Hell Divers III_Deliverance

by Nicholas Sansbury Smith

  Layla looked at X. “You said they trap the Sirens. Do they eat the god-awful things?”

  X shrugged again. It seemed he was done telling stories for now, or maybe he was simply feeling the strain of talking so much, to so many people, after his long isolation. But Michael had a feeling there was much more to this story—something X was hiding. Still, now wasn’t the time to pressure him to talk. Not after what he’d been through. If anyone should have questions, it was the man who had been left behind for a decade.

  “I want to go home,” Rodger said. “When are we leaving?”

  X raised his bushy eyebrows. “Leaving?”

  “We came to take you home,” Michael said.

  “This is my home now,” X said. He pulled a flask from his vest and took a slug of whatever was inside. Magnolia massaged her forehead, her frustration and disappointment bleeding through. Clearly, Michael wasn’t the only one who remembered the alcoholic version of X from ten years ago. Somehow, he had managed to make his own shine here or else had found a stash somewhere.

  “You belong on the Hive,” Michael said. “But we’re going to need your help taking it back from Jordan.”

  “Fuck that,” X said, wiping his mouth on his sleeve. “I’m better off on my own.”

  Miles let out a whine, and X patted his head. “I didn’t mean without you, boy.”

  Staring in disbelief, Magnolia said, “Jordan left you down here.”

  “Yeah, I heard you the first time,” X said. He took another slug from his flask.

  “Honestly, I’d rather not go back to the Hive,” Layla said, speaking up for the first time. “Why can’t we just stay on Deliverance?”

  “No,” Rodger protested. “I can’t leave my parents behind.”

  “Humanity is counting on us,” Michael said, turning to Layla. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. She of all people was supposed to have his back.

  “I’m sick of humanity,” Layla said with a shrug.

  “And I’ve got unfinished business with Jordan,” Magnolia chimed in. “I’m going back to the Hive with or without you guys, and I’m gonna strangle Leon with his own guts.”

  Michael shook his head, frustrated. They had come all this way to get X, but the stubborn jackass didn’t want to leave. On top of that, Layla was dragging her feet about returning to the Hive.

  A chirping sound came from across the room, and everyone looked at the handheld radio in the pile of their gear and armor. Magnolia walked over and picked up the radio, then gave it to Michael. He brought it up to his lips.

  X slowly got up from his chair, watching warily. “That on a private channel?” he asked.

  Michael nodded. “Why?”

  X shook his head and settled back into his seat. Michael narrowed his eyes, trying to figure out why the hell the floaters scared X so much. After all the man had been through, humans should be the least of his concerns. The speakers crackled, and the AI’s voice came online.

  “Commander Everhart, this is Timothy. Do you copy? Over.”

  “Copy you, Timothy. Go ahead.”

  “Sir, I apologize for breaking radio silence, but I have a problem. There are people approaching Deliverance, and they are armed with automatic rifles. What should I do, sir?”

  “Your friends?” X asked.

  Michael shook his head. “It’s just us down here.”

  “Shit, it’s got to be the floaters,” X said, getting back up from his chair. Miles stood and looked up, as if awaiting a command.

  Michael wanted to ask a dozen questions, but whoever these people were, only one thing mattered. “We can’t let them take our ship,” he said, looking to X. “Please, X. Will you help us?”

  X started to bring the flask back up to his lips, then slid it back into the slot on his vest. He shook his head wearily, like an old man who didn’t want to get up for the day’s chores.

  “Ah, fuck it,” he said. “Miles and I don’t have anything better to do.”

  * * * * *

  Rodger followed the other divers down a dark stairwell to the garage under the building. In the middle of the space was a motorcycle with wide tires, hitched to a trailer.

  “Nice bike,” Michael said.

  X pointed at the trailer, “Everyone in the back.”

  Rodger examined the vehicle before getting in. The wheels on both the bike and the trailer sported extra-wide tires and had metal blades protruding from the hubs.

