Hell Divers III_Deliverance

by Nicholas Sansbury Smith

  TWENTY-SIX

  Team Phoenix and the militia soldiers had the airship surrounded. Thunder boomed in the distance as Les and the other divers raced down past the rows of blasted, melted seats. They kept their rifles trained on the massive ship, but Les kept looking around in awe at the terrain.

  The landscape here looked far different from his first dive. Huge mushrooms, patches of weeds, and other poisonous things grew in the lumpy dirt. A giant insect darted across bare ground.

  The radioactive wasteland—and the thought of killing Michael Everhart, a man who had served as a role model to Trey—made Les want to puke. But it was the image of Jennifer sinking into the muck that he couldn’t shake. She had still been alive; he was sure of it. He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to will away the memory of her final moments.

  When Les opened his eyes, he was looking at Deliverance.

  The ship was magnificent. At two-thirds the Hive’s size and without the vulnerable and unwieldy gas bladders, it was a sleek design with thrusters and turbofans built for speed and maneuverability. Judging by the smoky creases in the hull, the ship had taken one hell of a beating on the flight into Miami. But the lights on the undercarriage told Les it was still operational. With Samson’s help, they would be able to get her into the air.

  Hair-raising wails came from the sky, where Sirens wheeled over the arena. They kept their distance, but they were hunting.

  Across the stadium, Sergeant Jenkins flashed hand signals down the rows. Del Toro, Lore, and Samson followed close behind. Most of the group had never seen the surface before, and they all moved with extra caution, darting glances all around like nervous children entering a dark room.

  The soldiers continued down the east side of the seating area while Erin led Olah and Les down the western rows. Relying on their night-vision optics, they kept all lights and headlamps off. So far, the only sign they had seen of Commander Everhart and his comrades were boot prints leading from the bottom of the ship across the field. There were four sets, meaning four members of Team Raptor were still alive.

  Les hoped they had missed the rogue divers. He was still praying for a peaceful resolution. Olah and the militiamen, however, looked hell-bent on carrying out the captain’s orders.

  “Samson, you know where the door is to this ship?” Jenkins asked over the comm channel.

  “Should be a ramp underneath.”

  Jenkins motioned for the engineer to stay put at the bottom row of the stadium’s shattered seats. Then he flashed signals across the field to Erin. She looked over at Olah and Les, giving them a nod.

  Reluctantly, he leveled his blaster at the ship. He had no idea whether it would even fire after being submerged in the water. After some thought, he holstered the weapon and pulled out his pistol. He thumbed back the hammer with a click and continued down the steps after Erin and Olah.

  At the bottom row, Erin raised a fist, and everyone stopped. She and Olah ducked down behind the low wall, and Les followed suit as best he could, folding his rangy frame into a ball just as a Siren swooped over the stadium. The eyeless face scanned the field. Soaring away, it let out a screech that was equally terrifying and heartbreaking.

  That thing isn’t so different from us, he mused. Just trying to survive and care for its young. Its ancestors were as human as we are, after all.

  “Hold your fire,” Sergeant Jenkins said over the comm channel. His raspy breathing told Les he was nervous—and for good reason.

  Lightning struck the upper seats. The tremendous thunder crack that followed seemed to come from all sides at once. A second creature answered the call of the first, the sound reverberating like an emergency siren over the waning boom of thunder. Les tried harder to tuck his body behind the wall.

  “Stop where you are and come no farther!” shouted a voice from the field.

  He glanced over at Erin, who raised a finger—a single contact. Olah looked over the ledge and shouldered his rifle.

  “On the fucking ground!” Olah shouted.

  Les and Erin both stood and angled their weapons at the shimmery figure hovering over a ramp that had extended from the belly of the ship.

  “What the hell?” Les muttered. It looked like a ghost, but that was crazy. No crazier than Sirens, though.

  “Please do not shoot,” the man said, raising a hand. “I wish you no harm.”

  “Who are you, and where is Commander Everhart?” Jenkins demanded. The soldiers hopped over the wall and trotted out onto the field.

