Ruins

If I can make it to the water, I might have a chance, he told himself. Maybe I can find a boat, or a piece of driftwood big enough to keep my head above water. Maybe I can just hide somewhere, and stay there for a week or whatever it takes. He chanced a look back over his shoulder and was encouraged to find that he was still alone. They would find him eventually, but finding him would hold their attention. That was the goal. Anything that keeps them here, on me, so the others can get out of East Meadow and off the island.

I knew I was going to die when I signed up for this, he thought. Dad always told me never to volunteer for anything—you’d think I’d learn to listen—

A light flared in front of him, bright and white and blinding. He stumbled on his bad foot, turning to flee, but something slapped into his back, sharp and painful like a sting from a giant bee. He dropped instantly, his body convulsing as a jolt of electric current ran through it. When his mind cleared he was lying on the ground, his face in a grassy gutter, his limbs twisted like a rag doll and completely immobile. He tried to talk, but his mouth felt like lead.

The Partials don’t use stun guns, he thought. Who has the electricity to spare for a stun gun?

A pair of hands, surprisingly gentle, turned him over. The man standing over him was a dark silhouette, framed by the bright lights behind, and Tovar couldn’t discern any features. “I want you to know that this is not an attack,” said the man. His voice was soft, with a nuance of expression that marked the speaker as human. Tovar tried to answer, but his jaw moved feebly, and no sound came out. “This will hurt you,” said the man, “but it will save you, in the larger sense. ‘You’ as a people. The human race.”

The man set a plastic case on the ground next to him, opening it with a click. Tovar couldn’t see what was inside, but the shadowy man pulled out a glass jar and unsealed the lid. “Everyone is going to die. I assume that’s not a surprise.” He set the open jar on the ground and reached back into the case to pull out a long, sharp knife. Tovar tried to move, but he was still paralyzed. “I say that to let you know that you dying right here, right now, is an honor. You were going to die anyway, but it would have been meaningless in any other circumstance. This way you can be a part of the new beginning. The new life that will replace the old. Little sting here.” The man placed the knife on Tovar’s hand and pressed down, chopping off his longest finger. Tovar screamed in his mind, the pain burning through him like a fire, but no sound came out. The man dropped the finger into the jar, and went to work on another one. “There was a plan, you realize, for everyone to survive.” Chop. “Not just survive but prosper—human and Partial, everyone together. It wouldn’t have been hard. But that plan’s gone now, and I’ve had to adapt.” Chop. His voice remained calm the entire time, as if he were simply talking to a toaster while methodically taking it apart. “Now, this is the part that’s going to hurt the most. Speaking biologically, I mean—I don’t know if it will cause more pain than the fingers, but it will certainly cause more damage. This is the part you won’t live through, is what I mean to say.” He held up the jar and shook it gently, rattling the three fingers at the bottom. “I need to fill the rest of this with blood.”

Tovar’s voice returned just in time for him to scream.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

Kira was colder than she’d ever been. They’d stopped in a town called Brewster Hill for rest and new clothes, and then again in North Salem for warmer clothes and jackets, but even that wasn’t proving to be enough. Green was more resistant to the effects of the weather, and faster on the road, but even he was feeling it now. They’d gone nearly thirty miles in three days, all the way to Norwalk, and in that time the temperature had dropped twenty degrees at least. Kira was accustomed to a bit of a chill in the winter months, but nothing like this. Her breath came out in visible puffs, and her nose felt numb as she rubbed it with red, tingling fingers.