  “You want us to get inside that, and let you drive us across the city like livestock being shipped to slaughter?” Rodger asked. “No, thanks.”

  “Just get in, man,” Michael said.

  Magnolia turned to look at him. “Come on, Rodger Dodger. I’ll save you a seat.”

  Rodger gave an uneasy smile and followed the other divers toward the open trailer. X and Magnolia had already loaded the crates of supplies and weapons they would need on the journey. Rodger went over the plan again in his head. It was simple. They would drive through the city to an area a few blocks away from Deliverance. From there, they would move in on foot and engage any hostiles trying to steal their ship.

  “Once we’re on the open road, I’m going to haul ass,” X said in his raspy voice. “Your ship is about ten minutes away. Your job is to shoot anything in our way, without hitting Miles or me.”

  Michael dipped his helmet in assent. Somehow, X had taken over command of the mission. Rodger wasn’t sure letting the man lead them was a good idea, but once again no one seemed especially interested in his opinion.

  “The others are heavily armed,” X said. “Mags and I will take them down.”

  “Won’t they hear us coming?” Rodger asked.

  X shook his head. “I’ve modified the mufflers and engine. She purrs, but she don’t scream.” He swung his leg over the bike. “You guys ready?”

  The divers, crammed into the trailer among the crates and weapons, nodded. Miles thumped his tail on the floor.

  “I’m Rodgeman,” Rodger whispered again. The words had become a nervous habit.

  The bike choked to life as X revved the engine, and the trailer lurched up the ramp toward the surface. Magnolia pressed her leg against Rodger’s and flashed a smile at him. He swallowed and moved his rifle out of the way.

  As soon as they were clear of the garage, he scanned above for Sirens. The creatures had flocked to the south shortly after Timothy’s message. Something had drawn them away, and Rodger had a feeling it had to do with the armed men now approaching Deliverance.

  The trailer jolted over a pothole when they hit the main street, and Rodger twisted to grab the metal railing for support. It was a rocky ride, but X was right—the bike hardly made any noise. They sped through the ruined city, navigating around the ancient vehicles and mutant plants with calculated precision. It seemed this wasn’t X’s first time driving these roads.

  Rodger looked back up at the sky again. His parents were up there somewhere, and he longed to see them again. His heart hurt at the thought that the reunion might not happen. Michael and Layla were good people, but they weren’t family. And Magnolia … Well, he could never figure out what she was thinking.

  Sometimes, she seemed to want to get close to him, but then she would run away again. Someday, maybe soon, he would just tell her how he felt. No more longing glances, no more awkward flirting. Just put his heart out there and let her do with it as she pleased. His mother liked to say that if Rodger met a girl he liked, he should marry her and start making babies as soon as possible. He grinned, imagining a couple of blue-haired, bespectacled toddlers running around the Hive.

  “What’s so funny?” Magnolia asked.

  “Oh, n-nothing really.”

  A raindrop splatted on his visor, and a second later the storm clouds dumped. Rodger wiped his visor and bent his head down to keep the water from blinding him. The bi
ke slowed, and the trailer jolted over another bump in the road.

  Lightning struck a scraper in the distance, and the following blast of thunder shook the metal trailer. A crevice in the pavement rocked them from side to side as they sped over it. With no way to communicate with X, the divers remained silent, putting their faith in the hands of a man most of them barely knew.

  The rain continued to batter them as they wove through the windy streets. X drove up a bridge, giving Rodger a view of the swamps. The lighthouse continued to flash on the horizon, but he didn’t see any Sirens circling the tower.

  So where were they? Rodger felt a growing lump in his gut as he thought about it.

  On both sides of the road, vines and mushrooms glowed. The blades on the bike and trailer hubs sliced through them, painting the sidewalk with purple and green sap. Plants shriveled back into their cracks in the torrential downpour, and a lone beetle skittered for cover. Everywhere he looked, the city’s vast poisonous ecosystem was alive and functioning. How could X possibly have survived out here? What kind of man would want to make his home in a world like this?

