Back Ruins
Chapters (62)
  1. Dedication
  2. Contents
  3. Part 1
  4. Chapter One
  5. Chapter Two
  6. Chapter Three
  7. Chapter Four
  8. Chapter Five
  9. Chapter Six
  10. Chapter Seven
  11. Chapter Eight
  12. Chapter Nine
  13. Chapter Ten
  14. Chapter Eleven
  15. Chapter Twelve
  16. Chapter Thirteen
  17. Chapter Fourteen
  18. Chapter Fifteen
  19. Chapter Sixteen
  20. Chapter Seventeen
  21. Chapter Eighteen
  22. Chapter Nineteen
  23. Chapter Twenty
  24. Chapter Twenty-one
  25. Part 2
  26. Chapter Twenty-two
  27. Chapter Twenty-three
  28. Chapter Twenty-four
  29. Chapter Twenty-five
  30. Chapter Twenty-six
  31. Chapter Twenty-seven
  32. Chapter Twenty-eight
  33. Chapter Twenty-nine
  34. Chapter Thirty
  35. Chapter Thirty-one
  36. Chapter Thirty-two
  37. Chapter Thirty-three
  38. Chapter Thirty-four
  39. Chapter Thirty-five
  40. Chapter Thirty-six
  41. Chapter Thirty-seven
  42. Part 3
  43. Chapter Thirty-eight
  44. Chapter Thirty-nine
  45. Chapter Forty
  46. Chapter Forty-one
  47. Chapter Forty-two
  48. Chapter Forty-three
  49. Chapter Forty-four
  50. Chapter Forty-five
  51. Chapter Forty-six
  52. Chapter Forty-seven
  53. Chapter Forty-eight
  54. Chapter Forty-nine
  55. Chapter Fifty
  56. Chapter Fifty-one
  57. Acknowledgments
  58. About the Author
  59. Back Ad
  60. Credits
  61. Copyright
  62. About the Publisher

“Disengage that last hose,” said Heron. Her voice sounded tinny and distant through the radio, and Samm bristled again at the oddness of trying to communicate without the link. Partials used pheromonal communication because it was efficient, folding words and emotions and tactical information into a single, silent package. Working side by side, yet communicating solely through the radios in their helmets, felt like being deaf and mute. He still didn’t understand how humans did it.

As difficult as dealing with the repurposed diving gear was, though, it was necessary. If either of them breathed a whiff of the air in the laboratory, they’d be unconscious in seconds.

Samm slowly disengaged the final hose from the unconscious Partial’s odd metal face mask. There were ten comatose Partials here in Dr. Vale’s old laboratory, fast asleep in a secret subbasement of the Preserve. Vale had kept them here, unconscious, for thirteen years, tending them like plants and harvesting the Lurker pheromone from their bodies—an engineered chemical, naturally produced by all Partials, which served as the only known cure for RM. These Partials had kept the humans of the Preserve alive for over a decade, allowing them to raise healthy children—something the humans on Long Island had been completely unable to do. These ten Partials—But no, Samm corrected himself, these nine Partials. These nine Partials had given the Preserve a life and hope no other human had felt since the end of the world. Maybe even before that. They were saviors. But they were unwitting, unwilling, unconscious saviors, and Samm could not allow that to continue. The tenth Partial, this last one with the odd-looking face mask, had been modified by Dr. Vale to produce a different pheromone: one that would instantly render any Partial comatose. His mere proximity was a weapon.

Samm and Heron were disconnecting him, but they still had no idea what to do with him.

“That hose was pumping his sedative throughout the building,” said Heron. “Now that we’ve cut off his access, the effect should be limited to his immediate presence.”