Hell Divers III_Deliverance

by Nicholas Sansbury Smith

  X’s breath caught when he saw them.

  Hundreds of creatures were scaling the silos like ants. Smaller than the usual Sirens and hideously pale in the green hue of his optics.

  Children.

  At the top of the tower, several adults broke the glass of a capsule and tossed a full-grown human from the chamber to the floor below, where it landed with a sickening thud. The genetically modified human lay on the floor in a puddle of fluid mixed with blood.

  The young Sirens scampered around it, grunting and pushing each other out of the way. Then one of them—an older child, judging by its size—bounded forward and clamped down on the human’s leg. It took a bite, ripping flesh from the ankle.

  The man jerked awake screaming in a voice that chilled X to the core.

  All at once, the other juvenile Sirens joined the feast.

  X didn’t wait around to watch. He bolted across the landing and up the stairs. The beasts, intent on their feast, must not have seen him. He ran past the communications door, but something stopped him. It had been months since he thought of the people in the sky and the warnings he had sent them. But what if they were still out there? What if they tried to raid this place and encountered the nest?

  He had given up on the people in the sky years ago, but the thought of them walking into a trap made him pause. Instead of moving up the stairs, X went back to the communications center to relay what could be his final message: a warning to stay away from ITC Communal 9.

  The distant wails of the monsters continued as X worked to bring the radio back online. Fortunately, the facility’s nuclear-powered backup generators, installed to preserve the cryo chambers indefinitely, also powered other critical equipment. It took an hour to activate the radio and relay his message. By the time he finished sending the transmission, the eerie echoes had faded away, leaving him in silence.

  X used the time to search a row of lockers, to make sure he wasn’t leaving anything valuable behind. He found a sealed bottle of stimulants and a few dead batteries. The bottle went in the bag.

  As he closed the locker and turned to head back aboveground, a metal banging froze him in place. The noise reverberated like a gong throughout the facility.

  The electronic cries of Sirens rose in reply. Dozens of them, all at once. The discord rose into a loud cacophony.

  But it was the next sound that made X freeze.

  Gunshots.

  Could they be real, or was this just his mind playing tricks?

  X moved slowly back to the door and peered down the hallway. Beams of green light jumped across his field of vision. He shut his NVGs off and the green lights turned white. They darted back and forth, hitting the walls and ceiling of the landing at the end of the passage.

  Another gunshot rang out, and this time there was no mistaking it.

  Enraged Sirens answered the noise. Had they learned how to fire a weapon? It was the only explanation, unless …

  X blinked rapidly, trying to grasp what he was hearing. Was it possible that the people from the sky had heard his message and come down?

  No. There was no way they had heard it and come for him this fast. Whoever these people were, either they had already been inside the facility or they slipped past him while he was in the radio room.

  He crept into the hallway, keeping the rifle pointed at the landing. He knelt and waited, the rifle wobbling in his shaky hands.

  The beams grew brighter, and a hulking metal figure strode past the landing and rounded the corner, dragging something meaty over the stairs.

  X reared back at the sight. It was the first human he had seen in … He realized he no longer knew.

  Metal clattered like a can being tossed against a wall, as more people in heavy armor trudged up the stairs. The light beams danced back and forth over a mesh wire net two of them were dragging.

  Inside the net, three Sirens thumped up the stairs, all unconscious or dead. The wails continued from below, where more gunfire rang out. Whatever was happening had started when he was inside the radio room, but he hadn’t heard anyone or anything slip past the steps outside.

  Curiosity pushed him to his feet, and he moved a few steps forward, his rifle still aimed at the landing where the lights continued flitting across the stairwell.

  The metallic clanking grew louder, and voices rang out. They were muffled but undeniably human, although he couldn’t understand a word they were saying. Whoever these people were, they didn’t speak his language.

  He considered retreating to the radio room to hide, but the voices were almost on top of him. Another armored hulk of a man crossed onto the landing, and X moved his finger to the trigger. But the figure kept moving, hauling another mesh net full of young Sirens. One was still conscious, clawing and shrieking and flopping about.

  Melancholy wails answered. The adults were searching for their missing children. Gunshots held them back.

  A third man in an armored suit stepped onto the landing and pointed a long weapon with a spear-like muzzle at the Siren. An electric bolt flashed into the naked beast. It screeched and jerked violently on the ground for several seconds before going limp.

  X held in a breath and took a step backward, his metal armor scraping the concrete wall.

  The sound drew the men’s attention. A helmet with two almond-shaped eye covers turned in his direction.

  “¡Contacto!” the man yelled. “¡Peligro!”

  X had the man at point-blank range, knowing he should pull the trigger, but for some reason he hesitated. These were humans. The first people he had seen in years.

  The armored figure raised the electrical rifle, and a blue arc leaped out and hit X in the chest before he could get off a shot.

  He crashed onto the concrete landing, jerking spastically. Unable to move, he watched boots crossing toward him. The same stifled voices came from all directions as the men surrounded him. Loud, angry voices. His hesitation would likely cost him his life, and that would be the end for Miles, too.

