From around me rear of the last bus, Seeks-the-Moon came walking slowly. Even through Kyle's pain he could see that the spirit was weakened, maybe irrevocably-he'd fought one of the insect spirits toe to toe and maybe won, barely.

"Beth… Natalie…" Kyle gasped, his legs suddenly giving way. Seeks-the-Moon reached out to hold him up, saying, "They weren't on the bus."

Not on the bus. They weren't on Seeks-the-Moon's bus, the first bus. They weren't on Kyle's bus, the last one. That meant they'd been on the second bus. The bus that had exploded.

Kyle collapsed, falling forward and barely supported by the spirit. There was nothing. Nothing to feel, only the pain.

"They weren't on any of the buses," the spirit whispered. "I was on all of them."

Kyle turned his head slightly and was startled by what he saw. The depth of compassion in the eyes of his former ally spirit was unfathomable. "None of the buses…” Kyle mumbled, almost unable to speak. His right leg wanted to collapse, but he wouldn't let it.

"They were on none of me three buses. I didn't see them."

Kyle nodded. He needed to heal himself, but carefully; there were pains in his stomach mat were dangerous. He tried to key his communication link with Ravenheart and then stopped, realizing his helmet had been torn from his head by the bug or during me crash.

"We have to lead these people away from here," the spirit said.

"Yes, there might be radiation…" Kyle pulled himself up and stood again on his own. "That way." He pointed across the bridge past the other bus. “Toward Chinatown"

"There's no radiation," said Seeks-the-Moon.

Kyle looked at the spirit again, trying to place what was so different about him. "There's got to be radiation. The bomb went off."

"Obviously," the spirit said. "But there is no radiation." He fingered a small badge of plastic dangling from Kyle's body armor. It was battered, but it was still green. "See."

Kyle looked down at it. "How the frag…"

"The bomb went off inside the insect's ward. And I think most of it was held there."

Kyle turned to look back that way and saw a woman standing a few meters distant. She was battered and bruised, her once-stylish short blond hair matted with drying blood, the left side of her pale face dark and swollen. She was pulling a long, torn purple raincoat tight about her and Kyle could see she was favoring her left arm.

"Kyle?" She said in a hoarse voice, taking a half-step forward.

"Oh my God…" he said, reaching out his good arm toward her. She stumbled against him and he ignored the pain in his arm and shoulder as he wrapped it around her and pulled her close. Hanna Uljaken began to cry, and after a moment he did too.