Hell Divers III_Deliverance

by Nicholas Sansbury Smith

  He made for the first row of melted seats and climbed over a wall covered in orange moss. Then he reached back and helped Layla.

  “You good?” he asked.

  “My ankle’s much better. You okay?”

  A nod. Michael reached out to help Magnolia next. A bandage covered half her face. The shrapnel had slashed deep. Her cheek really needed stitches, but there was no time for that.

  She hopped over the ledge without his help. Rodger followed an instant later, and they moved up the concrete steps toward the first concourse. Inside were little booths that reminded him of the market on the Hive, each marked with faded letters announcing what they had once sold: popcorn. beer. pizza.

  “Pie-zah,” Rodger said. “What do you suppose that is?”

  The rest of the team, ignoring the old-world signs, made their way to a balcony where they could look out at the city. The metal scrapers rose in a jagged line across the sky. Gutted, stripped of paint, and full of black gaps like the mouth of a lower-decker. Flashes of lightning backlit the structures as well as the red vines cascading out the windows. Weeds grew along the sidewalks and in open spaces that had once been parks. There was even a cluster of dark-gray mushrooms, each the size of a man, growing out of the broken concrete in the lot below.

  The entire city was infested with mutant foliage, and what wasn’t covered in vines was submerged under brown, swampy water. Why the hell had X picked this place?

  Michael held up his wrist monitor, and did a double take when he saw the rads. “The radiation is off the charts,” he said. “Timothy, are these readings correct?”

  Static crackled, and the AI replied, “Yes, Commander. I also detect a high concentration of toxins in the air.”

  Michael took a sip of water from the straw in his helmet and used the stolen moment to think. If any of the divers got even a small tear in their suit, they would be compromised and would likely suffer an awful, painful death.

  “Don’t worry, sir. We’re with you,” Rodger said, showing an unexpected flash of awareness.

  Hearing the vote of confidence, especially from such an unlikely source, was helpful. But Michael still feared the journey ahead. They had two miles of rough terrain to cover, and who knew what threats to face.

  “Damn, X sure picked a shithole to retire in,” Magnolia said.

  Rodger chuckled, but Michael could see his brown eyes tight with fear. He waved the divers onward, toward a metal stairwell. It led them to a concrete open space with dull-blue tables. Beyond was a parking lot full of destroyed vehicles, with more of the purple weeds and the huge round mushrooms growing in the spaces between them. Several skeletons, now covered in orange moss, lay on the ground right where they had fallen centuries ago.

  Michael checked the nav marker on his minicomputer for their target and then set off across the parking lot. The street beyond had sunk and filled with water. Foam the color of a flesh wound lapped against the edges.

  He zoomed in with his binos on a massive yellow frog perched on a concrete ledge covered in red weeds. A single eyeball glared at the water, and a tongue shot out of its mouth. It pulled a small fish out of the stew and swallowed it. Another flash of motion came from the weeds. A six-foot-long snake, mostly camouflaged by the foliage, shot forward and swallowed the frog in a single gulp.

  Michael lowered the binos. Even a glimpse of the food chain here was enough to make him want to turn around and hide aboard the airship. Instead, he pushed back the fear and led the others onward.

  For the next hour, they moved cautiously through the city. Unlike most of the places where they had scavenged over the years, there was no sign of snow. The temperature was a comfortable seventy-two degrees, but the radiation remained high. The climate here was different, and the mutant flora and fauna seemed to thrive in the warm, moist environment.

  They trekked along the sagging network of roads, many of which had been swallowed by the earth and were filled with stagnant water. Glowing weeds writhed as they passed the shattered storefronts. Rodger and Magnolia kept their eyes on the higher floors of the buildings, while Michael and Layla kept their rifles trained at the ground level. “We’re being watched,” Magnolia said. “I can feel it.”

  “Me, too,” said Layla.

