” said Kira. The others were standing silently, guns raised, searching for wherever the voice could be coming from. The drifter had a knack for staying hidden. “It’s me, Kira Walker. Do you recognize us?”
“The four most wanted criminals in Long Island?” he said. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure we recognize you.”
“‘Most wanted,’ huh?” asked Marcus. “My mother always said I’d be famous one day. Or at least I assume
