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Hell Divers

Page 33

by Nicholas Sansbury Smith


  The supplies weren’t far now. He could see them just a few yards away—boosters, weapons, boxes of extra ammunition—lying in the snow, where he had tossed them to make room in the crate.

  X launched himself in a headlong dive for the gear. The uncontrolled slide ripped at the wound and packed it with dirty, radioactive snow so cold it ached. Swallowing the pain, he searched frantically for a weapon beneath the light coat of powder that had fallen.

  He gripped the stock of a blaster and brought it up to meet the four Sirens galloping in from the north.

  Without thinking, he fired a flare at the cluster. A split second later, he realized his mistake. As the flare exploded in the snow between the creatures, he chinned the pad to shut off his night-vision optics. The Sirens squawked away, darting off into the gusting snow.

  X scooped up a new booster, slid it into the slot on the back of his armor, and secured it with a click. Then he grabbed one of the assault rifles and turned to see two dozen Sirens stalking him.

  He could power down and pull his battery unit, but he would never survive the trip back without the heating pads in his suit. His only option was to fight.

  X planted his boots in the snow and struggled to shoulder his rifle. His arms shook as he raised the weapon. The crack of his own gunfire was a welcome sound, blotting out the encroaching wails. He fired in short bursts that punched through leathery skin and shattered bone. Four bodies pitched into the snow. He killed three more before ejecting the empty magazine and shoving in another. Smoke curled from the muzzle as he trained it on the six Sirens drawing closer. He squeezed the trigger, moving his sights from target to target.

  Between the cracks of gunfire came a shrill cry above. He looked up to see three Sirens cutting through the sky in a nosedive. Swinging his rifle skyward, he fired single shots into the mass. One of the creatures veered away, wounded, but the other shots went wide as panic threw off his aim.

  X concentrated this time, aiming with greater precision, knowing that each round was precious. He closed his eyes and flinched as the two Sirens crashed headfirst into the snow around him, sending up a cloud of white. He didn’t check to see if they were dead. Now was his chance to escape. He changed out his magazine, then reached over his shoulder to hit the booster. The balloon shot out of the pack and launched him skyward.

  Two converging Sirens bashed into each other right where he had stood a moment before, throwing up more snow. He angled the muzzle toward the ground as soon as he was in the air. Ten of the creatures writhed just under his feet, their eyeless faces turning this way and that, as if confused by the cloud of snow.

  Not wanting to waste the stolen moment, X squeezed the trigger at one of the monsters as it looked skyward. Several of the rounds punched through its skull, spraying the others with fresh blood and sending them into a frenzy.

  One down.

  The next shot left another flopping spastically in the snow, with a shattered leg.

  Two down.

  He mowed down three more with a single controlled burst, but the rifle’s recoil pushed him higher into the air in erratic jerks.

  The remaining Sirens locked on to his position from the ground, squawking furiously. He dropped three more with calculated shots before the final two got airborne.

  X centered the weapon on them, but the stock felt light in his hands, and when he went to squeeze the trigger he realized his fingers were almost completely numb. His entire body shuddered. Shock and blood loss were taking a toll. The wind whistled over his armor as he rose toward the clouds.

  Even with numb fingers, he managed to fire off another volley, ripping through the wings of the Siren to his left. It tumbled away before smashing into the ground. He focused on the other now, holding the rifle as steady as he could.

  The monster soared through the sky. It was almost elegant, the way it caught the air currents. Even as it closed on him, X found himself marveling that somehow these creatures had survived in this harsh environment. Maybe it was the next step in evolution on earth. Maybe humans’ time was indeed over.

  No. We still have time.

  Holding in a breath, he lined up the sights and fired into the creature’s torso, knocking it off course and sending it spiraling out of control. He pulled the trigger again, but the gun wouldn’t fire.

  X reached for his final magazine just as a crosswind knocked the rifle from his hands. He watched helplessly as it disappeared into the clouds. All he had left now was his knife. If the Sirens returned, he would have no choice but to use the blade.

  He searched the darkness for any sign of them. His vision was tinted red, the field growing narrower, the images dimmer.

  Almost there. Almost home.

  He pressed against the wound on his belly and groaned at the stab of pain. Ascending higher, he drifted closer to unconsciousness. He fought it, but this wasn’t a foe to be vanquished with grit and a tactical knife.

  Lightning shot across the clouds to the west, and ten seconds later, he heard the dull roll of thunder. X had drifted to the east, his balloon pulling him away from the storm.

  He grabbed his toggles and focused on the flashes. Watching them helped him concentrate, kept him barely present. Despite his injuries, he began to relax. There was something serene about the darkness. He imagined that it was a lot like death: infinite and everlasting.

