Hell Divers V: Captives

by Nicholas Sansbury Smith

  He dropped the screwdriver and reached out his battered hand. And in an old-world tradition, they shook, sealing the deal.

  * * * * *

  Magnolia wasn’t sure that Sofia was still alive. Her head was slumped against her chest, which didn’t appear to be moving. But even if el Pulpo’s favorite wife was still alive, her time, like Magnolia’s, was running out.

  You should have ended it when you could.

  Back on the Sea Wolf, Magnolia had fired as the hatch broke open, but El Pulpo’s men had overwhelmed her so fast, she didn’t even have a chance to turn the gun on herself or Sofia.

  But even given the opportunity, she wasn’t sure she could have taken her own life or Sofia’s, no matter how bad things were going to get for them. And things were getting bad.

  Magnolia had woken up bound to one of the two windshield posts, each topped with a grinning human skull, on el Pulpo’s war boat. Sofia was tied to the other, and she hadn’t moved yet.

  “Sofia …” Magnolia tried to say. All that she could hear was a steady ringing. There was fluid in her ears that had to be blood.

  Those weren’t the only things that hurt.

  She couldn’t see out of her right eye after a fist had caught her there. The left eye wasn’t all that much better, but it let her see the battle raging in the distance.

  El Pulpo hung back from the rest of his armada, watching the fight. His thirty or so remaining boats were firing everything they had at the warship.

  Apparently, Katrina either hadn’t gotten the warning or had ignored it. Knowing the captain, it was probably the latter. But if that was the case, then where the hell were the airships?

  She could understand keeping the fragile Hive at a safe distance, but Deliverance? She prayed it wasn’t the source of the explosion a few minutes ago.

  The blast was loud enough to carry over the rumble of the exhaust stack beside her, but her restraints had kept her from twisting around to see. They had trussed her up so tight, the rope cut into her bare flesh.

  El Pulpo took his helmet off and set it on the seat beside Miles. He turned to look at Magnolia and Sofia. The glow from burning boats gave enough light for Magnolia to see the rage in his face.

  His eye appeared to be bulging, and a vein stuck out in the center of his forehead, adding what looked like an extra arm to the octopus tattoo. She was going to take great pleasure in seeing her people kill him. If she lived that long.

  After baring his teeth at the captured runaways, he went back to watching the battle. Another of his boats exploded in a cloud of debris. The Zion was on the run now, fleeing the armada of smaller vessels. Its wake heaved through the scrap yard of boats chewed up by its cannon and machine-gun fire. But the warship had taken some hits, too. Smoke fingered away from the deck and the top of the destroyed command center. Whoever was at the helm knew what they were doing.

  Magnolia glanced over to see Sofia finally coming to. Her nose was broken, and some teeth had been knocked out. Blood streaked down her chin, neck, and breasts. With her looks destroyed, el Pulpo would be less likely to forgive her sins.

  Now Magnolia understood why Sofia didn’t want to be taken alive.

  They both were as good as dead. Their only chance was to be saved by the only heroes left in this world. She looked back up at the jeweled sky, but there was no sign of the Hell Divers.

  They couldn’t be dead—not all of them … could they?

  She twisted in the restraints, which cut into her hands and wrists. The pain didn’t bother her, but Miles’ sad gaze made her heart ache.

  The dog cowered on the deck, quivering at the racket of explosions and gunfire. Magnolia fought harder, but there was nothing she could do. She was tied up too tight.

  Her eyes flitted back to the star-filled sky.

  All she could do was hope and pray that X had returned and that the Hell Divers would come for her. Not everyone believed in Janga’s prophecy—certainly not X—but she did, and her gut told her that he was going to help end all this.

  She just hoped she would live to see it.

  TWENTY-FIVE

  “Stay back until we can confirm there aren’t more cannons!” Katrina yelled over the comm channel.

  Gunfire and explosions in the distance made it difficult to hear the reply from Deliverance.

  “You aren’t going to last much longer if we don’t get in this fight,” Layla said.

