Warriors

by Nicholas Sansbury Smith

He covered his mouth and rose to his feet, feeling as if he were about to puke. Mac was reading the note written in Spanish.

  “What does it say?” X asked.

  “Nothing good, sir,” Mac replied.

  * * * * *

  After being summoned, Les had taken a boat back to the capitol tower straight from the Shark’s Cage. But with communications down, he had no idea what to expect—only that something had been discovered on the eastern barrier.

  From the marina he went straight to the council chamber, not even stopping to say hello to his wife and daughter. He carried an important message of his own for the king.

  The double doors were shut, guarded by a militia soldier and a Cazador soldier.

  They opened the door, and he walked into the room.

  Dozens of faces turned in the dim torchlight. A group of Hell Divers, soldiers, and advisors had gathered around the council table.

  X stood at the throne, Miles at his feet. “Captain,” he said in a gruff, defeated voice, “I hope you brought me some good news about Discovery.”

  Les halted between Ton and Victor and ran a hand through his red frizz.

  “She’s in bad shape, King Xavier,” he said. “Samson still isn’t sure he can get some of the systems back online without a trip to the wastes.”

  X cursed under his breath. He looked much older this afternoon. The salt-and-pepper hair seemed mostly salt. The years of diving and fighting were taking their toll.

  “There’s something you need to hear,” X said. “Have a seat.”

  Les went to the council table. Every chair was occupied, but Edgar got up and offered his chair.

  “That’s okay,” Les said. “I’ll stand.”

  He took a second to scan the faces.

  Rodger sat next to Magnolia, his head bowed in grief. Imulah, Colonel Forge, Mac, Felipe, and every living Hell Diver were sitting or standing around the table. Pedro was also here.

  Everyone had the same solemn expression: frowns, wrinkled brows, sunken eyes.

  “We have a decision to make,” X said. “And this time, it’s something that I can’t, and won’t, make on my own. It will affect everyone’s future, sky people and Cazadores alike.”

  Imulah translated to Colonel Forge in a slow, almost slurred speech due to the medicine he took for his burns. When he finished, X stepped to the top landing of the platform.

  “The mission this morning to find Raven’s Claw failed, resulting in the death of Alberto and the destruction of Cricket,” he said. “We know now that the mission never had a chance from the beginning—Raven’s Claw and the submarines retreated long ago.”

  He rubbed the back of his neck and winced.

  “The militia boat that Lieutenant Sloan pursued the submarines with during the attack was recovered, along with her skinned, mutilated body and the bodies of two of her soldiers,” he said. “I don’t know how we missed it, but we did.”

  “What!” Les said. “How . . .”

  “We don’t know,” said Sergeant Wynn in a quivering voice.

  The discovery of her body, especially the brutality of her death, rocked Les to his core.

  X bowed his head, clearly shaken. He gestured to Imulah. “Go ahead and read the note Mac found.”

  Imulah stood up from his chair and held the note in his bandaged hand.

  “If the occupying hostile force from the sky does not leave, and the false prophet Xavier Rodriguez vacate the throne, the Metal Islands will be destroyed,” Imulah said. “The recent attack was just a taste of our strength.”

  “Let them come,” Arlo interrupted. “With the underwater sensors deployed and our fleet reorganized, they won’t stand a chance.”

  “Quiet,” X snapped. He nodded at Imulah again.

  “We have taken the face of your lieutenant and will return to skin the rest of you if you do not heed our orders. But it won’t be just us coming to take your flesh,” read the scribe. “We will send the metal gods to finish you off.”

  Imulah paused to look at X, who nodded for him to continue.

  “In the time Lord Horn has been away from the Metal Islands, we have searched for the machines, and we have joined them.”

  “No,” Les whispered.

  “If you do not leave the islands, you will experience the beautiful wrath of the machines in all their violent glory,” Imulah continued. He lowered the note. “It is signed by a scribe I knew long ago, a man who now serves Horn.”

  “He’s bluffing,” Magnolia said. “The defectors wouldn’t join with humans. Their sole mission is to kill us.”

  “Maybe, but we have no way of knowing that,” Michael replied. “We can’t ignore the threat and hope it’s a lie.”

  “I agree,” Edgar said through his clenched and wired broken jaw.

  “We have to go after Horn,” Rodger said. “That’s the only answer.”

  “Rodge, I know you’re upset, but how are we going to do that?” Magnolia said calmly. “Finding Raven’s Claw and those submarines will be like finding a needle inside a haystack in a farm field full of haystacks.”

  “I don’t care,” Rodger said. “I was a coward after el Pulpo tried to kill me, and now his son has killed my parents. I’ll do whatever it takes to find them. Even if it means fixing up the Hive and taking her into the air to search for these animals.”

  “I disagree,” Wynn said. He looked to X and then to Colonel Forge. “I say the militia and the Cazador forces do everything we can to tighten the defenses, and then we wait for Horn or the machines to come.”

  Arlo muttered something under his breath about their being screwed.

  Les walked over to Pedro. Without an interpreter, it would be hard to communicate, but he had to try. The survivor from Rio de Janeiro was key to humanity’s future, maybe even more than X.