  Michael looked up at the buildings towering above them but saw nothing in the green hue of his night-vision goggles. So far, the camouflage Rodger had designed to reduce the energy output of their suits seemed to be working.

  They were about halfway between the LZ and their target when a noise stopped Michael in his tracks. It sounded like many multilimbed creatures skittering over the concrete. The other divers took cover behind a brick wall covered in red vines.

  “Stay away from those plants, and stay put,” Michael whispered. “I’ll take a look.”

  Without waiting for a response, he moved around the corner, keeping low. He dashed to a fallen billboard that stuck out of the dirt like an ax stuck in wood.

  The clanking and scratching sounds grew louder. He peered around the sign at another road, slanting into a pool of water. No, not a pool—a lake. Two scrapers rose out of the water in the distance. He stood cautiously and moved around the corner, looking at the shoreline, which seemed to be moving.

  His finger went to the trigger guard of his rifle as he watched hundreds of beetles the size of guinea pigs consuming the carcass of a fish on the concrete shore. They reduced it to a skeleton as he watched.

  A voice behind his shoulder made him flinch. “That’s disgusting,” Magnolia said.

  Rodger and Layla showed up a moment later, weapons lowered as they watched.

  “This city … it’s alive,” Rodger said.

  Layla nodded. “There’s an entire ecosystem here. It’s like nothing I’ve ever seen.”

  “And I’m guessing we haven’t seen the half of it yet,” Michael said. He scanned the area for higher ground and directed them toward an elevated street that turned into a bridge. The heat-warped hulls of vehicles clogged the road, providing plenty of cover—hiding spots for beasts.

  Using hand signals, he told the divers to spread out. Rodger took point on the right side, and Michael took the left. The bridge rose several hundred feet over the water, providing a view of the city. To the east, beyond the fence of scrapers, lay the seemingly infinite stretch of black water.

  And something else. Something that didn’t seem to belong in this wasteland.

  “Do you see that flashing red light?” Magnolia asked over the comm channel. She had her binoculars up to her visor.

  A brilliant web of electricity flickered overhead, spreading a cold blue light over the wasteland. The thunderclap sounded as Michael squeezed between two vehicles and stood next to Magnolia.

  “What is it?” he asked.

  She handed him the binos. “Take a look for yourself.”

  Michael peered through the glasses at a silo rising out of the beach. Red and white paint swirled up the walls. It reminded him of one of the candy sticks his dad used to buy him from the trading post on the Hive. The lookout at the top was flashing a bright red glow.

  “It’s a lighthouse,” Magnolia said. “Same thing I saw on my dive to the Hilltop Bastion. I thought I recognized it on the way in, but …”

  Rodger looked through his own binos. “How the hell is that thing still working? It couldn’t have been running all this time, could it?”

  Layla shrugged. “ITC facilities have backup power, so why can’t that tower?”

  “Here’s a better question,” Magnolia said. “Why is it flashing? Lighthouses used to warn ships away from rocks, right? I remember reading about—”

  “I don’t know, but we need to keep moving,” Michael said. He handed the binos back to Magnolia and set off across the bridge before she could respond.

  Right now his priority was finding X, not figuring out the lighthouse
. His nav marker put their target just two blocks away. But the bridge took them right into another flooded street. He held up a fist at the edge of the water. Dipping his boot in, he found that it came up only to his ankle.

  Another quick scan around told him this was their best route.

  “Let’s try it,” he said.

  Another hand signal ordered Team Raptor into the muck. They moved through the shallow water until they reached an intersection. To the east, a mountain of debris blocked the street. The west was a delta that fed out into the lake he had seen earlier.

  “Great,” Michael said, cursing.

  “Look at that.” Magnolia pointed at a ship wedged between two high-rises to the north. “Weird.”

