Page 11 of Ruins


  Well, not unless I damn it.

  Marcus wanted to accept the end of the world, to enjoy our time together because it was all the time we had. Was he right? I said no, and I left, and what do I have to show for it? I’m just as lost and hopeless as I ever was—more so now, because I’ve tried and failed.

  But at least I tried.

  And Samm. He taught me to accept as well—not the end of the world, but the end of myself. To sacrifice myself because it was the only moral choice when every other option was too terrible to consider. I made that choice, and I gave myself up, and yet here I am, no better off than before. The world is still ending. The heat of our presence is still fading from the Earth.

  But even that’s not true: The world ended thirteen years ago, and now the human race, and the Partials with us, are nothing but an afterimage. We’re dead already, like a severed head still blinking on the ground.

  I’ve never given up on anything, Kira thought. But I’ve always had options I could follow. Other choices I could take, and roads I could try, and . . . something. Do I have any of that now? Is selling out my people, my family, the entire human species, really the only answer? Can I live with myself if I do this?

  Can anyone live at all if I don’t?

  She put her hand on the doorknob, gripping it firmly, feeling the smooth metal curving in the palm of her hand. It was time. It was now or never.

  She let go of the knob and backed away a step.

  She backed away another.

  If extinction is the only option left, she thought, the choice you would never consider becomes the only moral choice you can make. Slavery is hell, but it’s not annihilation. We could still come back. Sometimes the wrong choice is still right.

  But sometimes it’s just wrong.

  She took another step back.

  The human race is more than blood and bones, thought Kira. The Partials are more than a double helix and an engineered pheromone. These are people; these are people I know. This is Samm and Xochi and Madison and Haru and Arwen and Isolde and Marcus and everybody I’ve ever met, everybody I’ve ever loved or hated or anything. It’s Vale and Morgan. It’s me.

  It’s not enough to save us. We have to be worth saving.

  She took another step back, standing now in the exact center of the wide hospital hallway, staring at the closed door.

  There are other Partials, she told herself. Other factions living out in the towns and the woods and the wasteland. They haven’t sided with Morgan, and I don’t have to either. If I can get even some of those groups, even one of those groups, to join me; if I can get them to help the humans like Samm did, to join them and live with them and work together, then we can do it. We can save the world. Not just our lives, but the reasons our lives are worth saving. Our thoughts and our dreams.

  Our hopes.

  Kira turned and walked back down the hall, striding purposefully now, her hesitance gone and her decision made.

  She could only hope that her decision was the right one.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Ariel ran, clutching her rifle, her heavy pack thumping frantically against her back. The others ran ahead of her, gasping desperately for breath, never daring to look back: Isolde with her baby, Madison with hers, Nandita surprisingly spry, and Xochi and her mother leading the way. They didn’t know what had given them away, but it didn’t really matter: A routine patrol had found them in the wilderness, and now the Partials were close behind them, roaring through the broken streets in Jeeps and motorcycles, and behind them a flatbed truck, barred with iron and bound with chicken wire.

  A cage.

  Kessler turned left into an overgrown yard, leaping ahead as she sought for a path to escape, and Xochi stayed behind, waving the others through the gap in the fence. Khan and Arwen were screaming, reflecting their mothers’ fear. Ariel caught up as Nandita struggled stiffly through the fence, and she spun around, risking a look behind. The Partials were practically on top of them. Xochi fired a burst from her rifle, shattering the lead Jeep’s windshield and forcing the driver to duck; it slowed them just enough to get through the fence, and then the women were running again, weaving through the bushes and saplings and overgrown debris. This yard was full of old appliances, a repair shop maybe, dishwashers and fridges rising up like monoliths. Ariel heard a bullet ping against one as she passed it.

  “They’re too close,” Xochi panted, barely able to speak as she barreled headlong through the weeds. “We’re not going to get away this time.”

