Ruins

Breezy Point consisted of a short forest, about as narrow as the rest of the peninsula had been, terminating in a more bulbous point that seemed to be covered beach to beach in thousands of houses, packed together with nothing but narrow roads—and sometimes simply narrow sand pathways—between them. The air over the city was a gray pall of smoke from hundreds of chimneys, and the snow beneath was almost black from the ash and churned mud. The southern beach was thronged with people, and the ocean was dotted with a thin line of white sailboats, stretching out toward the distant line of the Jersey shore. Kira could see cook-fire smoke there, too, and she clenched her jaw, grateful. Even if the rest of us die, some of them have already gotten away.

Kira made sure her refugees had food and shelter, then left them in the outpost and struck out the last few miles with Marcus, Samm, and the rest of the group from the Preserve. She wanted to take Green as well, but he was in and out of consciousness, and the best she could do for him at this point was to keep him warm and surrounded by humans. If the interactive cure was going to kick in, this was its last chance. It occurred to her that with less than three days left until the next batch of expirations, that might explain the Partial army’s sudden lack of pursuit. She was caring for one failing soldier with the dim hope that he would recover; they were caring for thousands, with no hope at all.

Will that calm them? she wondered. Force them to slow down and take stock and reevaluate their attack?

Or will it just make them more vengeful?

A pair of men met them on the outskirts of the town, wrapped in ponchos made from blankets and carrying a well-worn ledger. “We didn’t think anyone else was going to make it. I’m Gage.” The leader of the men shook Kira’s hand. “Come on back to the border post; we’ll get you warmed up and figure out where to put you while you wait for a boat.”

“Who’s in charge?” asked Kira. “We need to talk to . . . the Senate, I guess? Is Kessler here? Hobb?”

“Neither have checked in,” said Gage. “Haru Sato’s been organizing everything.”

“Perfect,” said Marcus. “I was hoping we’d get to deal with someone talky and self-important, so this works out great.”

“You know him?” asked Gage.

“We’re old friends,” said Kira. “I’m Kira Walker.” She saw the same glimmer of surprise and recognition, and nodded. Is this going to be a thing now? “Yes,” she said, “that one. Can you take us to Haru?”

“Let me get you squared away first,” said Gage, scanning his ledger as they walked. “Looks like . . . ten of you?”

“With three hundred more in the outpost behind us,” said Kira. “They’ll be arriving tomorrow.”

“Wow.” Gage flipped more pages, studied one for a moment, then gestured to his companion. “Tell Kyle to get the West Twelfth open, we’ll start putting them there.” The man ran ahead, and Gage asked them more questions: how much food they’d brought with them; how many injured; how many who could care for the sick or crew a boat. Kira was reassured to see the evacuation being managed so efficiently, but it didn’t lessen her concerns—efficient wasn’t the same as safe. She walked faster, spurring Gage to hurry, and he led them through the snowy, soot-stained streets to an old construction warehouse in the center of town, which the refugees had converted to a command center. Haru was inside.

“Kira! Marcus!” He ran to them, wrapping them in a hug. “Madison will be so glad you’re alive. She’s already crossed with Arwen—we didn’t want to risk losing our little girl, she’s practically the species mascot at this point.” He looked at Heron and the others, and his voice became more serious. “I don’t know the rest of you, but welcome to Breezy Point. We think we have another good four days before we’re all across, and there are already scouts pushing south and west, looking for the best routes to—don’t move!” He barked the command abruptly, drawing his handgun so fast Kira barely even saw it. Haru was staring at Samm, pointing the gun straight at his chest. “Dammit, Kira, you brought a Partial?”

“I brought several,” said Kira firmly, watching a group of surprised local guards draw their weapons. “Haru, this group has more Partials in it than not—including me.”

He stepped back, giving himself a wider angle on the group as a whole, but his grim face faltered. “I . . . heard as much from Nandita.”

“Nandita’s alive?”

“She was traveling east, before the snow, trying to save Isolde’s baby—”

“Isolde had her baby?” Kira cried. “Where are they?”

“They were headed east, to Plum Island,” said Haru. “Hobb and Kessler and Xochi were with them. Nandita thought she could save the baby, but we haven’t heard anything since. I . . . At this point we have to assume they didn’t make it.”