LITMIR.BIZ

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again, desperately sucking in air, she smelled the acrid stench of her own charred flesh. Her eyes focused slowly, and she saw that the door was open now, just a few inches, and an eye was peeking through—two eyes, one white and one black.

      Not an eye, she thought, her brain like mush. It’s the barrel of a gun.

      The door rocked slightly, shoved uselessly against the pile of rubble by the soldiers beyond. It didn’t budge. “It’s the girl. Is anyone else alive in there?”

      “You have to help me,” she croaked. “My heart is stopping.”

      “Can you see the prisoner? Has he already escaped?”

      “The beats are . . . too erratic,” she said, feeling her body start to shut down—her muscles, her heart, her lungs slowly fading into nothing. “You have to help me. One more shock . . . and I’m . . . .”

      She heard voices—shouting and screaming that seemed a hundred miles away. A warm breeze blew softly across her face, and she opened her eyes. The world was a formless blur, and yet something was there, moving, and suddenly the pressure on her legs was gone. The massive DORD machine flew across the room; the world rang in her ears. Strong arms pulled her clear of the wreckage, and she tried to focus. Someone was holding her, carrying her, checking her for wounds.

      “Thank you,” she coughed. Her voice was so quiet she could barely hear it herself. She clung to her rescuer tightly. “I think . . . he got away.”

      “I’m right here, Kira.”

      I know that voice.

      She struggled to think, straining her eyes, and slowly the world came into focus: Samm was holding her, his clothes still smoking from the explosion, the tattered restraints hanging useless from his arms. Around them the room was destroyed, the floor covered with rubble, the wall a gaping hole. The trees swayed in the wind. The crumpled mass of the DORD machine lay discarded in the corner; Shaylon lay in the other corner, bloody and still.

      She looked up at Samm. “You saved me.”

      The door finally wrenched open, and soldiers poured in like a flood. “Put her down!”

      “He saved me.”

      “Put her down now!”

      Samm knelt, laying Kira gently on the floor. As soon as she was clear, the soldiers sprang forward and knocked him down with the butts of their rifles. Kira tried to speak, struggling to protest, but she was too weak. All she could do was watch.

      

      The room was dark. Hospital equipment beeped softly, tiny lights blinking on and off in the shadows. Kira opened her eyes, then closed them, gasping, her mind still full of pain and light, as if she were still in the midst of the explosion.

      Samm saved me.

      The soldiers had beaten Samm for almost a full minute before chaining him back up, kicking him in the stomach and hammering him with their rifles. He never fought back—he didn’t run when he had the chance, and then he didn’t fight back, he just let them hit him, over and over, an agonizing string of thuds and cracks and grunts of pain.

      He’s a Partial, she told herself. She had told herself the same thing a hundred times over the past three days. He’s not even human. We don’t know what he’s doing here, what he’s thinking, what he’s plotting. And yet even as she said it, she knew she didn’t believe it. He wanted the same thing she did: to solve their problems instead of just working around them. On the entire island he was the only one she’d found who agreed with her.

      But he was a Partial.

      Kira tried to sit up, but a pain in her leg knocked her breath away. The same leg she’d had burned by the DORD machine. She moved the blanket for a better look, but was bandaged and she couldn’t see it well. She could recognize the itchy burn of her muscle fibers knitting back together, and knew she’d been treated with a regen box. It would be a while before she was well enough to sit up, let alone stand or walk.

      She heard a soft sigh and looked across the room at another hospital bed. There were more than enough rooms in the hospital, but only enough juice to power a few floors, so most patients were doubled up. She peered closer at the shape in the bed, nearly faceless in the dim light, and realized with a start that it was Shaylon. He must have been shattered by the explosion—the way he was bandaged, he must have had dozens of broken bones, and hundreds of cuts and abrasions from the shrapnel.

      His breaths were small and feeble, but he was breathing on his own, and he appeared stable. It looked like he was going to pull through.

      He’d seen the Predator in the blood, and he’d heard her speculations on its nature. Had she given too much away? Had she exposed too many secrets? The island was ready to burst into flames at the slightest spark; when he wakes up, please let him keep quiet.

      Kira heard footsteps in the hallway and looked at the door just in time to see it open.

      “You’re awake,” said Nurse Hardy.

      “What happened?” Kira demanded. “How long was I out?” She stopped short when she saw the nurse wheel another bed into the room. It was Madison. Kira sat up quickly, gasping at the stab of pain in her leg.

      “Madison, are you all right?”

      “She went into early labor,” said Nurse Hardy. “We managed to stop it, but I don’t know if she’s going to make it much further.”

      “I’ll be fine,” said Madison. She looked over at Kira. “They won’t even let me sit up anymore, let alone walk. Let alone use the bathroom.”

      “Just stay calm and rest,” said Nurse Hardy. “We’ll keep you in here for a few hours while you recover, and then we’ll see if we can take you back to your regular room. You have to relax.”

      “I’ll relax,” said Madison dutifully. “I’ll stare at the ceiling and won’t move a muscle.”

      “You should sleep,” said Nurse Hardy. She glanced over at Kira. “And you should too. You were only asleep for a few hours, and your body needs rest. Let’s have a look at your leg.” She pulled back the sheet over Kira’s legs and lifted up the edge of the bandage; Kira held her breath, trying not to react to the pain as the moving bandage tugged at her burn. Nurse Hardy tutted disapprovingly at the palm-size patch of blackened skin, gooey with burn cream and antiseptic. “It’s healing, but it’s a nasty burn. We’ve already used a regen box on it just a few hours ago, so we’ll have to wait awhile before another treatment.”

      “Thanks,” said Kira, gasping softly as the nurse gently laid the bandage back down.

      “Go to sleep,” said Nurse Hardy, “both of you.” She left the room, quietly closing the door behind her. Kira looked at Madison’s outline in the darkness.

      “Mads, do you know what happened up there? Was it the Voice?”

      “It must have been, but I don’t know much more than you do. There was an explosion. Someone got through the security perimeter.”

      Kira hesitated. “And Samm?”

      “Samm?”

      “The Partial.”

      Madison gave her an odd look. “I’m sorry, Kira, I don’t know. I had more problems with the abruption, and I was getting examined when the explosion hit. I haven’t been able to move, much less talk to anyone who has any idea what’s going on.”

      Kira fell back into her pillow, grunting at the release of tension in her burned leg. “I can’t be here. I have to find out what’s happening.”

      “You and me both.”

      Kira laughed dryly. “Sounds like you’re just as bad off as I am.”

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