  Ariel grabbed Nandita’s arm as she ran, pulling her through the maze of obstacles. “Think how easy this would be if our crazy witch lady would use her magical Partial mind control powers.”

  “You know I can’t do that,” said Nandita, wheezing from exertion. “They’ll know they’ve been controlled, which means we either keep them with us forever or send them home with the knowledge that one of the Trust is on the island.”

  “Can’t have that,” snapped Ariel, diving for cover as another burst of bullets flew by. “If they start hunting us, this might start to get serious.”

  “This is a patrol team rounding up strays,” said Nandita. “A dedicated hunt would be orders of magnitude worse.”

  Xochi fired over the rim of a rusted dishwasher, slowing the pursuit by forcing the Partials into similar cover. “In another minute or two we won’t have any choice,” she said. “They’re better at this, and there are more of them.”

  “Wait,” said Ariel, cocking her head as she listened. Something had changed. Xochi fired again, and Ariel shushed her with a wave. “Quiet, can’t you hear that?”

  Xochi dropped back into cover, and the three of them listened carefully as the others ran ahead. Ariel closed her eyes, trying to concentrate on the sound. What was it?

  “The engines,” said Nandita. “They’re idling.”

  Yes, thought Ariel, the sound of the engines has changed, but there was something else first. Something bigger, like a . . . She couldn’t put it in words.

  “Remind me what idling means,” said Xochi. “I’ve heard, like, four engines in my entire life.”

  “It means they’re waiting for something,” said Nandita. “They’re not pursuing us anymore.”

  “They can’t get the vehicles through this junkyard anyway.”

  “They revved them again,” said Ariel, still concentrating on the sounds. “But it sounds like they’re . . . leaving.”

  “How can you tell?” asked Xochi. “I can hear engines, but none of this deep emotional nuance you two are pulling out of them.”

  “You’re human,” said Nandita. “And you don’t have a fraction of the gene mods I do.”

  “They can’t be giving up,” said Ariel. “They were too close. You think they’re trying to surround us?” She looked ahead, trying to see the rest of their group, but they’d gone around a corner and out of sight. “We have to catch up. Kessler can’t defend the mothers by herself.”

  “There still might be Partials behind us,” said Xochi. “Moving out of cover might get us killed.”

  Nandita shook her head. “They’re here to capture us, not kill us.”

  “That was before we shot at them,” said Ariel. “Now we’re enemy combatants.”

  “Give me a moment,” said Nandita, and closed her eyes, drawing in a long, deep breath. She held very still, as if concentrating, and Ariel knew she was trying to sense nearby Partials on the link. She took a breath of her own but didn’t notice anything; she never could. Maybe with practice?

  Nandita’s eyes snapped open. “Ahead of us,” she gasped. “Run to the children!”

  All three women jumped up and ran, pelting forward to the rescue. Ariel spared a quick glance behind, but saw nothing. Why would they abandon us? Even if they sent men forward to cut us off, why pull away from their position behind?

  Ariel outpaced the others, slowing at the corner of the next big building to bring up her rifle before stepping out carefully, the barrel already lined
up at head level for any enemies that came into view. All she saw was a boot and ankle, disappearing through a doorway as a Partial walked inside. A moment later she heard the cry of an infant and bolted back into a run just as Xochi caught up with her.

  “Where?” asked Xochi.

  Ariel pointed to the open doorway, and Xochi nodded. They were each armed with an M16 assault rifle, taken from their personal collection as members of the old East Meadow militia; every teen on the island had been trained in firearms as part of their schooling, and the rifles had enough punch to take down an armored Partial if they hit it in the right places. We can do this, thought Ariel.

  Except we don’t know how many there are, or where.

  They were almost to the doorway. Ariel whispered as softly as she could while still running, “Do we sneak in quietly, or charge in guns blazing?”

