Partials (38 page)

“We don’t know what’s west of here,” said Kira. “For all we know we’d be running straight into the Grid army. These could just be outriders.”

“It’s smarter to stay on the path northward,” Samm agreed. “At least this way we know what we’re getting into.”

“Okay,” said Marcus, “but we stay in the trees. Now that they’re ahead of us, they could be waiting somewhere and watching the road.”

The trees slowed them down, and they moved almost by feel through the thick woods. Several times they had to cross side streets, and every time Kira held her breath, certain they would hear a cry of alarm, or worse yet a gunshot. Nothing came. When they reached a long stretch of ruins—old shops and offices—they crossed the main road to the far side, sticking to the cover of the woods.

Eventually even those woods thinned, and Kira looked out across a wide expanse of streets and cross streets and flat, empty parking lots. Squat buildings rose up like fat, sagging mushrooms, and the pavement was cracked and dotted with weeds and trees, but even so it was terrifyingly open.

“Another strip mall,” she whispered. “We can’t cross this.”

“You want to go around?” asked Marcus, crouching down to catch his breath. “Or just turn west? We’ve been walking north for miles now, surely we’re close to the bay Jayden was talking about.”

“That or we’ve gone too far,” said Jayden, “and we’re about to run straight into the farms.”

“I don’t know how much longer I can go,” said Xochi. Kira could barely see her face in the darkness, but her voice was starting to slur with exhaustion.

“We can’t stop,” Samm insisted.

“We don’t have your endurance,” said Jayden. “I’ve trained for this, but they could collapse at any moment. We’ve been running for what, nine miles? Ten?”

“Eight point four,” said Samm. He didn’t even seem tired.

“I’m fine,” wheezed Marcus, but Kira thought he looked ready to fall over. Xochi could barely even talk.

“We go west,” said Kira. “The sooner we get into a boat, the sooner we can rest.”

Xochi nodded and lurched forward, pained but determined. Samm jogged forward to take the lead, and the rest fell into a slow, limping line behind him.

The side road slanted west around the strip mall, then slowly curved south again. Samm gave another signal and then dropped into the bushes, waiting in tense, rasping silence as a pair of horses clopped past them. They waited longer, giving the horses time to get far ahead, then crawled to their feet and pressed forward, shambling painfully on legs too tired to move any faster. Kira’s burn was agonizing now, an unrelenting fire deep inside her leg. She curled her hands into tight fists, taking short breaths and trying not to think about it.
I just need to make it to that tree. Just that one tree, and then I’ll be fine. Just a few more steps. Now that tree, just beyond. That’s all I have to do. One tree at a time
.

“I can smell the ocean,” said Samm, and soon Kira could as well—salty and heavy, cool and bracing in the night air. They redoubled their efforts, panting loudly, no longer caring about stealth but simply trying not to stop. The trees gave way to another shopping center, and another beyond that. Marcus walked closer to Kira now, shaky as well but doing his best to support her. She clung to his arm and hobbled forward.

“This way,” said Samm, turning north on the next road. Moonlight glistened on a silver expanse of water, smooth as black glass, and Kira looked eagerly for a boat. There was nothing.

“It’s too shallow here,” she panted. “We have to keep going.”

“‘Boats all over the North Shore,’” Jayden muttered. Kira didn’t have the breath to respond.

Samm led them through a wide courtyard, wading through waist-high saplings with buildings on every side. They heard more hoofbeats on the road behind them, and they collapsed into the underbrush with abject exhaustion. This time the riders stopped, their horses slowly turning as they examined the area.

“Think it was them?” said one.

“That or a cat,” said the other. They eased their horses closer, still looking around. Moonlight glinted faintly off the long metal lines of their rifles.

“Too much noise for a cat,” said the first. “Give me the light.”

Kira didn’t dare to move or even breathe. The second rider pulled a flashlight from his saddlebag and handed it to the first, who clicked it on and shined it at the building on their left—a church of some kind, broken and leafy. Samm moved his rifle into position, sighting carefully at the first rider, but Kira shook her head:
We can’t afford the noise
.

We can’t kill our own people
.

There was a soft knock on a far wall, and the riders looked up in unison. They shined the light on the building, but Kira couldn’t see anything. They led their horses toward it, and Xochi whispered softly.

“I threw a rock. Let’s get out of here before they come back.”