  There was no mistaking the frustration and panic in her voice. With the Hell Divers pinned down on the rooftop of the capitol tower, and the USS Zion on the run from the Cazador boats, they all had reason to panic.

  “You stay back and let me take care of these assholes,” Katrina shouted over the din of battle. “We can’t afford to lose Deliverance.”

  The channel closed, and she went back to the monitors flashing reports of fires and system failures all across the ship. Despite massive damage, the engines were still running, the guns still fired, and the cameras still gave a panoramic view of the fight.

  They were still very much in this.

  She tabbed a screen to pull up the display on the starboard side, where a dozen enemy vessels, from speedboats to fishing trawlers, attacked with everything from handguns to rocket-propelled grenades.

  Another grenade detonated against the warship’s armored hull. Katrina braced herself against the monitor. Better the Zion than Deliverance.

  “Captain, we can’t take much more of this!” Eevi shouted.

  On the port side, ten more boats mounted an assault. Katrina was drawing them away from the capitol tower to give the Hell Divers a chance to find the prisoners, and to give Deliverance an opportunity to come in and take out the fleet.

  She just had to lead them outside the perimeter of the Metal Islands; then Layla could rain fire on them without being seen. So far, the plan was working.

  The twenty-odd remaining boats pursued the warship toward the black void surrounding the Metal Islands. If she could get the Cazadores out there, they would be blind and wouldn’t be able to track Deliverance through the cloud cover.

  “Edgar, how are we on ammunition?” Katrina said over the comm.

  “The fifty-cal on the stern is out, ma’am, the one on the bow is down to ten percent ammo, and our only MK-65 has five shells.”

  Katrina cursed at the report. Even if she did manage to draw the boats out there, she didn’t have enough ammunition to destroy them. It would be on Deliverance to take them out.

  “Full speed ahead,” she ordered.

  Sandy nodded, and the USS Zion picked up speed. It was much faster than anything the Cazadores had except the WaveRunners and the speedboats.

  She heard chatter over the comms but couldn’t make out much of it. And as soon as she passed into the electrical storms outside the border, the comms would receive only static.

  What she could make out was something about Commander Everhart and the other Hell Divers being pinned down at the capitol tower, unable to advance.

  And Vish was gone, dead before he even landed.

  Katrina looked at his brother, hunkered on the floor at his station. He had heard the news, and it had dropped him to his knees. Since then, he had regained his composure, but she wasn’t sure she could count on him once things got even dicier.

  “Captain, look at this,” Eevi said.

  Katrina hurried over to her station.

  They USS Zion passed an oil rig, and the images came online.

  Lights flickered on each deck, providing a glow to the vertical slum these people called home. Metal shacks and flimsy partition walls separated one family from the next. Gardens grew out of trough planters, and drying fish and clothing hung from wires and ropes.

  Hundreds of people watched from the safety of the oil rig, looking out over the battle.

  They look just like us: scared and trying t
o survive.

  Another voice crackled over the channel. It was Edgar.

  “They’re trying to board us!”

  Katrina looked at the display of the starboard side, where six WaveRunners, carrying two riders each, sped alongside. They fired grappling hooks up over the rail.

  She put on her helmet, switched on the comms system, and grabbed her laser rifle.

  “Eevi, you have the bridge. Just keep us moving! Edgar, keep the boats away from us. I’ll take care of these bastards.”

  Sandy got up from her station, gun in hand. “I’ll help.”

  Katrina gave a nod, and the two women moved out to the deck.

  The Cazador soldiers were already shinnying up their scaling ropes.

  Katrina flashed a hand signal to Sandy, who moved behind the forward gun turret for cover. The moon and stars had vanished, leaving the deck in shadow. They were now crossing the threshold of light and dark.

  She switched to night vision and shouldered her rifle as more boats came up along the starboard side. They had switched a high beam onto the warship.

  “Down! Down!” she shouted.