  “Too late for either one,” said a stern male voice, and Xochi and Ariel both froze in their tracks. “Drop the rifles and step against the wall,” said the man, and they did, all the while Ariel cursing herself for her recklessness. She glanced back the way they had come but couldn’t see Nandita anywhere. She heard the children crying inside, and then footsteps behind her and the clank of metal, as the Partial soldier kicked their rifles farther out of reach. “Tell us what you know about the resis—”

  He stopped abruptly, as if alerted by something Ariel hadn’t heard, followed a split second later by another Partial shouting from inside the building.

  “Ced, you need to see this.”

  “Two combatants in custody,” their captor responded, “position unsecured.”

  “Bring them in here,” said the other Partial, “and ask them what they know about a year-old human child.”

  Ariel swore under her breath and heard Xochi doing the same. She looked to the side again, but Nandita was still in hiding.

  “Who are you waiting for?” asked their captor.

  Ariel swore again, though she kept it in her head this time, and hoped she hadn’t completely given Nandita away. “There was another group of you chasing us,” said Ariel. “I’m just surprised they haven’t caught up yet.”

  “They’re holding position while we flanked you,” said the Partial, though Ariel knew he was lying. The others left, she thought, and at full speed in their transports. That can’t be standard procedure—even the cage truck drove away. How were they planning to bring us in? What’s going on?

  “Through the door,” said the Partial, “and don’t try anything stupid.”

  Xochi and Ariel filed through the door into the ruin beyond, their hands held high above their heads. It was some kind of warehouse, holding more of the heavy appliances they had seen rusting outside. The interior was shady, but not dark, as much of the roof was collapsed and open to the sky. There was only one other Partial inside, holding his own rifle and Senator Kessler’s, while Kessler, Madison, and Isolde crouched in a corner with the two children. The Partial watched them warily as they came in, but he couldn’t keep himself from glancing back at Arwen, again and again and again. A one-year-old was too rare, too shocking to ignore. He motioned them into the same corner, and as they passed, Ariel scanned the floor as subtly as she could, looking for any other guns. There were none. She, Xochi, and Kessler had all been disarmed, but Madison and Isolde might have their semiautomatic pistols.

  And Nandita was still outside, where their captor had left their rifles lying in the grass.

  “That’s a year-old child, Cedric,” said the second Partial.

  “That’s . . .” The Partial who’d captured them followed them in, but the sight of Arwen stopped him cold. He peered at the girl in awe, his back to the door, letting his guard down for just a moment, and Ariel half expected Nandita to step in behind and shoot him. Nothing happened. He recovered his wits and moved to a defensive position where he could watch both the women and the door. Ariel was fairly certain it was just the two Partials, left alone to capture six women. Those numbers would make bringing them in very difficult, even for Partials, and the idea that capture might not be their goal suddenly chilled Ariel’s blood.

  “Tell us everything you know,” said Cedric.

  “I know Partials are heartless killers too stupid to pick their own noses without an officer around to show them how,” said Kessler. “Is that the kind of stuff you’re talking about? Or do you want to narrow that idiotic question down a little?”

  “Start with her,” said the other Partial, pointing at Arwen. “We thought all human children died instantly.”

  “You certainly did your best to make it that way,” said Isolde. Kira had told them that the Partials hadn’t released the plague, but few people believed her. Ariel wasn’t sure what she believed about it. The two Partials didn’t offer anything to confirm or deny it.

  “Is this the one you saved?” asked Cedric. “The one Kira Walker cured?”

  “We don’t know anything about Kira Walker,” said Ariel, deflecting the question. She forced herself not to glance at the door, not to give her thoughts away so easily again. Even if Nandita didn’t want to use the link to control them, she could pick up the dropped rifles and attack—a surprise shot that dropped one was all they needed, and in the confusion Ariel could take Isolde’s pistol and finish the other one. Or if we’re going to shoot them anyway, she thought, just use the damn mind control and make it easy on us. Was Nandita really that careful—that paranoid and secretive—that she’d risk losing them all in a firefight just to keep her best weapon hidden?