They crept backward through the brush, inch by inch, always keeping their eyes on the riders. Marcus stood and hurled another rock, farther this time, and the riders paused, listened, and finally followed it. Kira stood as well, leaning on Samm as she rose, and the group backed around the corner of the ruined church.

“There’s more over there,” Samm whispered, pointing west toward the bay. He looked at Kira, his eyes lost in shadow. “Sooner or later we’re going to have to shoot someone.”

Kira closed her eyes, trying to clear her head. “I know this is dangerous, and I know it might come to guns—that’s why we have them. But I don’t want to shoot anybody if we can get away with it.”

“We might not have a choice,” said Samm.

The bushes rustled behind them, and Kira heard the stamp and snort of the horses. Samm raised his rifle, but Kira stopped him again.

They waited, holding their breath, praying for the soldiers to move on. An eternity later, they did.

“They’re moving south,” Samm whispered. “Don’t waste it—move.”

The group was practically running now, watching the ground in front of their feet because they couldn’t see any farther. The road plunged into forest, and soon the dark shape of a massive house rose out of the trees beside them.

“There,” said Kira. “A lot of these mansions have private docks.”

They swerved to the left, through the grounds and around the house to the harbor. The yard behind was a maze of exotic plants and flowers that must have once been a giant garden. They followed a winding, overgrown path to the edge of the sound, black water lapping softly against the shore, but there was no dock and no boat. The ground was soft and marshy, and they slogged north to the next mansion, their heavy shoes becoming even heavier with mud. The next house had a narrow wooden walkway that turned into a dock, and their feet clumped loudly as they ran out over the water to a large white boat.

“Hallelujah,” Kira whispered, but Samm shook his head.

“The water level’s dropped, or the shore’s been packed with sediment. It’s sitting up on mud.”

Kira looked again and saw that the boat was listing slightly to the side, pushed up out of the water and tilted over toward one edge. “What do we do?”

“The marsh goes on forever,” said Samm, looking north. “It’s this or nothing.”

“Then we push it out,” said Jayden. He stowed his rifle over his shoulder and jumped into the water with a splash. It reached almost to his waist. He put a hand on the boat and rocked it; it didn’t move easily, but it moved. “Everybody get in here.”

Kira glanced over her shoulder nervously before jumping into the sound, gasping in shock at the cold water. The others followed, bracing their shoulders against the hull and heaving in unison. It tilted but didn’t move; Kira slipped in the mud, barely catching herself before falling face-first in the icy water.

“Again,” said Samm, setting himself firmly against the side. Everyone got into position. “One, two, three, push.” They strained against the slick side of the boat, pushing with all their strength. It moved a few inches. “Again,” said Samm. “One, two, three, push.” They shoved against the boat with everything they had, moving it another few inches—farther this time, but not far enough. “Again,” said Samm. “One, two—”

A light clicked on, blinding them—a bright white beam from a flashlight on the dock, shining against the white boat and lighting up the entire group. They froze, blinking, too shocked to move. The holder of the flashlight said nothing, simply staring, twenty yards away.

I have my gun
, thought Kira, feeling its weight on her back.
I can pull it around in seconds. But will it do any good? We can’t push this out before backup comes looking—we can’t get away even if we fight back
.

Nobody moved.

The light clicked off.

“Clear!” the silhouette shouted. It was a girl’s voice.
Yoon
. “There’s nothing here. I checked out the sound; just an old boat shifting in the waves.” The silhouette waited, watching, then turned and walked away. Kira realized she’d been holding her breath, and let it out softly.

“Was that the girl who went to Manhattan with you?” asked Marcus. “I think we owe her a cookie.”

“I think we owe her a whole damn bakery,” said Xochi. “If I wasn’t hip deep in mud, I would kiss her on the mouth.”

“Shut up,” said Jayden. “They heard us before, they’ll hear us again.” He braced himself against the boat one more time and mouthed,
One, two, three
. They pushed, moving the boat nearly a foot this time. They pushed again, then again, over and over, dragging the boat nearly twenty feet through the shallow marsh. Forty feet. Eighty feet. They could see more lights on the shore, more searchers. They pushed the boat again, forcing it through the mud, praying the soldiers wouldn’t hear them.