  Sandy hit the deck as tracer fire flashed across the water and pinged off the bulkhead behind them. Another RPG exploded harmlessly against the hull.

  “Edgar,” Katrina said, “port side, three hundred meters out, use the fifty on the twin-hull boat. They have an RPG, and if they get a lucky hit on the bridge, we’ll have major problems.”

  She kept down and got the first Cazador soldier in her sights. Climbing over the starboard rail, long wet hair pulled back, glistening wet.

  Closing one eye, she pulled the trigger.

  The bolt flashed through him, and he peeled off the rail. Two more Cazadores took his place, one of them managing to get off a shot before Sandy caught them with short bursts from her assault rifle.

  They both vanished over the other side.

  Slinging the laser rifle, Katrina ran toward the grappling hooks, drawing her sword as she moved. Another soldier emerged over the rail, head poking out and eyes scanning for a target.

  Her blade was there to greet him. A swift stroke opened his neck. He reached up to grab the spurting wound, then fell backward.

  Not wasting any time, she leaned over the edge and saw several more men climbing knotted ropes. The closest looked up at her as she cut through the rope. He let out a yelp, his arms flailing air until he bounced off the motorboat he had just climbed out of.

  Katrina sheathed the sword and unslung the laser rifle as the comm channel in her helmet crackled.

  “Captain, half the boats are ending their pursuit!” Eevi shouted.

  Katrina could see multiple lights heading away. Maybe they had caught on to the trap she was laying. Or perhaps they were returning to the capitol tower to deal with Team Raptor.

  “Layla, now’s your chance,” she said over the comm. “Take out those boats. Eevi, bring us about. We’re going back in.”

  “Aye, aye, ma’am,” Eevi replied.

  There was no response from Layla.

  “Layla,” Katrina said. “Do you copy?”

  The electrical storms were messing with the signal.

  Katrina felt the ship begin banking to the left and heard the crunch of the hull obliterating a Cazador vessel. Ten boats were still out here, firing small arms at the warship.

  The .50-cal on the bow blazed, riddling another twin-hull craft that was still trying to keep up with the Zion. Then the machine gun fell silent as the last spent casings rained onto the deck.

  “That’s all the fifty ammo we got,” Edgar reported. “Three shells on the MK-65 remaining.”

  Katrina opened a channel to Layla again.

  Please, kid, I need you.

  Again her hails went unanswered.

  She started back to the bridge with Sandy, keeping low and out of view of any hostile vessels. They were halfway across the deck when gunfire cracked behind them.

  Sandy screamed and went sprawling.

  Heart thumping, Katrina aimed the laser rifle at a team of four Cazador soldiers moving fast toward them. Before she could take them down, they opened fire, forcing her behind a bulkhead.

  Sandy crawled toward Katrina, trailing a streak of blood.

  “Captain,” she said. “Captain, help …”

  “Be still,” Katrina said.

  Gunfire ricocheted off the deck by Sandy, and Katrina moved her laser rifle around the corner to lay down suppressing bolts. Then, breaking cover, she dragged Sandy to safety.

  As soon as Sandy was around the bulkhead, Katrina grabbed her laser rifle. She was about to fire again when something punched through the metal wall and slammed into her midsection.

  The impact took the air from her lungs, and pain so overwhelmed her that she almost lost consciousness. There was no question the bullet had penetrated her flesh, even with the bulkhead and body armor to slow it down.

  Gunfire pounded the deck to her left as she fell.

  “Help,” Katrina mumbled over the comm. “We need …”

  She looked over at Sandy, who lay to her right. The bulkhead only barely covered both of them. Holes crowned outward as more gunfire ripped through. Someone was shooting armor-piercing rounds.

  Katrina tried to speak, but all that came out was a croak. She gritted her teeth and reached out to Sandy. They laced their fingers together just as a round lanced through Sandy’s helmet. Her fingers went limp.

  “No …” Katrina choked. She crawled over to the hatch, leaning against it to sit up. Then she drew the sword and waited for the men.