  “I am Timothy Pepper. Commander Everhart is no longer here.”

  “That’s the AI Jordan was talking about,” Olah remarked. He jumped over the wall before Erin could object.

  “Come on,” she said to Les.

  Timothy held up both hands and retreated several steps.

  “Stay where you are!” Jenkins ordered.

  Timothy halted on the ramp. “I do not wish you any harm,” he repeated, “but I will be forced to use the ship’s weapons systems if you do not lower your firearms.”

  “Fuck that,” Olah said, “he’s bluffing. I say we pump this guy full of lead.”

  “He’s a hologram, you idiot,” Les muttered.

  “Erin, Les, go stand sentry with Samson,” Jenkins said, looking in their direction.

  Erin hesitated and then jerked her helmet at Les. She was no longer in charge down here. The militia soldier was calling the shots—literally, it seemed. Olah linked up with his comrades and continued toward the AI. By the time Les and Erin reached Samson, the soldiers had the AI surrounded.

  “We’ve come for the ship, Commander Everhart, and any other surviving divers,” Jenkins said. “Tell us where the divers are, and I’ll make sure Chief Engineer Samson doesn’t wipe your consciousness from the hard drive when we board this ship.”

  The AI suddenly vanished, and the hydraulics on the ramp hissed, raising the platform.

  “Stop!” Jenkins shouted. He bolted forward as another shout rang out—a gruff voice that Les had never heard before.

  “Drop your damn weapons!”

  A man in a black jumpsuit, with armor similar to a Hell Diver’s, emerged on the top of Deliverance, with a rifle trained downward on the militia soldiers.

  “Don’t move,” said a voice right behind Les. He lowered his pistol and slowly turned to see two more Hell Divers at the top of the concourse, their rifles aimed at him, Erin, and Samson.

  Now they were the ones surrounded.

  Jenkins kept his aim on the man on top of the airship but instructed the other militia soldiers to look at the stairs.

  “Start walking,” the woman behind him said.

  A brilliant flash of lightning illuminated the stadium, and Les saw who had the drop on them. It was Michael Everhart and Layla Brower.

  Samson recognized them, too. “Holy shit, Michael! It’s me, Samson.”

  “I see you,” Michael said coldly. “Now, start walking onto the field.”

  “Go to hell,” Olah shouted, raising his gun.

  “Drop your weapons or Samson gets one to the head!” bellowed the man from the top of the airship.

  “What?” Samson said, shocked. “Please, you can’t …”

  “Shut up, Samson,” Layla snapped. “You shouldn’t have come down here.”

  Les strained to see the man perched on Deliverance, but he already had a feeling he knew who it was. It had to be Xavier Rodriguez. No one else would have been so brazen.

  The legend was real after all, and he appeared ready to unload a magazine into the men who marooned him all those years ago. Les didn’t blame him one damn bit for wanting revenge.

  The entire thing had been a trap, with the AI serving as the bait.

  “We don’t want any trouble,” Samson said, raising his hands.

  “Bullshit,” Layla said. “You came here to steal our
ship.”

  “Jordan’s orders,” Erin said, turning to look at Layla.

  Jenkins and his men kept their weapons pointed in both directions. It would take only an inopportune twitch for a firefight to erupt. With Sirens hunting in the area, Les had a feeling that things were about go downhill very soon.

  “Surrender, and I’ll make sure you get a fair trial once we get back into the sky,” Jenkins said.

  “Hah!” Layla said. “That’s funny. Jordan’s idea of fair is pushing anyone he doesn’t like out of a launch tube.”

  Jenkins didn’t reply. He couldn’t. There were plenty of rumors about the things the sergeant had done under Jordan’s orders. Intimidation, beatings, and worse.

  The two groups on the field were maybe a hundred feet apart, but the man in black remained on the top of the ship, keeping his gun on Jenkins.

  “It doesn’t have to be like this,” Michael said. “There’s still time to join us. To take back the ship from—”

  “Fuck you, traitor,” Olah said. “Jordan is the only person keeping humanity alive.”