  “No,” X mumbled, thinking of his dog. He tried to push himself up, but another jolt ripped through his body, and he went limp on the ground.

  TWENTY

  Present day

  “This is … cough … Xavier Rodriguez. I’m currently …” The voice on the channel coughed again. In the mess hall aboard Deliverance, Magnolia listened over the PA system to the strained, scratchy voice of the man they were looking for. X gave his coordinates and then said something she wasn’t expecting.

  “Stay away from ITC Communal Nine.”

  Magnolia frowned as the message concluded. It was like hearing the hoarse murmurings of a ghost. Timothy played it a third time, as if they might unlock some secret by listening to it over and over again.

  The divers sat at one of the twenty white tables in the mess hall, listening intently as X’s voice rang out from the speakers. A day had passed since they landed on the island. After discovering another problem with the electrical system, Michael had kept them grounded for repairs. Now he wasn’t sure what to do.

  “X sounds sick,” Rodger said.

  There was a moment of silence as they considered the implications of the message and the state of the man who had transmitted it. X had warned anyone listening to avoid ITC Communal 9 in Miami, and he did sound ill. Had they come all this way for nothing?

  “This was two years ago?” Michael asked. “How come this is the first time we’re hearing it?”

  “Twenty months and twenty-two days ago, to be precise,” Timothy replied. “This is the first time I’ve detected the transmission. The last one was simply an SOS.”

  “Is it possible the Hive could have received it as well?” Magnolia said.

  Timothy’s translucent form looked pensive. “Perhaps. But the electrical storm centered over this region may be interfering with radio communications, so unless the Hive is cl
ose, they likely won’t hear this transmission.”

  “Thank you, Timothy,” Michael said. He heaved a sigh, and Magnolia watched him curiously, wondering what he was thinking.

  This changes nothing,” he finally said. “X is still alive, and we’re going to find him. Now, eat up. We’re going to need the energy.”

  Magnolia could only pick at the gelatinous hunk of what was supposed to be meat. It jiggled like the flesh of a living creature. She forced down several bites anyway as Timothy appeared in front of the table, virtual hands clasped behind his back.

  “All secondary systems are online, sir. The ship is ready to depart.”

  Michael stood and looked at his team. “Once we start flying into that storm, there’s no turning back. Are you all sure you’re up for this?”

  “Beats those boats and sea monsters,” Magnolia said.

  “I’m ready,” Layla said.

  Rodger nodded. “Good to go, sir.”

  “Okay, then,” Michael said. “Grab your gear and meet on the bridge.”

  A half hour later, the team gathered in the command center. They were all wearing their armor. Magnolia carried her helmet in the crook of her arm. Most of their equipment was in the cargo hold, ready to be deployed as soon as they landed in Miami, but she already had her lucky blades sheathed and strapped.

  On the bridge, Timothy’s hologram stood at the helm, between the wall-mounted monitor and the circular command island. Screens glowed at each station, waiting for the crew that should be flying a ship this size. Instead of a full complement, it had four divers and an AI. The divers strapped into the comfortable leather chairs facing the helm.

  “Initiate systems checks,” Michael said.

  Magnolia, in charge of navigation, touched the screen and brought up their current location. “Online.”

  “Comms online,” Rodger said.

  “Life support online,” Layla added.

  After a brief pause, Michael nodded and said, “Fire her up, Timothy.”

  Deliverance growled to life, and the clatter of electrical relays and mechanical equipment raced through the ship. Vibrations shook the bridge as the nuclear-powered engine engaged, and Magnolia cinched up the harness across her chest.

  Rodger looked over, his usual joking manner gone. Sincere brown eyes behind thick glasses met her gaze.

  “Everything’s going to be okay,” he said.

  Impulsively, Magnolia reached out and grabbed his hand, feeling the rough calluses of a man who had been a woodworker all his life.

  “We’re online,” Timothy reported. “The engine is fully operational. Turbofans and thrusters are functioning at ninety percent power.”

  The numbers were good—even better than when they found the ship at Hilltop Bastion. All their work had paid off. Magnolia relaxed in her leather chair and looked over at Michael—Commander Everhart, she reminded herself. It was up to him now.

  “Get us off this mud pie, Timothy,” he said.

  The turbofans kicked on, and the ship creaked and hummed in response as it climbed into the sky.

  “Goodbye,” Timothy said. He bowed his head slightly and then looked back at the wall-mounted screen as a view of the ground came online. The small graveyard that served as the resting place for the real Timothy Pepper’s family emerged on-screen. Magnolia thought about saying something, but decided to pay her respects in silence.

  All sense of motion vanished for a moment, as if they were hovering in darkness. Everything seemed peaceful, but Magnolia knew what was coming. Clanking echoed from under the floor as the landing gear retracted into the belly of the airship. When it finally stopped, Michael tapped on his monitor, directing power to the turbofans.

  Then they were rising toward the heavens, the massive airship groaning and creaking like a prehistoric beast waking after a long hibernation. Recessed lights flickered along the ceiling, and the main screen at the helm changed from a view of the island they were leaving, to the storm ahead.

  “There she is,” Layla said.