  As he coasted away from the storm, his HUD solidified. He was at ten thousand feet now.

  Were the Sirens still searching for him?

  He listened for their high-pitched shrieks but heard only wind and the echoes of thunder.

  X closed his eyes, he wasn’t sure for how long—maybe just a moment, maybe much longer. But when he opened them again, the brightest, most beautiful light he had ever seen flooded his vision.

  A carpet of yellow stretched across the horizon. White, fluffy clouds drifted across an ocean of blue. And there to the east was a black speck that might just be the Hive. Above it all, sat a flaming ball so bright, it hurt his eyes. He had seen the sun only a handful of times in his life, and never so clearly as this.

  X squinted into the sunlight, shielding his visor with a shaky, bloody hand. Could it be? Could he really have made it back?

  He shifted his gaze back to the tiny black sphere and bumped his comm pad. “This is Commander Xavier Rodriguez …” He broke into a cough, then sucked in deep gasps to control his breathing. Stars floated before his vision, encroaching on the beautiful view. “Does anyone copy? Over.”

  Static rushed out of the speakers in his helmet. He blinked away the fuzz and watched the only home he had ever known fly slowly away. He pleaded that someone would hear him and come back for him. Several minutes passed, and he tried again.

  “This is Commander X. If anyone can hear me, I’m drifting east with eyes on the Hive. Anyone copy? Over.”

  White noised crackled in his ear.

  The Hive continued gliding through the blue, carrying its precious cargo to safety. X felt his lips curl into a smile. They had made it. Captain Ash was steering the ship away from Hades, leaving the death and despair behind while his balloon pulled him toward the sun.

  X let out a sigh and searched his vest pocket for the fortune Tin had given him. He pulled it and read it in the sunlight.

  “Handle your present with confidence. Face your future without fear,” X said. Tin had taught him what it meant to live again, and even more importantly, what it meant to be courageous. In the end, it was with the boy’s help that X had fulfilled his promise to Aaron. It didn’t matter that X wouldn’t be there to see the boy grow up; he’d given Tin the chance to grow up.

  He let the wind take the piece of paper from his fingers and watched it swirl away. Ares was gone, but the Hive was still flying. Maybe Captain Ash really would find a place to land someday—a place where the survivors of the human race could finally start over. The fate of h
umankind was now in the capable hands of others. He had done all he could. He didn’t need to fight anymore. His battle was finally over. X loosened his grip on the toggles and let the balloon pull him into the warmth of the sun.

  Acknowledgments

  It’s always hard for me to write this section for fear of leaving someone out. My books would not be worth reading if I didn’t have the overwhelming support of my family, friends, and readers.

  As many of these people know, far more than writing goes into creating a book. The time it takes to edit, format, print, and market a book can take just as long as the actual writing. For that reason, I’m grateful for my new publisher, Blackstone. They believed in my Extinction Cycle books enough to take a chance on Hell Divers. Working with their staff has been wonderful. It’s been refreshing to see a traditional publisher thinking outside the box and taking risks. They spent countless hours on editing and marketing Hell Divers. Without them, this book would not be what it is.

  A special thanks also goes to David Fugate, my agent, who provided valuable feedback throughout the many drafts. I’m lucky and grateful to have his support and guidance.

  I would be remiss if I didn’t also thank the people for whom I write: the readers. I’ve been blessed to have my work read in countries around the world by wonderful people I will probably never meet. If you are reading this, know that I truly appreciate you for trying my stories.

  To my family, friends, and everyone else that has supported me on this journey, I thank you.

  About the author

  Nicholas Sansbury Smith is the bestselling author of the Orbs and Extinction Cycle series. He worked for Iowa Homeland Security and Emergency Management in disaster mitigation before switching careers to focus on his one true passion—writing. A three-time Kindle All-Star, several of Smith’s titles have reached the top 50 on the overall Kindle bestseller list and as high as #1 in the Audible store. When he isn't writing or daydreaming about the apocalypse, he's training for triathlons or traveling the world. He lives in Des Moines, Iowa, with his dog and a house full of books.

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  To personally contact Nicholas Sansbury Smith, email him at GreatWaveInk@gmail.com. He would love to hear from you.

  Dear Reader,

  Thank you for reading Hell Divers! I hope you enjoyed it. If you would take a few minutes to leave a review, I would be very grateful. The success of a book isn’t just measured by sales—it’s measured by the quality and quantity of the reviews. Reviews don’t just help others decide whether to spend their quality time and money on a book—as an author, they help me improve my work. I take reader feedback very seriously, as it helps me put out better and more enjoyable books. If you do write a review, please email me at GreatWaveInk@gmail.com so I can thank you personally.

 

 

 


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