  Layla pointed her rifle at his chest. “Say one more word and you’re Siren shit.”

  Samson turned to Michael. “Please, son. You’re an intelligent, reasonable man. I promise I’ll do everything I can to fix this.”

  “There is no fix when it comes to Jordan,” the man in black said. “That bastard left me down here for a decade. The only fix I can see is my dog eating his face.”

  Lore and Del Toro began to lower their rifles, but Jenkins kept his gaze on the figure up top. It was definitely X. All the pieces fit. Ty had been right all along. Les scanned the area, looking for this mysterious dog. He remembered the ship’s dogs from his childhood, and he would very much like to see one again.

  “You’re a traitor just like the rest of these assholes,” Olah said to X. “Captain Jordan was right to leave you behind.”

  “Dad, Michael and Layla are right,” Erin said. “Please, let’s all just lower our guns.”

  “Stay out of this, sweetheart,” Jenkins snapped. “We have orders to—”

  A pair of Sirens flapped over the south end of the stadium, distracting everyone for a moment—everyone but Olah. He fired his machine gun at Layla, knocking her down in the blink of an eye.

  The screams and gunfire agitated the monsters, and they soared away as Layla crashed to the ground. Michael screamed and fired off a blast. Les tried to move, but he was paralyzed. He could only watch as the battle raged all around him.

  X and Jenkins had both opened fire. Bullets cut into the dirt to the right of the sergeant, who unleashed a salvo into the top of the ship. X held his ground and fired another burst, catching Jenkins in the center of the chest.

  “Dad!” Erin screamed.

  Jenkins managed to squeeze the trigger once more, but Les couldn’t see whether X was hit. The diver stumbled and fell over the side of the ship, vanishing from view.

  Michael had opened fire at Olah, who dived for cover just in time. Del Toro and Lore fanned out, but Michael quickly turned his barrel on Lore and shot him three times in the side. The soldier crumpled to the ground. Del Toro took a knee and aimed at Michael, but the diver was too fast. A shot punched through the center of Del Toro’s visor.

  Olah had taken cover behind a massive leg of the landing gear. He popped out and aimed at Michael, firing a shot that took him down.

  Michael hit the dirt hard a few feet from Layla. Both of them writhed in pain as Olah emerged from his hiding spot. He approached cautiously, weapon shouldered.

  Erin ran over and knelt beside her father. He locked hands with her, still alive but gasping for air. “Dad,” she sobbed as she draped herself over him. “Daddy, please … don’t go.”

  Les searched for X, but he was nowhere in sight. He glanced down and saw a pistol lying in the dirt. Had he dropped his weapon, or was it someone else’s? He bent down to pick it up.

  Olah strode over to Layla and Michael, weapon angled down. He kicked their weapons away.

  “Stop!” someone shouted. The hologram had reappeared on the ramp as it lowered back to the dirt. “Please, please don’t kill them. They are my responsibility.”

  “Captain Jordan’s orders,” Olah said. He moved his finger to the trigger.

  Without even thinking, Les brought up the pistol and fired two shots into the side of Olah’s helmet. The rounds punched through metal and skull. The soldier fell like a board, dead on impact.

  Les lowered the gun and stared at it in his shaking hands.

  “Tin,” Layla groaned, reaching out for Michael. His hand gripped hers and he squirmed closer to her.

  “Drop it,” said a voice. Les saw a figure limping toward him. A second creature, on all fours, moved by the man’s side. It took Les a moment to figure out that the thing in the oddly shaped helmet and rad suit was indeed a dog.

  Les let the gun fall in the dirt.

  Samson held up his hands but didn’t say a word. He moved over to Layla and Michael. The commander was on his knees now, a hand clamped over Layla’s stomach. Blood gushed from a hole in her armor.

  “Michael, you okay?” X asked.

  “My armor stopped the bullet, but Layla’s hit,” he said. “We have to stop the bleeding.”

  X looked at the sky. “We have to get out of here before those Sirens get brave.”

