“Intentions are all I have left,” she said at last. “We’re going to go there, and whatever we find, it’ll be more than we have now. At least there’s a chance. At least . . .” She trailed off. She had run out of words.

“You’re out of your mind,” Heron said again, but stopped when Kira turned away and sat, collapsing in a heap as her legs buckled. She lay down on the floor of the shed and wished she could cry.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

Haru Sato slunk through the warren of tunnels under JFK, keeping far from the other soldiers when he could, and nodding to them passively when the tight hallways made it impossible to keep his distance. He kept his weather-beaten hat pulled low over his face, avoiding eye contact, hoping no one would talk to him or ask where he was going. If they found out he’d fled his unit, he’d be arrested—or worse. It was not a good time to be a traitor.

Mr. Mkele’s office was in the middle of a long hall, what looked like it used to be a shipping office, now converted to the last, dying nerve center of human civilization. Morgan’s forces had taken East Meadow, had rounded up every other human they could find on the island; in a matter of days, they would come for this hideout and the human world would end. Their time as the dominant species was over. And what pitiful resistance they could mount was managed out of this failing office.

Well, thought Haru, this office and Delarosa’s roving base camp. And Delarosa’s more dangerous than we ever knew.

A single soldier stood guard in front of the closed office door, his uniform wrinkled and dirty. There was no time for pleasantries anymore. Haru glanced up and down the hall, seeing it relatively empty; most of the remaining Grid soldiers were upstairs on defense, or out in the wilderness attacking Morgan’s flanks. For the moment, Haru and the guard were alone. Haru glanced around again, set his resolve, and walked toward him.

“Mr. Mkele is busy at the moment,” said the guard.

“Let me ask you a question,” said Haru, stepping in close. At the last minute he turned to the right and lifted his arm, like he was pointing at something, and as the guard turned his head to follow, Haru slammed his knee into the man’s gut, bringing his left arm behind to catch the rifle slung over the man’s shoulder. The guard reached for it, still doubled over and too shocked to breath, but Haru maneuvered him swiftly into place for another knee, in the face this time, and the man collapsed. Haru opened the door, shoved the unconscious man through it, and stepped in after him. Mkele leapt to his feet, but Haru had already locked the door tightly.