  Rodger watched the back of X’s head as if he might see into the man’s troubled mind. X’s helmet panned constantly and moved from road to sky, constantly alert for threats.

  Rodger thought about Janga’s prophecy, the one that told of a man who would lead humanity to a new home in the sea. Rodger had half believed that X would turn out to be that man, but now he wasn’t so sure. X didn’t seem to care much whether humanity lived or blinked out forever.

  Maybe it was these “floaters” that would lead humanity to a home in the sea. But Rodger didn’t know who or what they were, and X seemed frightened of them. He shook away the questions and focused on the mission.

  They turned around another corner, and the bike slowed to a crawl. Rodger and the other divers readied their weapons as X pulled off to the side of the road and under a slanted rooftop that provided cover from the rain. Magnolia opened the liftgate and let the divers out onto the street.

  “Your ship should be two blocks from here,” X said. He pointed at the walled stadium.

  “Timothy, do you copy? Over,” Michael said over the comm.

  Static crackled for several beats before the AI came online. “Roger, sir.”

  “We’re moving into position. You got eyes on these soldiers?”

  “They are moving into the concourse, sir.”

  “How many?”

  “The sensors are detecting eight contacts of human size.”

  “Any other contacts in the area?” Michael asked.

  “I will do another scan and report back. Over.”

  Michael ducked under the awning to look at the sky. Rodger followed. He still didn’t see anything out there, but he could hear the distant hunting cry of a Siren.

  “We’re splitting up,” Michael said. “X and Layla with me. We’ll enter on the left side of the stadium. Rodger and Magnolia, take the right side.”

  X put a hand on Michael’s shoulder. “Listen, kid, you should sit this one out. You’re injured. Let me handle these guys.”

  “I’m not the kid with the tin hat anymore,” Michael replied. “I’m the leader of Team Raptor.” He pointed to the logo on the top of his battered helmet.

  X didn’t reply right away, his gaze fixed on the Raptor emblem. “You can hardly walk,” he finally said.

  “I can walk just fine.”

  X shook his head. “Fine, suit yourself, but I’ll take point. You stay behind me. Got it?”

  Two beats passed before Michael finally dipped his helmet. The interaction reminded Rodger of his father, who had always tried to protect him, even when Rodger didn’t need the help. Even after all this time, X was still trying to look out for Michael. But maybe there was nothing X could do to get them out of this city alive.

  * * * * *

  Magnolia and Rodger bolted across the street. She was anxious to return to Deliverance and get off this apocalyptic obstacle course. The view of the ocean had been satisfying for all of an hour. Now she just wanted to leave the mysterious “floaters,” the Sirens, and the man-eating trees behind. If all went according to plan, she would soon be strangling Jordan.

  The thought made her smile.

  With her rifle up, she ran in front of Rodger, toward a brick building. The entire city block consisted of ruined structures, most of them eroded down to their foundations. An exfoliated scraper formed a mountain of scree to their right. Debris covered the street and the storefronts on the left side. This section of the city had been spared from the nuclear heat wave that flattened most of Miami to the west, but the centuries hadn’t been kind to the structures that remained. Most of them were covered in a skin of orange lichen and red moss. It looked innocent enough, but Magnolia didn’t trust the moss not to dissolve her armor on contact or to release flesh-eating spores.

  The radiation was also a threat. Fortunately, X had given them pills that would mitigate some of the effects, but even these wouldn’t save them from full-on exposure. He had found the pills in the same place where he found the cancer medicine that saved his life almost two years ago. The man was the archetype of a survivor, having thrived for a decade in a place where death ruled.

  Magnolia studied the next intersection, where a pair of old-world vehicles rested in the street, their shells rusted and covered in more of the suspicious orange lichen. After raising a fist, she got down to scan the area. Rodger knelt behind the wreckage of a truck. They would have to cross the open space to get to the next block, and from there it was just a short trek to the stadium. She could already see the circular wall in the distance.

