Salvation was near. She just had to make it a bit farther.
The rifle barrel hit a bulkhead with a loud clank. A screech came in reply.
Ada scrabbled forward, low and fast. The screech had come from behind her, but she dare not turn with her lamp.
On all fours, she crawled under a section with higher clearance.
Almost there, almost . . .
The screech turned into a hiss. This time she did risk a glance.
Fur darted away from the beam, and the hissing faded. She started crawling fast when the creature bolted into the collapsed passageway, red eyes glowing in the light.
A scream escaped her when she saw the thing. The face and torso looked ratlike, but it had prosthetic legs and arms made of metal.
It scuttled toward her, the metal claws clicking on the deck. The same thing she had heard below.
Ada swung her rifle around and got the abomination in her sights. The thing opened its mouth, a snakelike tongue slithering out along with a hiss. Still screaming, she pulled the trigger.
The bullet took off a leg, and the creature flopped onto its side.
Not waiting to see whether it got back up, Ada crawled until she was free of the cramped passage. Standing, she slung her rifle, knowing she wouldn’t have time to load another round.
She unsheathed the machete instead and took off running for the hatch that led back to the deck outside. More hissing and screeching followed.
From the sounds, she had at least three of the mechanical rodents trailing her. When she got to the hatch, she swung it open and looked back just as they came skittering around the corner.
Only these weren’t all rodents. One was bigger than the others and had the face of a primate. Some sort of monkey, also with prosthetic metal limbs and tubes coming out of its torso.
She screamed again in horror.
Grabbing the hatch, she slammed it shut before any of the creatures could get outside. They thumped into the other side, mechanical claws scratching on metal.
Ada ran toward the bow of the ship. Halfway across the deck, something shattered behind her. Two of the creatures skidded down the bulkhead of the crushed command center. Another leaped out of the broken window.
Gripping the machete, she sprinted to the gunwale and peered over. Her boat was still there, but the chain had come undone and it was hanging only by the rope. She swung her legs over the other side as more creatures flooded out of the command center.
She would never be able to climb down before they got to her. The only option was to jump. But she couldn’t swim and jumping into the boat would break her legs and maybe her neck.
Her eye caught the life buoy she had seen earlier. It lay between her and the monsters, but she had no choice. For this to work, she must act fast.
With her machete in the air, she ran at the three monsters, screaming like a Cazador during the battle for the Metal Islands.
The monkey-faced creature leaped at her, and she swung the blade, hacking off its nose and knocking it away. Both rodents jumped at her at the same time. She ducked below them and slid.
Coming to a stop, she grabbed the buoy and wrapped it around her body with the rope and pack she wore.
A dozen of the mechanical hybrid monsters darted toward her from the command center, crossing the deck like a swarm of insects.
She ran, swiping at the two rodents that had jumped over her seconds earlier. Her machete took off two legs of the first beast, and she kicked the second in the face, sending it sailing like an old-world soccer ball.
When she got back to the gunwale, she took off the buoy, her bag, and the rope, which she uncoiled. The bag went overboard, onto the boat’s deck.
She tied one end of the rope to the machete’s hilt and snugged the machete between the rail bracket and the top edge of the hull, then grabbed the free end of the rope. Putting the buoy around her midsection, she climbed up onto the rail, hoping she had the courage to jump.
But the screeching, hissing monsters were all the motivation she needed. Holding the rope, she sprang out, over the boat, and watched the water rush up to meet her boots. She splashed under the surface.
She pulled on the rope she held, praying that the machete would stay locked in place. Hand over hand, she hauled herself toward the surface.
She finally burst through and flopped over the waves like a fish on a line. Then, kicking and pulling, she got to her boat.
Grabbing the side and hooking a heel, she managed to pull herself over the gunwale.
The mechanical monsters were already skittering down the hull like crabs.
She shook the machete loose, and when it fell, she pulled it out of the water and swung it against the bow rope mooring her boat to the ship. It took three hacks to sever the line, and two more to cut the stern rope. When it snapped, the boat lurched and she fell on the deck.
Dripping, she scrambled to the controls. The engine fired right up, and she steered away, not looking back until she had put some distance between herself and the ghost ship.
The hybrid beasts were climbing back up the hull, heading back to their lairs now they had missed out on their meal.
No more exploring, she thought. Stay focused and stay on course.
Speeding away, she wondered whether X would be proud of her performance back on the ship. One thing she had learned: she had better survival skills than she’d thought.
TEN
“There are too many of them, and they have us surrounded,” Michael said.
A holographic map of the Vanguard Islands hovered over the central table on the bridge of Discovery. The rest of the crew, including Rodger, Magnolia, Samson, Sofia, and Les, huddled around to look at the positions of every Cazador vessel, ranging from the smallest skiffs and runabouts to the warships.
Rookie Hell Divers Ted, Lena, Hector, and Alberto were also here, standing behind the table and ready to pitch in.
Les said, “Even if we can take them all out from the sky, it will expend the ammunition we need for . . .”
