He turned and ran, catching up to Haru at the base of the stairs. They ran up, testing the door cautiously before opening it into a wide school hallway. There didn’t seem to be any Partials, and Haru pointed at a pair of loosely hanging doors. “There.”

They ran out of the south side of the building, sprinting across the open street to the cover of a residential street beyond. No shouts rose behind them, no bullets flew past their heads. Marcus swerved around a corner, Haru close behind with Izzy on his shoulders; he lifted the radio to his mouth and screamed into it as he ran.

“Kira? Kira, can you hear me? What’s going on?”

“How old was I when you met me?” said Kira’s voice. “Go that many channels up.”

Five, Marcus thought, we met in school the first year here. He set it for five, then paused. They didn’t organize a school the first year here. I met her when we were six. He flipped the channel dial one more slot up. “What’s going on?”

“This is a trick that will only work once,” said Kira. “They’re listening to your frequencies, but I’m listening to theirs; I told you there was a Grid battalion close by, and I had a friend here give them a false report with the same information. The two Partials hunting you have fallen back, but they won’t stay gone long, and the battalion to your south is at least six miles away. You have to get there fast, because they are hunting you specifically and they will come after you when the realize they’ve been tricked.”

“So—” He slowed, trying to catch his breath. “What do I do now?”

“I’ll help you as much as I can,” said Kira, “but we don’t have a lot of options. We’ve been listening to Morgan’s communication, and here’s the bad news: They’re not just invading the island, they’re conquering it. Inside of two days, every human on Long Island will be a Partial prisoner.”

PART 2

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

The first alarm sounded at four in the morning. Afa had rigged the first-floor doors and windows with small electric alarms, wired to his bedroom and a few of the main research rooms, and the small jingle woke Kira almost instantly. She was still on the couch in the film studio, where she’d been for just over a week—the most permanent sleeping arrangements she’d had in ages. The alarms were persistent but quiet, designed to alert the occupants without letting the intruders know that anything was amiss. Kira was on her feet in seconds, pulling on her shoes and then grabbing her gun. If she had to flee, those were the essentials.

Of course, with Afa poised to blow up the entire building, even fleeing barefoot and unarmed wasn’t the worst-case scenario.