chapter FORTY-FIVE
Ariel was surviving the Partial occupation the same way she survived everything: by being alone. The conquering army had scared many of East Meadow’s residents into community shelters, clustering together for strength, and stockpiling their food and water in a single place. This had only made them easier to capture when the Partials started raiding the city, swooping in to snatch victims and then carrying them off for experiments or executions, it was impossible to tell which anymore. The groups’ sheer size and noise made them easy to find and prey on, and really, no amount of untrained civilians could fend off a Partial attack. With Marcus gone, Ariel stayed on her own, moving from house to house, eating food left behind by others and always staying one step ahead of the raiders. It had kept her hidden, and it had kept her safe.
Until the Partials found her.
Ariel gasped for breath, struggling to keep going. She knew the city like the back of her hand, but the Partials were faster than she was, their senses keener. She could hear their feet pounding on the road behind her, heavy boots slamming down, one after another, a relentless rhythm getting closer and closer with each gasping breath. She dodged to the left through a gap in a fence, cutting right and then doubling back to the left again, around another wooden fence. Her feet were quieter than theirs, barely a whisper in the darkness, and she held her breath as she tiptoed through the grass, her eyes straining in the dim light for any twig or branch or bottle she might step on and give herself away. She heard one set of heavy footprints run past her, crashing through the hole in the fence and thrashing wildly through the yard beyond. The second pair followed, and she nodded. Just one more. Just one more Partial fooled and I’m free. She crept forward silently, almost to the end of the grass; there she would slip down a stairway to a basement safe house she’d used a time or two before, and hide there until the raiders gave up and left in search of easier prey. All she had to do was make it to the stairs—
The third set of Partial footsteps stopped, nearly even with her on the far side of the double fence. Ariel froze, not moving, not making a sound, not even breathing. The Partial took a step in one direction and stopped. Back in the other direction, and stopped. What is he doing? But even as she asked the question, she knew, somehow, what he was doing. He had stopped because he had spotted something. And he knew where she had gone.
She heard a deep chuckle. “Oh, you’re good,” the Partial laughed, and vaulted the fence directly toward her. Ariel cursed under her breath and sprinted again, all thoughts of stealth gone in a flat-out race for survival. The Partial vaulted the second fence and ran after her, just a few yards behind, almost close enough to stretch forward and grab her by the neck. Ariel ran as fast as she could, her mind trying desperately to figure out how he’d found her—she’d been quiet, she’d been hidden, she’d done everything she’d learned to do, and yet it was like he’d known she was there, almost like a sixth sense. Marcus had told her about their link, and the way it let them find one another, but everything he’d said told her that it wouldn’t work on humans—that humans were a blind spot in a sensory system they relied on too much. She’d used that to her advantage before, and it had always worked. How had she given herself away?
The Partial was almost on her, his heavy breathing sounding so loud in her ears, she thought for sure he must be only inches behind her, toying with her. She could smell his sweat, and the sour stink of his breath in the air. That’s it, she thought, it’s my scent. I’ve been running so hard, and hiding so long, I must stink. He didn’t see me or hear me or feel me on the link, he smelled me, like a bloodhound.
But I’m not giving up.
She lowered her head, pushing herself into the hardest sprint of her life, when suddenly her body went into a spasm and she sprawled forward on the ground, rolling end over end as her muscles failed her, and her inertia carried her in a tumbling crash. Her senses flickered and jumped; the world was upside down and backward. She struggled to right herself, but her entire body throbbed in pain. It was like she’d been hit full force with a baseball bat, but she couldn’t tell from where. Slowly her eyes focused, and she saw the Partial standing over her with a shock stick; he clicked it a few times, letting bright blue light arc back and forth between the contacts.
“You’re a fighter,” he said, dropping the stick back into a ring on his belt. He knelt down and smiled, his teeth flashing white in the moonlight. “I might have to have a little fun before I turn you in to the boss.” Ariel tried to move, but her limbs still wouldn’t obey her. The Partial reached for her neck.
“Stop,” said a voice, and the Partial froze. His hand hovered inches from Ariel’s face, motionless. “Stand up,” said the voice again, a woman’s voice, but Ariel couldn’t see the speaker. There was something familiar about it, but she couldn’t place it. The Partial stood, staring blankly forward. “Pull out your weapon.” The Partial obeyed. “Shock yourself.” The Partial clicked the shock stick on, raising it toward his own chest, but stopped a few inches away. His eyes seemed harder now, as if he was struggling, and Ariel could see sweat pouring down his face. “Do it!” the voice commanded, and the Partial’s defenses collapsed. He slammed the taser into his own chest, falling instantly to the ground, his limbs flailing as his nervous system short-circuited. Somehow his hand managed to keep the taser pressed to his chest, even as the rest of his body twitched and jumped, until finally he lost all control and slumped into unconsciousness. The taser fell inert to the ground.
It’s Dr. Morgan, thought Ariel, still trying to move. She managed to get one arm under her, raising her head slightly off the ground, but her vision swam and she struggled to stay up. When Morgan was controlling Samm, that same thing happened—that was exactly how Marcus and Xochi described it. Dr. Morgan’s here. She has come for me herself, like a vampire in the night. She got her other arm under her and lurched up, still woozy, her eyes wandering in and out of focus. She turned and saw a figure in the darkness behind her, but her leg throbbed and she couldn’t run. “Dr. Morgan,” she croaked, but her voice wouldn’t obey, and the words were meaningless mush. The figured stepped into the moonlight.
It was an old woman, hunched and dark, not a vampire but a wild-haired witch.
“You,” said Ariel.
“Hello, child,” said Nandita. “Come, we must find your sisters. Our world is about to end again.”