Kira pulled out her weapons and other gear, stripping herself of almost every piece of equipment she had; the men in the group eventually started helping, resigned to the fact that the decision had been made. Marcus wasn’t happy about it, but he wasn’t doing anything to stop it, either. The last piece of equipment was the syringe, wrapped tightly and padded with old shirts, tied firmly to an extra belt inside every other layer of clothing. She took it off, held it a moment, and handed it to Marcus.

“Take care of this,” she whispered.

“I don’t want you to do this.”

“I don’t either,” she said, “but it has to be done.”

Marcus stared into her eyes, saying nothing, then took the belt and tied it carefully under his shirt. He made sure his clothes covered it, then smeared his face with dirt, altering his complexion enough that the nurses at the hospital might not recognize him. Might. Jayden and Xochi did the same, and Kira hoped it would be enough. I just have to make sure everyone is looking at me.

Chapter Thirty-Eight

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

Kira twisted and pulled, screaming as they carried her toward the first row of guards. “You have to let me go! I’m trying to help you, you idiots, can’t you see that?” The time for stealth was long past: Her job now was to be as visible as possible so that no one looked closely at her friends. She ripped her arm loose from Farad’s grip and attacked Jayden with it, trying to make it look as convincing as she could; he responded in kind by slugging her in the side of the head, then curling her arm behind her in a sudden choke hold that held her completely immobile. “Oof,” she grunted, “nice one.”

“Shut up, Voice.” He dragged her around and cursed at Farad. “That’s how you hold a prisoner, blowhole. Now don’t let go again.”

“I think you’re breaking my arm,” said Kira.

“Good,” said Xochi, loud enough for the nearest group of soldiers to hear it. The group called out, but Xochi stepped up before they could say any more. “We caught her!” she said, waving the broken radio like a trophy. “Hurry, clear us a path to the Senate—I don’t want any civilians getting close enough to try anything.”

The sergeant of the other group hesitated. “Who do you have?”

“Kira Walker,” said Xochi. “In the flesh—she was part of that group that tried to jump the border. See for yourself.” She gestured to Kira, who stared back proudly.

“Holy crap,” said the sergeant, coming closer and peering at her carefully. It wasn’t anyone Kira knew, but he nodded. “That’s definitely her.” He paused a moment, then spit in her face. “My best friend was killed by the Voice, bitch.”