  A chilling wail sent her diving to the ground. The Siren flapped into view a few blocks away, fighting for altitude, with some sort of stick or barb protruding from its wing.

  “Let’s go while it’s preoccupied,” Magnolia said.

  Rodger followed her through the intersection. They kept low, using the vehicles for cover as they crept down the street.

  “Moving into position,” Michael said over the comms.

  “Copy that,” Magnolia replied.

  “Radio silence from here out.”

  The comms went dead. The vehicles thinned out, and the two divers left the open street and took to the sidewalk, moving along the shattered storefronts. The stadium towered over the paved lot at the end of the street. She scanned the area around the building, looking for contacts.

  The last transmission from Timothy had put all the soldiers inside the stadium and approaching Deliverance, but she still approached cautiously, keeping an eye out for lookouts or snipers.

  A shiver ran up her back, and the hair on her neck stood up the way it did just before a lightning strike. But no bolt came from the sky. She brought up her rifle and aimed it at the stadium. Something was off.

  The silence felt heavy, charged with expectation. Not a Siren could be heard.

  Nor could she hear Rodger behind her.

  She spun around to look for him but saw only the dusty concrete sidewalk where he was supposed to be standing. Her eyes naturally flitted to the sky as she prayed not to see a Siren carrying him away. Nothing. Had he spotted a piece of wood in the rubble and run off to salvage it?

  A crunching behind her made her freeze, and she caught a glint of movement reflected in a shard of glass. She whirled with her rifle raised, finger on the trigger, only to be rocked by a crashing blow to the side of her helmet.

  The world went red, and Magnolia collapsed on her back. She blinked at the shades of light, trying to get a look at whoever had just attacked her.

  Voices sounded, muffled and strained as if heard through a breathing apparatus. She tried to move, but her body wasn’t cooperating.

  A man bent down into her line of sight. A metal helmet covered his face, and he looked at her through two almond-shaped mirrored
eye visors that reflected her helmet with a dent in the side.

  The man tilted his head to the side, like a wild animal assessing its prey. His massive shoulders were topped with jagged white pads. It took her a moment to realize that they were actually the eyeless skulls of Sirens.

  Magnolia tried to scoot back, away from her captor, but gauntleted hands grabbed her shoulders from behind. She craned her neck to see two more armored men, though these lacked the skull epaulets. The men began to drag her across the concrete.

  “No,” she mumbled, a string of drool coming out of her mouth. Her head pounded, but her visor didn’t appear to be compromised, at least. She gritted her teeth against the pain.

  A voice crackled over the comm channel. “Mags, Rodge, where are you? We’re in position.”

  The man dragging her had heard the transmission. He leaned down with a knife, placing it in the space between her helmet and chest armor. The muffled voice spoke again from behind his mask, but she didn’t understand the words. They were unlike any she had ever heard before. Still, she didn’t need to understand the words to guess their meaning. If she replied to Michael, the man would cut her throat.

  “Magnolia, Rodger, do you copy?” Michael asked.

  The man picked her up under her armpits and slung her over his shoulder. The world went topsy-turvy, and then she was staring at the ash-covered sidewalk.

  Head pounding, she fought to remain conscious as he carried her down the street. A few minutes later, she was tossed inside the back of a vehicle. She hit the floor and rolled over to see Rodger on his side, visor cracked and eyes shut.

  Magnolia tried to squirm toward him despite the pain in her head, but one of the beastly men smacked her helmet with his rifle butt. The pain returned, more intense than before.

  She stared for several seconds at Rodger’s chest. Satisfied that he was still breathing, she looked around. They weren’t the only cargo in the back of the vehicle. There were dozens of capsules, stacked and held down by ropes. The same type of capsules she had seen in the cryogenic lab back at the Hilltop Bastion.

  Each one was filled with a naked human body.