  Of course she is, thought Ariel with a snarl. This is Nandita—she’s always been like this, and she always will be. She’ll sell out every one of us to protect herself.

  “We don’t know why my daughter didn’t die,” said Madison, telling the lie they’d agreed on in case they ever got caught. “She’s immune, just like we are. Please leave us alone.”

  “We had a program called the Hope Act,” said Kessler. “We created as many pregnancies as we could—statistically, some of them were bound to share their parents’ immunity. This one did.”

  “Are there more?” asked Cedric. The other Partial watched the door, and Ariel watched him.

  Kessler shrugged. “We don’t know. I’d heard that maybe there were, way out in the east, but we don’t know where.”

  “That’s where we were headed,” said Madison. “We thought maybe if there were more children there, we could meet up and try to stick together. That’s all.”

  “There’s no one left in the eastern part of the island,” said Cedric. “We’ve gathered everyone into East Meadow.”

  “Why?” asked Ariel. She held no hope that the soldiers would answer, but she couldn’t help herself. Why gather the humans to a single location? What were they planning to do once they had them all? As expected, the soldier ignored her question completely.

  “Tell us what you know about the resistance,” said the other Partial. Ariel recognized this as the first question Cedric had asked, while they were still outside. She hadn’t been aware that there was a resistance movement, but it seemed to be a pretty big deal.

  “There is no resistance,” said Xochi. “Maybe a few groups like us, trying to get out of East Meadow, but that’s it.”

  “The humans have been running a guerrilla campaign for the full length of the occupation,” said Cedric. “Tell us about the biological weapon.”

  “What biological weapon?” asked Ariel.

  “Tell us about the rocket strikes in Plainview,” said Cedric. “Where did they get the rockets? Where are the ringleaders hiding?”

  “We don’t know any of this,” Ariel insisted. “We’re not part of any resistance—we’re just trying to protect these children.”

  “You’re fleeing the site of the largest human counterattack in the history of this occupation,” the Partial said firmly. “You are involved, and you will tell us what you know.”

  Ariel tried to visualize the map in her head, the old roads of Long Island laid out in her mem
ory. They had left East Meadow through Levittown, and then Bethpage, and then . . . Plainview. We were in Plainview this morning, she thought. There was no rocket strike, no attack of any kind. Maybe it happened since we left? But that’s only been a few hours—

  The noise I heard, she thought suddenly. I heard a noise, something big and distant, and then the engines stopped, and then a minute later they left. Was that the attack? A human resistance movement attacked Plainview, barely minutes ago, and the patrol chasing us was called back to help. These two aren’t here to capture us, they’re here to interrogate us.

  She opened her mouth to respond, but Cedric and the other Partial stood up, in almost perfect unison, glancing at each other and then all around the room. Ariel couldn’t tell if they looked scared or just confused.

  “What the hell is that?” asked Cedric.

  “It’s getting closer,” said the other.

  Ariel glanced at the other women, crouching lower and huddling closer for protection. Ariel pressed herself to Isolde’s side, feeling the gun tucked under the girl’s shirt. “I’m taking this,” she whispered.

  “They’re feeling something on the link,” whispered Isolde, nodding as Ariel took the handgun.

  “Think it’s Nandita?” asked Xochi.

  Ariel shook her head. “I’ve seen Nandita do her thing once before, and it was nothing like this.” She looked at the Partials again and saw them consolidating into better cover.

  “Do you have any more weapons?” asked Cedric. It took Ariel a moment to realize he was addressing them.

  “What’s going on?” asked Ariel.

  “Something’s coming,” said Cedric. “If you have weapons, get them ready.”

  “It’s got to be Nandita,” whispered Isolde.

  As if in answer, Nandita stumbled through the door, practically walking backward. To Ariel’s shock the Partials noted her only mildly, keeping their weapons trained on the door. “Get down!” they shouted. She scrambled for cover, her eyes wide. Cedric’s voice was hard as steel. “Did you see it?”

  “No,” said Nandita, “what is it?”