Partials (47 page)

She glanced up at the snipers on the roof, commanding a matchless view of the land around the hospital.
Partial or not, they could still shoot me down no matter how fast I try to run—

She paused, her eyes caught by a gleam of light from a window.
That’s the fourth floor—the only people who use that floor are the Senators. Are they meeting right now? Is there any way
that
could help me?

“Even if we get in,” said Jayden, “I don’t know how we’d ever get out again—not with Madison. They barely let her out of her bed, they’d never let her out of the hospital, and we don’t even have the jeep to hide her in.”

“You are just a little ray of sunshine,” said Marcus. He stood up. “This is fantastic—we can’t get to the hospital, we can’t get out, we probably can’t even get out of East Meadow. Our uniforms don’t even help us anymore—we have literally nothing.”

“That’s not true,” said Kira, looking back at the hospital. There was definitely light on the fourth floor. “You have me.”

“You’ll excuse me for not jumping with joy,” said Farad.

“See that light?” she asked, pointing at the lit upper windows. “That’s the Senate, and you’re going to bring them the one thing they want more than anything in the entire world: me.”

“No, we’re not,” said Marcus hotly, echoed by all three of the others.

“Yes, you are,” said Kira. “Our plan is destroyed, we can’t get Madison out, but we can still give her the shot—if we can get inside. You don’t need me to be there when you do it, and I was serious about giving my life for this. If Arwen lives, I don’t care what the Senate does to me.”

“We’re not going to give you up,” said Xochi.

“Yes, you will,” said Kira. “You pull down your hat brims, march up to the door, and tell them you caught me trying to sneak across the border. It’s the most believable story we could possibly come up with, because any soldier smart enough to be listening to his radio will know people have been hitting the border all day. They won’t even ask for ID, because why would Voice spies turn in one of their own?”

“Good question,” said Xochi. “Why would we? That doesn’t gain us anything.”

“It gets you inside the hospital,” said Kira. “Just hand me off to the guards inside, they’ll take me up to the Senate, and you head to maternity.”

“We don’t have to hand you off,” said Marcus, “once we’re in we could just … make a break for it.”

“And set off every alarm in the building,” said Kira. “If you turn me over, you can work in peace.” She took Marcus’s hand. “If this cure works, humanity has a future; that’s the only thing we’ve ever wanted.”

Marcus’s voice cracked when he spoke. “I wanted it with you.”

“They might not kill me outright,” said Kira, smiling weakly. “Maybe we’ll get lucky.”

Marcus laughed, his eyes wet with tears. “Yeah, our luck’s been awesome so far.”

“We’ll need to call ahead,” said Farad, hefting the radio, “just like we did with the checkpoint. If they hear us before they see us, we stand a much better chance of making this work.”

“We can’t risk the same trick twice,” said Jayden. “Someone who knows exactly how many patrols there are, and where they’ve been assigned, is going to be listening. It won’t take long to figure out we’re lying.”

“We can’t just show up without calling in first,” said Farad. “How suspicious would that look?”

Xochi drew her pistol, screwed on a silencer, and shot the radio squarely in the center; Kira and the others leaped back with a chorus of startled yelps. “Problem solved,” said Xochi, holstering her weapon again. “The evil terrorist Kira Walker shot our radio during the fight. Now: Kira is my best friend in the world, but she’s right. Her plan is the best, fastest way to get us inside that hospital, so take her weapons away and let’s do this.”

Kira pulled out her weapons and other gear, stripping herself of almost every piece of equipment she had; the men in the group eventually started helping, resigned to the fact that the decision had been made. Marcus wasn’t happy about it, but he wasn’t doing anything to stop it, either. The last piece of equipment was the syringe, wrapped tightly and padded with old shirts, tied firmly to an extra belt inside every other layer of clothing. She took it off, held it a moment, and handed it to Marcus.

“Take care of this,” she whispered.

“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

K
ira 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.

“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 the 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.