  Michael checked his nav marker again. Thanks to their detour and the blocked street, they were still two blocks from the source of the signal. He looked up at the buildings to the east, beyond the wall of debris. One of them was the place where X had transmitted his SOS. Michael resisted the urge to scope the windows, searching for some sign that their journey would be worth it, and instead waved the group toward the wall. As they waded, the red foam floating on the surface clung to his legs. It looked like frothy, blood-flecked spittle.

  “Michael,” Rodger said. “Uh, sir …”

  Michael glanced over his shoulder. The other divers had halted and were looking back the way they had come. Ripples moved across the surface, away from the lake. A fin emerged, cutting through the water like a knife.

  “Move,” Michael rasped.

  Rodger let out a yelp and nearly tripped as he turned away. Layla and Magnolia followed him, but Michael held his ground, watching in horror as six more scaly dorsal fins broke through the murky water. He considered firing on them before they breached the surface, but didn’t want to risk drawing more unwanted attention.

  Forcing himself to look away, he moved after the rest of the team. The closer they got to the wall, the deeper the water became. Soon it reached his knees, then his thighs. By the time he was halfway to the sloping barricade of brick and concrete, he was nearly waist deep.

  Michael stopped and raised his rifle. They weren’t going to make it, and he couldn’t risk an attack from the fish or snakes or whatever the hell was swimming under the dark surface. Memories of the ordeal in the swamps haunted him. He refused to go through anything like that again.

  He brought his rifle up, but hesitated when he saw a smooth head and a dorsal fin break the surface. This wasn’t a snake—it was a fish. Moving his finger toward the trigger, he prepared to spray the water with bullets.

  A shadow suddenly swooped around the building to his right, and he pulled the scope away from his visor to see frayed wings beating the air. An electronic wail followed, and a Siren scooped a fish the size of a small child out of the water. It flapped away, holding the squirming creature in its talons.

  If Michael had learned anything from his time on the surface, it was that Sirens hunted in packs. He shouldered his rifle and fired over Rodger’s head, sending a three-round burst into another beast, which had swooped around a building, with its eyeless face centered on Layla. The creature spiraled out of control and smashed into a two-story building.

  “Come on!” Michael yelled, thrashing through the water as fast as he could move. Magnolia and Rodger continued wading toward the wall. The fish darted off in all directions, dorsal fins retreating under the surface as the apex predators flew overhead. The sky had come alive with the bat-like shrieking monsters.

  Michael fired on full auto, raking the weapon in an arc to keep the Sirens back. The magazine went dry in a few seconds. He ejected it and slammed a fresh one in as he moved.

  “Covering fire!” he yelled.

  The crack of a rifle came over his shoulder. Rodger and Magnolia had made it to the wall, and one of them was firing. It wouldn’t be long before the noise attracted every beast in the city. They had to get to cover. He turned and helped Layla through the water as she stumbled on her weak ankle, eyes flitting from the water to the sky.

  Rodger and Magnolia were both firing from the wall of debris now, the crack of their weapons punching through the screech of the Sirens. Lightning blossomed behind the wall, illuminating their armored silhouettes. Booming thunder, screaming monsters, and the crack of gunfire raised an earsplitting din.

  Layla reached the wall and pulled herself up onto the slope. Michael stopped to fire on the creatures trying to flank them. There were a dozen, maybe more, most of them swooping down on the water to pluck out fish.

  But a few Sirens were focused on bigger prey.

  A pair of the larger monsters made a run for the divers, but the covering fire was working. They wheeled away, blood dripping from multiple wounds.

  “Take my hand, Tin!” Layla shouted.

  He waded toward the fifty-foot-high pile of debris. She was crouched on the slope, balanced on a slab of concrete. His fingers had just met hers when something sliced into his leg.

  Michael let out a cry of pain as teeth ripped through the gap in his armor between knee and thigh. He let his rifle sag over his chest, pulled out his knife, and brought the blade down on the fish that had clamped on to his leg. The tip cracked through bony plates and plunged into flesh, freeing him from the beast. He stowed the knife, grabbed Layla’s hand, and climbed up onto the wall.