The water got deeper as the harbor opened up, and soon the boat was floating freely, they pushed it even farther, toward water deep enough to take their added weight. Samm helped them into the boat, then climbed in himself. Marcus and Jayden found oars, and they pushed north toward open water.

“We’re safe,” Kira sighed. Xochi was already asleep.

“Safe from your people,” said Samm, looking north toward the mainland. “Now we have to face mine.”

CHAPTER THIRTY

“W
e’re going to land near Mamaroneck,” said Samm. He squinted at the sky, then back at the distant shore. “I think.”

The bay they had left was long and thin, and they didn’t dare to try the boat’s motor until the shores on either side fell away and the dark blue sound opened up around them. It worked fitfully, but it worked, and they headed north as straight as they could until the sky began to lighten and the featureless horizon became tinged with the green and brown of the mainland. They angled toward it, curving west. Kira hoped the motor would last until they got there; she was far too tired to row.

“Mamaroneck?” asked Jayden. “That might actually be a sillier name than Asharoken.”

“Mamaroneck is a good spot,” said Samm. “It’s a little farther south than I’d like to be, but nobody’s stationed there. We should be able to land without being seen.”

“How important is it that we aren’t seen?” asked Marcus. “These different factions—are we talking about differing movie opinions or full-scale holy war opinions?”

“If they see us, they’ll attack us,” said Samm. “I’ll be imprisoned and used for leverage in one dispute or another, and I don’t know what they’ll do to you.”

Kira looked up at the stars. “I take it not all the factions are as friendly as yours.”

“Mine isn’t especially friendly either,” he said quickly. “Just because they sent a peace proposal doesn’t mean they’ll open their arms to any human that walks in. Our disagreements with the other factions are … heated, and that’s made us cautious, and over time that’s made us suspicious. We still have to approach carefully.”

“How can we tell the factions apart?” asked Xochi. “Do you have different uniforms, or… I don’t know, different-colored hats?”

“I don’t know if you can without the link,” said Samm. “My faction is called D Company, and most of us still wear that insignia, but honestly by the time you’re that close it’s probably too late. We’re talking about a war zone.”

The motor cut out again, sputtering to a stop. Jayden stood up, yanking on the pull cord a few useless times, then hit it with a wrench and yanked again. The motor came back on with a sound even feebler than before.

“Old gas,” said Jayden, throwing the wrench back into the bottom of the boat. “It’s either killing the engine or running out. Either way we’re going to end up rowing the last mile or two.”

“Who are we going to run into?” asked Kira, looking at Samm. “How much of a war zone are we talking about?”

“The main group of rebels is north,” said Samm, “in a place called White Plains, and beyond that in Indian Point. They’re the ones who run the reactor.”

“Whoa,” said Xochi, “a nuclear reactor?”

“Of course,” said Samm. “How else would we get our energy?”

“Solar panels,” said Xochi simply. “That’s what we use.”

“And it’s probably sufficient for your needs,” said Samm. “The nuclear plant in Indian Point used to power hundreds of millions of homes before the war—now that there’s not much more than a million of us left, it generates more than enough for anything we could ever need. The rebels maintain it. D Company found a way to tap into it a few years ago, and they still haven’t noticed.”

“But nuclear power is dangerous,” said Xochi. “What if something happens? What if it leaks or melts down or whatever?”

“A lot of them did,” said Samm. “When RM hit and the humans started dying—when you really started to disappear, and we knew there was nothing we could do to stop it—we found as many nuclear plants as we could and then shut them down safely. There’s another one in Connecticut, just sixty miles away from you guys across the sound.” He pointed to the northeast. “If that had gone into meltdown, you’d probably all be dead.”

“Right,” said Jayden derisively. “The noble Partials trying to save mankind.”

Samm nodded. “Haven’t you ever wondered why the world isn’t more messed up than it is? Why the cities aren’t burning, why the air isn’t black with nuclear fallout? You died too quickly—some of you had time to shut off the power plants and the factories before you disappeared, but not everyone, and all it takes is one unattended reactor to cause a lethal meltdown. Even when we realized what was happening, we couldn’t shut them all down; we lost one in New Jersey, and another in Philadelphia, and more and more as you move west across the continent. That’s why we tend to stay east of the Hudson. Other parts of the world had even more reactors than we did, but without an army of Partials to step in and stop them, we think a lot more of them may have gone critical. Maybe as many as half.”