  When the first soldier rounded the bulkhead, she jabbed him through the groin and pushed upward. The pain from her abdominal wound was almost too much, but it didn’t stop her. The man had killed her friend, and she wanted him to suffer.

  Boots hit the deck, followed by shouts from the other Cazador soldiers. She prepared to meet her end, when the hatch behind her opened.

  She fell backward and felt hands under her armpits. Jaideep looked down at her.

  “Are you o—” His words cut off at the sight of Sandy’s corpse.

  “Where are they?” he asked, anger in his voice.

  Katrina lifted her chin in the direction of the approaching enemies.

  “Can you walk?”

  With his help, she sat up gripping her gut, almost blacking out from the pain.

  “I … maybe.”

  Jaideep helped her to her feet.

  “Let’s get you back inside,” he said.

  Katrina looked down at Sandy’s body one more time and then left Jaideep.

  “Take the laser rifle,” she said, knowing that these were likely the last words she would ever speak to the courageous young Hell Diver.

  Jaideep nodded. “Go, Cap,” he said. “I’ve got this.”

  There was no trace of fear in his voice, only anger and confidence. With his brother dead, he had little to lose. The young diver had finally lived up to the family name.

  Jaideep Abhaya raised the rifle, truly fearless.

  Gunfire cracked behind her as Katrina shut the hatch.

  “Come on, you animals!” she heard him yell. “I got a little somethin’ for ya!”

  Katrina limped through the passages back to the bridge and locked the hatch behind her. Eevi was standing at her station.

  “Captain, you’re …”

  “I’m fine,” Katrina lied.

  Eevi hesitated as if too shocked to speak.

  That makes two of us, Katrina thought.

  “Stay with me, Eevi,” she said. “I need a sitrep.”

  “We’re almost back to the Metal Islands, and we still have four boats pursuing us, but they’re quite a ways back.”

  Katrina brought up the comm line to the command center. “Edgar, fire the re
maining MK-65 rounds at those boats. Make ’em count; then help Jaideep, to starboard. We’ve been boarded by at least four hostiles.”

  “Copy,” he replied.

  She slouched into the captain’s chair and looked down at the blood leaking from around her gloves. Red encroached on both sides of her narrowing vision. She blinked and tried to manage her breathing. She just needed to stay conscious a little longer …

  Gunfire cracked outside the bridge, snapping her alert.

  An explosion rang off the port side, then the starboard side.

  “Two boats down, two left,” Edgar said. “I’ll deal with them in a minute.”

  Katrina kept pressure on her wound, but the combination of bruised rib and gunshot wound made breathing a painful chore. Stars broke before her vision, and fear gripped her in that moment.

  She had minutes before she lost consciousness.

  Stay with it. Your people need you.

  Katrina blinked and filled her lungs.

  More gunfire cracked outside, followed by shouts.

  Edgar returned to the bridge a moment later, assault rifle cradled across his chest. But Katrina wasn’t deceived. She could see blood leaking down the armor over his upper chest.

  “Jaideep?” she asked.

  Edgar shook his dreadlocks.

  “Just us three now,” Katrina said. “Edgar, are you with me?”

  He nodded. “Till the end, ma’am.”

  “Good. Keep them off the bridge. I just need a few minutes.” She looked over at Eevi. “Go to the cargo hold and take the last Zodiac.”

  “Ma’am, no,” Eevi said.

  “That’s an order. Your husband is still alive out there. Go find him.”

  Eevi stood up from her station, her face flushed. She hesitated, then threw up a salute.

  “I won’t forget this, ma’am. No one will,” Eevi said. She stopped to give Edgar a hug before leaving the command center.

  Katrina took another deep breath and stared at the metal hatches covering the broken port windows. She pushed a button, dropping them to give her a view of what lay ahead. They had crossed the barrier into darkness. The lights on the oil rigs blazed in the distance. Spotlight beams from the boats that had retreated earlier hit the USS Zion, making the weather deck bright as day.