Partials

“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.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

“Same old, same old,” he said, clenching his teeth at the thundering booms that shook the walls and ceiling. “How about you?”

Kira nodded. “The cure’s okay?” She felt for it on Marcus’s waist, brushing his fingers briefly as he did the same. The syringe was intact and the padding was dry; nothing had broken or leaked out. She left her hand there for a moment longer, looking into Marcus’s eyes.

“I’m sorry,” she said softly. Xochi screamed defiantly behind them, ducking back to reload while Farad took up the fight.

“What, this?” asked Marcus, gesturing around. “Don’t worry about it—happens all the time.”

“You wanted to live in peace,” said Kira, loading fresh shells into her shotgun. “That’s all you’ve ever wanted, just the two of us together, and I wanted it too, but I—”

“I know,” said Marcus, all joking gone from his voice. “I wanted everything to stay the same, but you wanted things to be better. And you were right, and it’s going to be better, it’s just … going to be a whole lot worse for a while first. And I think I knew that, and I was scared of it.”

Farad grunted behind them, not a scream but a soft, guttural moan, and his body fell to the ground. Xochi cried out, and Kira turned pale at the sight, dragging him back out of the line of fire. Marcus felt his neck for a pulse, bending close to listen for breathing, but there was too much blood—there was no way he was still alive. Marcus shook his head, confirming her fears. “He’s gone.”

“What now?” asked Jayden. The hallways was eerily quiet now that no one was shooting, though faint sounds drifted in from the distance: muted screams and pops of gunfire from the outer grounds; wails of patients trapped and helpless in the hospital; desperate screams of tiny infants, burning alive as the fever ate their bodies. The four friends crouched in the room, trembling and terrified. Kira looked through the door, but all she could see were a few narrow feet of the opposite wall. Not knowing what was out there made her feel blind and deaf. Jayden reloaded his gun quickly and efficiently, though Kira could see his fingers shaking with fatigue and adrenaline. “One more on our list of failed plans,” he said. “We couldn’t sneak in, we’re sure as hell not sneaking back out again, and there’s no point dragging you up to the Senate. Straight to maternity?”