  The massive storm glowed an eerie yellow with a faint hint of orange, as if the clouds were on fire. Patterns of swirling blue marked the center.

  “The mother of all storms,” Rodger said, fidgeting nervously with his taped glasses. He put them back on and Magnolia reached over and squeezed his hand.

  “Don’t forget what you said earlier,” she said.

  “I won’t forget. We’re going to find X, and we’re going to get back to the Hive, and I’m going to see my parents again.” Rodger seemed to be talking to himself as much as to Magnolia, and she didn’t reply. She knew how much his family meant to him.

  This mission was also for X’s family, in a way: Michael, Layla, and herself. She missed X more than she had ever admitted. Since she was a child, Magnolia had lost everyone she ever cared about, every man she admired, looked up to, and loved. The thought that she might get to see X again was almost too much to deal with, so she went back to studying her monitor and the wall-mounted screen. Deliverance was already at five hundred feet. Far below, the cameras showed spurs of land and sporadic islands dotting the endless swamp.

  “Bringing the thrusters online,” Timothy announced.

  Magnolia finished the scan of her screen and looked over at Michael and Layla. This was the first time in as long as she could remember that she felt close to anyone. Team Raptor was like a family, and that scared the hell out of her.

  She gripped Rodger’s hand harder, and he grinned at her. “Hey, Mags,” he said.

  She smiled back. “Hey.”

  “Thrusters are all online, sir,” Timothy announced.

  Michael said, “Take us in.”

  Deliverance lurched, and the harness pushed against Magnolia. She let go of Rodger’s hand and held on to the straps across her armor. The other divers did the same thing while staring ahead at the monitor. Thunder rattled the hull. The vibration reminded her of the battle drum they used to mark the beginning of a boxing match in the lower decks of the Hive. What she wouldn’t give for a glass of shine right about now.

  “Keep us as low as possible, and as fast as possible,” Michael ordered.

  Timothy’s hologram vanished, but his voice boomed over the PA system. “Roger that, sir.”

  A fort of storm clouds in the distance flashed with pulsing blue light like a beating heart. The orange tint in the middle brightened as they flew toward the monstrosity. Was that the sun bleeding through the ceiling?

  Timothy reemerged in front of the divers. He put two fingers on his chin, watching the video screen as if in deep thought. The fiery center of the storm looked like a portal that was about to suck them into another dimension. Lightning blazed across the sky, and the thunder that followed boomed like a shotgun.

  “Don’t you kill us, Timothy Pepper!” Rodger shouted.

  Magnolia shook her head wearily. What the hell was she going to do with him? He’d probably have a few ideas, but Magnolia still wasn’t sure what she wanted. Right now, she just wanted to get through the damn storm in one piece.

  Deliverance dipped slightly, but the thrusters pushed them to twenty and then twenty-five miles per hour. Thirty seconds later, they were nearing forty. The airship was designed for a maximum speed of sixty, and Magnolia had a feeling they would be pushing that soon. At that speed, it would take them only twenty minutes to reach Miami, but in this storm, twenty minutes was an eternity.

  Lightning raked across the screen, so bright that the blue flash dazzled Magnolia’s eyes. When her vision cleared, they were completely surrounded by the massive, brooding storm. Clouds swirled and bulged in all directions.

  The ship lowered again, the bow dropping to two hundred feet. A view of the swamps came back on-screen. A large stretch of land turned and twisted through the water below like a massive snake. Some sort of bridge? The area looked nothing like an
y of the old-world maps in Deliverance’s databases.

  “Full power to thrusters,” Michael said.

  Deliverance heaved, and Magnolia jerked forward hard enough that the harness dug into her neck. She grabbed the armrests on her seat, eyes flitting from her monitor to the front screen.

  “Entering the central mass of the storm in T minus one minute,” Timothy said.

  The clouds overhead seemed to part like the gaping mouth of some monstrous sea creature. Magnolia thought of the documentary she had watched as a child of a whale swallowing smaller fish whole.

  We’re the little fish today, she thought.

  A barrage of blue bolts speared downward like rain. Turbulence rocked the airship, the bulkheads creaking and cracking.

  “I don’t know if she can take this for twenty minutes,” Rodger said.

  “She can take it,” Michael said.

  They were moving at fifty miles an hour now—an amazing speed for a ship this size. Magnolia tried to relax in the comfortable leather seat. She closed her eyes, trying to zone out, but a moment later, her eyelids sprang open with the first strike to the ship.

  The blast licked the starboard hull with a raucous crack. A warning sensor chirped, and the female operator’s voice came over the speakers.

  “Threat level critical,” said the maddeningly blasé voice. “Please get to your designated shelters.”

  “Can’t you shut her up?” Michael asked.

  “With pleasure, sir,” Timothy replied. The woman’s voice cut off in midsentence, and Timothy continued. “Entering the center of the storm in ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two …”

  Magnolia reached for Rodger’s hand again.

  “Hold me, sweet thing,” he said.

  She looked over to see him grinning. This time, she did laugh. But her nervous chuckle was short-lived.

  “One,” Timothy said as another blast of lightning hit the port side of the ship. A monitor behind them exploded, sparks flying over the bridge.