Michael still hadn’t quite processed everything they had learned back in the briefing room, but he knew what the captain wanted the ammunition for: to destroy the defector base in Africa.
They also had the skinwalkers to consider, and he had a feeling they would show up sooner rather than later. If they knew that X was dying, they would come now.
“Samson, get Lieutenant Sloan on the encrypted line,” Les said.
The chief engineer sat down at the comms station.
“What can we do?” Ted asked.
“Go to compartment two with Rodger,” Michael said. “Put on your gear, and be ready.”
“Ready for what, a dive?” Lena asked.
“Anything,” Michael said.
“Why do I have to go?” Rodger asked.
“Because I don’t think any of them even know where compartment two is,” Michael said.
“Go on, Rodger,” Mags said.
With a groan, he led the rookies and Sofia off the bridge just in time for a report from Samson.
“Lieutenant Sloan says the militia has been pulled back from the other rigs to protect the Hive and the capitol tower. So far, there have been no attacks on boats carrying our troops.”
Michael looked at the holographic map again. Several of the red dots representing Cazador vessels blinked to indicate movement. As he watched the warships Elysium and Renegade, the realization hit him.
“Colonel Moreto isn’t going to attack,” he said. “Not yet, at least.”
“How do you know?” Les asked.
“She’s waiting to see if X will die on his own.”
“I don’t understand how they even know about his condition,” Magnolia said.
“There’s a mole, maybe several, on the capitol tower,” Samson said. “The militia has done a s
weep, but it could be anyone.”
“Imulah and many other Cazadores have been living with us since the war ended,” Michael said.
“Imulah isn’t the rat,” Magnolia said. “He knows I’d skewer him in horrible ways.”
Les stroked his jaw, thinking. “The damage is already done,” he said. “Nothing we can do now but wait.”
“Or we could do what X did,” Michael said.
Les looked up from the table. “Not sure I follow you, Commander.”
“He went after Vargas and killed him before the bastard could make a play for the throne. We could do the same thing to Carmela.”
Magnolia seemed to like the idea. “I’ll take her out.”
“No one is taking out anyone unless they make a move,” Les said. “Colonel Forge still appears to be neutral. Think what would happen if we attacked Moreto.”
“All due respect, sir,” said Michael, “but it takes only one of their cannons to kill our families on the capitol tower. If you don’t want to waste ordnance, I’m sure we can figure something else out.”
Magnolia smirked, probably thinking the same thing Michael was.
“Oh, hell no,” Les said. “You want to dive?”
They both nodded.
“I’ll take the bitch dead or alive,” Magnolia said. “Just give me the order, Cap.”
Les seemed to consider their options, giving Michael a few stolen moments to do the same. Diving onto a Cazador warship was not the sanest of ideas. Layla definitely wouldn’t approve.
But Les was right about saving their ammunition unless they were forced to fire. There had to be a better way, and diving was the best he could think of.
“Timothy, any bright ideas?” Les asked.
The AI turned, stroking his perfectly groomed holographic beard.
“What about contacting Colonel Forge to try and negotiate his support?” Timothy asked. “I’ve observed his behavior over the past few months, and he seems to be the most reasonable of the Black Order.”
“We don’t know Forge,” Magnolia said. “We can’t trust him.”
“Perhaps, though I believe it was Colonel Vargas and Colonel Moreto who threatened X all along,” Timothy said. “But I don’t believe she has full support of the fractured military.”
“I hope you’re right,” Les said.
“So X and Rhino killed the wrong officer on the Black Order,” Michael said.
Samson coughed, drawing everyone’s attention. The hefty engineer was getting weaker by the day, but he was still here, still working.
“General Rhino advised X to kill both of them, but X decided to send Colonel Moreto away to the Iron Reef, in Belize,” said the engineer. “X feared that killing her would cause more problems, and the best thing to do was send her on a mission.”
“So she made Renegade look disabled to buy time, instead of leaving for the Iron Reef?” Les said.
“That seems a logical assumption,” Timothy said.
“So why are we still talking? I say we end the bitch.” Magnolia stroked the hilt of one of her curved blades. “I’d be happy to do it free of charge.”
Les walked over to the open hatches and stared up at the glittery sky.
After seeing the captain make several knee-jerk reactions regarding the defectors, Michael was pleased to see him ponder this decision.
With each passing second, the threat of another battle became more of a reality.
The Cazadores were watching. They knew what the sky people were doing, and Carmela, like a snake, waited to strike.
“Captain,” Timothy said, “I’m detecting gunfire on the surface.”
“Where?”
Michael joined the huddle around the map.
“Here.” Timothy pointed to the second-biggest red dot on the map.
“That’s Renegade,” Michael said.
“Yes, Commander.”
“Can you get us a visual?” Les asked.
“Negative, Captain. The gunfire is limited in scope and appears to be isolated to that one ship.”
The radio buzzed, and Samson brought the transmission over the speakers.
“Captain, this is Lieutenant Sloan, do you copy?”