  “Hurry!” Rodger yelled. He was frantically loading new bullets into the cylinder of his pistol, losing several in the process, while Magnolia kept firing her rifle. Empty shell casings rained down onto the concrete.

  Michael tried not to look at his leg, but he couldn’t help himself. Blood sluiced down his knee and armored calf guard.

  His suit had been compromised. He was as good as dead.

  Layla saw it, too. “We have to patch it!” she yelled.

  He shook his head. “Not now. MOVE!”

  They scrambled up to the top of the mound. There, he leaned on Layla before following Rodger and Magnolia down the other side. A narrow street lined by four-story buildings was relatively clear for the next block, but a dome-shaped steel cage as wide as the road blocked their escape at the bottom of the slope.

  “We’re trapped!” Magnolia shouted.

  The Sirens were banking in formation over the water, ignoring the fish and turning their eyeless faces toward the divers.

  “Fire!” Michael shouted. “Hold them off!”

  The divers raised their weapons. The beasts came in all at once, a flying wedge of cadaverous flesh and sinewy muscle. He counted at least a dozen of the beasts, but they moved so fast it was hard to tell for sure.

  Otherworldly wails sounded from the west as more Sirens joined the hunt. Michael emptied his magazine and turned to see another cluster flapping around the tower where X had sent the SOS.

  He changed his magazine and turned back to the nearest group. One of them penetrated the wall of fire and swooped toward Layla. She ducked and brought her rifle up to fire three rounds into the monster’s spine.

  A cracking noise came from behind, but it wasn’t a rifle. By the time Michael realized what was happening, it was too late. The scree had shifted under the weight of the four divers, sending bricks and concrete tumbling to the street below. Rodger and Magnolia were already caught in the landslide, Magnolia shouting curses as she fell toward the cage.

  Michael and Layla went next, sliding on their backs. The entire fall took less than five seconds, but the momentum resulted in a hard landing inside the open door of the cage. His helmet smacked onto the street.

  Red lights broke across his vision. His leg burned like nothing he had ever experienced in his life, as if someone were jabbing a hot needle into his flesh. He blinked through the pain and pushed himself up. Motion flashed from all directions, disorienting him, but he managed to focus on Magnolia. She stood at the other side of the cage, shaking the bars.

  Layla was firi
ng at the Sirens on top of the pile they had just slid down, raking the mound with bullets. Once they were down, she scrambled over to Michael and reached for her medical kit.

  “We have to get you patched up,” she said, handing him her rifle. “You hold them off!”

  Four Sirens clambered to the top of the hill. The only escape was up the slope and past the beasts. But Michael could see that it wasn’t going to be easy.

  The monsters squawked and screeched at the captive divers.

  “Shoot them!” Michael yelled. He fired a controlled burst at a beast perched on the mound. It darted away, and he looked over his shoulder to see why Magnolia and Rodger weren’t shooting. She was still at the bars, looking at a pack of Sirens approaching them from the street to the east.

  They were being surrounded.

  “I’m out,” Michael said.

  Layla finished patching his leg, leaving a hasty dressing over the suit. Then she pulled out her blaster and Michael unholstered his pistol. She helped him to his feet and they stood together, side by side, aiming through the open door at the monsters above.

  One of the beasts took to the air, screeching an alien wail. A flare lanced into the sky, catching the Siren in the right wing. It yelled louder and flapped away, wings catching fire as it climbed. Engulfed by the flames, it finally cartwheeled through the sky and landed in the water on the other side of the mountain. Michael heard it sizzle as it hit the surface.

  Two more flares shot toward the top of the hill, and the other Sirens darted away. Magnolia and Rodger had finally snapped back into action.

  Michael turned to look, but held in a breath when he saw the two divers standing weaponless and staring at the two figures approaching the cage from the east. In the red glow of the flares, Michael saw that it wasn’t more mutant creatures after all.