Partials

“I don’t want you to do this.”

“I don’t either,” she said, “but it has to be done.”

Marcus stared into her eyes, saying nothing, then took the belt and tied it carefully under his shirt. He made sure his clothes covered it, then smeared his face with dirt, altering his complexion enough that the nurses at the hospital might not recognize him. Might. Jayden and Xochi did the same, and Kira hoped it would be enough. I just have to make sure everyone is looking at me.

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

Kira twisted and pulled, screaming as they carried her toward the first row of guards. “You have to let me go! I’m trying to help you, you idiots, can’t you see that?” The time for stealth was long past: Her job now was to be as visible as possible so that no one looked closely at her friends. She ripped her arm loose from Farad’s grip and attacked Jayden with it, trying to make it look as convincing as she could; he responded in kind by slugging her in the side of the head, then curling her arm behind her in a sudden choke hold that held her completely immobile. “Oof,” she grunted, “nice one.”

“Shut up, Voice.” He dragged her around and cursed at Farad. “That’s how you hold a prisoner, blowhole. Now don’t let go again.”

“I think you’re breaking my arm,” said Kira.

“Good,” said Xochi, loud enough for the nearest group of soldiers to hear it. The group called out, but Xochi stepped up before they could say any more. “We caught her!” she said, waving the broken radio like a trophy. “Hurry, clear us a path to the Senate — I don’t want any civilians getting close enough to try anything.”

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.