“Copy, Lieutenant. What’s going on down there?”
“I’m not sure, sir, but there’s some sort of battle taking place on Renegade’s weather deck.”
“Can you move some of our vessels to get a closer look?”
“Might be risky, but your call, sir.”
Les glanced over at Michael and Magnolia.
“We need to know what’s going on,” Michael said.
“Agreed,” Les said. “Lieutenant, send in your best to get a visual, and report back.”
“Copy that, sir.”
Les paced along the map as they waited.
“Sir,” Magnolia said, “if you want your best down there, you should send me and Tin.”
Les halted.
“We’ll dive in under cover of darkness,” Michael said. “They’ll never see us coming or know we’re there.”
“It’s too dangerous,” Les said. “And if this is a coup, we need to stay out of it.”
“All due respect, but if this is a coup, we need to make sure the right side wins,” Michael said. “Let Mags and me go. We won’t interfere, but we will report back to you.”
“We wait until we hear from Lieutenant Sloan,” Les said firmly.
Michael didn’t protest. He was already in hot water with the captain for their argument outside the medical ward. And Michael still felt guilt over the death of Les’s son in Jamaica.
Minutes ticked by. Two hours had already passed since they took to the sky, and the bomb’s fuse was hovering very near the flame.
White noise filled the bridge. Samson worked the radio to clear it. The doors whisked open, and Rodger returned.
“The rookies are with Sofia in compartment two,” he said. “What’d I miss?”
Les put a finger to his mouth as the transmission played over the speakers.
“Captain, this is Lieutenant Sloan again. We’ve got eyes on Renegade via Sergeant Wynn and a team . . .”
Static broke up the transmission.
“Come again, Lieutenant?” said Les. “I didn’t catch your last.”
“Wynn is reporting other Cazador vessels and boats sailing for Renegade,” Sloan replied, “but we’re not sure who is who.”
“You were right, this is a coup,” Les said to Michael.
“But who’s leading it?” Magnolia said.
The speakers crackled again.
“Captain, I just got another report from Wynn,” Sloan said. “They’re hearing something about a team of Barracudas that boarded Renegade, and small-arms fire on the deck.”
Rodger joined the group around the map, keeping quiet.
“General Rhino’s old team?” Magnolia said.
“I’ll be damned,” Michael said. “General Rhino is still protecting X, even in death.”
He stepped up to Les. “Sir, permission to dive and help them.”
“Me, too,” Magnolia said.
Rodger chimed in. “Me, too.”
“No,” Magnolia and Michael said in unison.
Les snorted and looked at the overhead. “All right, Commanders,” he said. “Permission to dive, but no one else.”
Michael smiled.
“And, Commanders,” Les said, “please see that the Barracudas win this fight.”
* * * * *
Pinpricks glowed across the surface like a halo of burning stars. From the airship’s lower compartment, one might have confused the ocean below with a constellation in the night sky. But Magnolia knew better. The lights were torches burning on the decks of Cazador vessels that had surrounded the Hive and the capitol tower b
elow.
She crouched near an open hatch in the deck of compartment two on Discovery, where the hoist cables remained coiled like massive snakes. Michael stood nearby, checking his gear one last time.
The other divers were all here, trying to get a good look.
“I should be coming,” Rodger said.
Magnolia leveled her helmet at him. “Rodge, I’m going to say this once more. You. Stay. Here. Got it?”
“If you get into trouble, then—”
“Rodge, you break a direct order, and we’re going to have major problems,” Michael said.
Magnolia stood and tapped her wrist monitor to check her systems. They had rushed to get into their gear and grab their weapons. Everything had been relocated because the new passengers were still quarantined in the launch bay.
She latched the leather pad over her battery unit to mask the glow. No need to give anyone an easy target.
“Good to go,” she said.
Michael pulled a fresh magazine from his tactical vest and slapped it into his rifle.
“Captain, this is Raptor One,” he said. “Ready to dive.”
“Raptor Two, online and ready,” Magnolia confirmed.
“Be careful,” Les said.
Michael crouched near the open hatch in the deck. “Hope you’re listenin’ to the cap,” he said over his shoulder.
“Yeah, yeah,” she muttered.
Michael tapped his wrist computer, bringing the target up on their HUDs.
“DZ is the upper weather deck of Renegade,” he said. “Think you can handle it?”
“Think you can?” Magnolia quipped.
“We’ll find out soon. See ya down there.”
With that, Michael dropped through the wide hatch with his arms over his chest, plummeting into the night. Magnolia followed.
They were only at ten thousand feet—barely half a minute to pull their chutes.
Moonlight sparkled in a white streak across the choppy water. In its glow, rusted towers rose from the water, lights burning across platforms where thousands of civilians lived.
After months of living alongside these people, she had started to put aside their differences and accept them, even after once being their prisoner. Fighting alongside General Santiago and especially Lieutenant Alejo, who had sacrificed himself so she could escape with Rodger, had helped her bury the hatchet.
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