  Erin walked over, tears streaming down her face. “You shot my dad, you bastard!” she yelled, reaching for X as if she wanted to strangle him. He grabbed her hands as she swatted at his helmet.

  “I’m sorry, but he was on the wrong side of this,” X said.

  Les held Erin back while X helped Michael and Layla. “We all were.”

  “Where are Mags and Rodger?” X asked.

  Michael shook his helmeted head. “I don’t know. They aren’t responding.”

  “Let go of me!” Erin shouted.

  “You have to be quiet,” Les replied. He slowly loosened his grip, watching her to make sure she didn’t attack X.

  Everyone fell silent, shocked by the violence. Erin had stopped sobbing, but her gaze was locked on her dead father. X and Michael picked Layla up and carried her to the ramp, with Timothy leading them to a cargo bay. The dog trotted after them, glancing back at Les, Erin, and Samson, who remained in the dirt where they were.

  “What are we supposed to do?” Samson asked.

  “You can stay here, for all I care,” X said.

  “No,” Michael said. “We’ll need them to help us capture the Hive.”

  * * * * *

  Lieutenant Hunt burst into Jordan’s office. “Sir, we made contact with Samson on the surface,” he said.

  Jordan, who had just dozed off, snapped alert. “Did they take Deliverance?”

  A smile on Hunt’s exhausted face told Jordan the mission had been a success. But the smile quickly faded. “We lost a lot of people on the landing. Apparently, their pod hit the water, and the only survivors were Samson and Sergeant Jenkins.”

  Jordan massaged the side of his head. He didn’t have a strong liking for either Del Toro or Lore, but they were reliable and would be missed.

  “So Erin and her team were able to complete the mission.”

  “Yes, sir. They killed Commander Everhart and Layla, but Sergeant Jenkins and Olah were both mortally wounded in the battle.”

  The news surprised Jordan enough that he didn’t reply immediately. He imagined the fight on the surface and found it grimly satisfying.

  “Erin, Samson, and Les survived,” Hunt said, “but there’s no sign of X, Rodger, or Magnolia.”

  Jordan folded his hands on his desk and considered the implications. They had lost several experienced soldiers but gained an entire airship—a prize well worth the cost.

  “Sir, Deliverance has been damaged, but Samson and Les are work
ing on getting it in the air. They want to dock with the Hive so our engineering team can perform more repairs.”

  “How long until they arrive?” Jordan asked.

  “Samson thinks he can have her in the air in a few hours. We should start flying in their direction.”

  “Make it happen,” Jordan said. “I’ll meet you in a few minutes. Until then, you have the bridge.”

  Hunt nodded and left Jordan in the dimly lit room. He sat there in silence, considering all that had happened and how to move forward. There was much to do to prepare for docking with Deliverance.

  Jordan stood and grabbed the sword off the wall. He stepped out onto the bridge and looked at his officers. Soon this place would be mostly empty, and Jordan would have a new command center aboard a new vessel. He couldn’t wait to see her.

  He strode out over the metal platform with his hands behind his back. He wished his child could have been around to see their future home. And Katrina, too, for that matter, but he had other plans for her.

  “Listen up, everyone,” Jordan said. He waited until he had every officer’s attention. Eyes filled with hope and fear looked at him. For the first time in the history of the Hive, he could promise these people a new home—a better home. He would be remembered forever for what he was about to do.

  “In a few hours, we will rendezvous with the airship Deliverance. All operations will eventually move to the new ship, which is faster, safer, and more advanced than the Hive in every way. She will indeed be our Deliverance. I promised to guide you to salvation, and that’s exactly what I’ve done.”

  All around him, officers exchanged glances. Ensign Ryan stood at his station and clapped once, then twice. Several other officers joined in, and after a beat, the entire room erupted in applause.

  Jordan had finally won. All the traitors were dead, and he had secured the future of the human race and her name was Deliverance.

  * * * * *

  Rodger woke up to find himself lying on a hard surface, staring up at black clouds. White lines like a spiderweb stretched across the sky. He groaned, trying to remember where he was and why his head felt as if someone had put it in a vise and tightened it a couple of turns.