Dan Wells - Partials series 1-3

“You remember where that loading dock is?” whispered Marcus.

“Sort of.”

“Awesome.”

Kira found the door out of the shaft and turned off her light before opening it, wary of attracting unwanted attention. The hall was dark and empty, and she turned the light back on, covering it with her hand; it glowed soft and red, giving just enough light to see the walls. “This way.” They crept cautiously down the hall. A string of footsteps echoed behind them, rubber shoes squeaking against the linoleum, and then they were gone. Kira held her breath and kept walking. They came to a crossroads and she uncovered her flashlight, risking the full beam: nothing to the left, but sudden faces on the right, eyes shining in the darkness.

Kira reared back, but Samm dove forward, one of the intruders falling limply to the floor before she even knew what was happening. The bright beam of the flashlight shook wildly as she staggered away, and the hallway became a staccato slide show of darkness and terror: Samm’s foot in the side of a screaming man’s knee, Samm’s rifle butt buried in another man’s face. Lances of light strobed across a Grid insignia on a flailing arm, droplets of blood hanging in the air, a man half fallen as he tried to flee. Jayden brought up his rifle at the same time Kira regained control of the flashlight, and by then it was over: Samm stood motionless, poised for a counterattack, and the floor around him was littered with fallen soldiers. Kira counted six men, all unconscious.

“Holy . . . ,” muttered Jayden, staring at the scene. He pointed his rifle at Samm. “What did we let out?”

“None of them are dead,” said Samm. “The blood is from the third one’s nose.”

Kira tried to gather her thoughts. “What just happened?”

Samm dropped to the floor to gather their guns, disassembling them with practiced efficiency. “I’m not used to humans, so I was relying too heavily on the link and they got too close. I think it worked out, though, since we didn’t have to shoot anyone.”

“Well, thanks for not shooting anyone, I guess,” said Marcus. “My contribution was to somehow refrain from peeing myself. You can thank me later.”

“We need to go,” said Samm, standing up; he held the fallen soldiers’ firing pins, and dropped them into his pocket. “There are at least two more groups down here, and maybe more that I can’t hear.”

“Okay,” said Kira slowly, “just . . . don’t do that to any civilians.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Kira led the group to the left, then to the right, pausing here and there to read signs on the walls and to listen for more footsteps. There were at least two other groups in the basement, prowling and shouting and cackling in the darkness. She heard a crash of breaking glass. She pressed forward.

She found a wide tunnel capped by a high metal door, and broke into a jog. “This is it—there’s a big ramp on the other side that leads up to the rear parking lot. We head north and we watch for patrols—the Defense Grid will be everywhere, but they’ll be distracted. As long as we don’t call any attention to ourselves, we should be able to slip through the gaps.” She turned to Jayden. “Thanks for your help—we would never have gotten out of there without you.”

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