  Everyone looked at Les as he moved around the table.

  “There is another option,” he said. “One that will solve the problem of the machines forever.”

  The room went silent, all eyes on Les. He thought of his wife and daughter, but his heart told him this was the only way to save them.

  “King Xavier, once Discovery is fixed, I’m requesting permission to fly it to Africa, where I will destroy the ITC mainframe controlling the DEF-Nine units. From my conversations with Pedro here and Timothy, that’s what humans tried to do two hundred and fifty years ago.”

  “And how’d that work out for ’em?” Sofia asked. “The machines have been hunting down people outside our little slice of loco heaven for centuries.”

  From the platform, X said, “I thought you said the airship is in bad shape.”

  “It is,” Lex replied, “but the parts we need are pretty generic. If we can find them here on the rig, we can get our repairs done in a week max. Flying at full speed with our upgraded boosters, it will take less than two days to get to the target in Africa. I’ve already checked.”

  X seemed to be considering it, then shook his head. “Captain Mitchells, if allied forces failed to do this during the war, what makes you think you can succeed with one airship?”

  “Because they didn’t have Hell Divers,” Les replied.

  “Shit’s crazy,” Sofia said. “You won’t even get close to their base before they blow you out of the sky.”

  “Going to have to agree with her,” Arlo replied. “No offense, Cap.”

  Michael sat silently, avoiding the gaze of Les and everyone else but Layla. She, too, was silent. The new engagement ring on her finger told Les why.

  “Can we just try and nuke the base from a distance?” Magnolia asked.

  Michael’s wrist monitor beeped, and he looked down to shut it off.

  “I want all options on the table,” X said. “That’s why I called you all here. What else do—”

  “Holy shit!” Michael said, nearly sh
ooting out of his chair. “It’s Cricket! The bot is online again.”

  X walked down the stairs and over to the table, and Les made his way over for a look at the screen.

  “I think I know what happened now,” Michael said. “I think Cricket found Raven’s Claw and followed it, and the storms blocked its signal. It must be somewhere that the storms aren’t interfering.”

  “That must be how they launched the yacht with Sloan’s body,” Magnolia said.

  “Do you know where Cricket is now?” X asked.

  Michael tapped his screen. “A place that was called Aruba.”

  Les leaned in for a better look.

  “I’m not familiar with this island,” Michael said, “but maybe Colonel Forge would know.”

  Imulah interpreted, and the colonel took a look.

  “La Escolta,” he said after a quick look at the map.

  “The Outrider,” Imulah explained. “The former colony that we abandoned many years ago.”

  X stroked his chin. “That’s where General Santiago believed Horn took Raven’s Claw after killing half his crew on a mission to North America.”

  “How do you know that?” Les asked.

  “Rhino and I found out through a former crew member serving time at the Shark’s Cage,” X said.

  Rodger stood. “So we go to the Outrider and kill them all,” he said. “Simple answer to all this.”

  “We have no idea what’s there, Rodge,” Michael said.

  “I don’t care what’s there,” Rodger snarled, “as long as Horn and Moreto are. I’m going to find them, skin them, and burn them alive.”

  Magnolia put a hand on his arm, but he pulled away.

  “What are we waiting for?” he said, glancing around with wild eyes. “Cricket just gave us a map to the place where we can end all this.”

  Everyone remained quiet, even X.

  “We have to go and kill Horn,” Rodger said. “I’ll go by myself if I have to.”

  “Rodge, it’s not that simple,” X said. “We need a plan before we set off. We need to do recon.”

  “Recon?” Rodger said. “What the hell for? We know what’s there.”

  Magnolia tried to soothe him, but again he pulled away. He looked to Michael, X, and finally Les. Then he stormed off.

  Magnolia called out after him. “Rodger, wait up.”

  The doors opened, and Rodger slipped between them, his footsteps echoing with Magnolia’s as she gave chase.

  X sat down on his throne, putting his hand on his head.

  “Everyone but Michael and Les, leave me,” he said.

  Michael kissed Layla on the cheek. She whispered something to him, and he nodded.

  “Actually, Layla, please stay,” X said. “I want your advice, too.”

  Les walked with Michael up to the base of the steps while the room emptied. Ton and Victor, last out, closed the doors.

  They creaked open a moment later, and Magnolia returned. X waved her forward.

  She joined Michael, Les, and Layla at the steps in front of the throne.

  “You four are my most trusted confidants,” X said. “I’ve known you all for a very long time, during which we’ve suffered and fought together enough for several lifetimes.”

  He pulled his hand away from his head and leaned down to stroke Miles.

  “What we do next could very well determine the fate of our people and the rest of our species,” he said. “And I want your opinions.”

  He looked first to Les.

  “I say we send Colonel Forge and some of our boats to the Outrider to destroy the skinwalkers,” Les said. “While simultaneously launching Discovery with a team of Hell Divers to Africa, to eliminate the defectors.”

  “I disagree with the second part,” Layla said. “Send our firepower to the Outrider and destroy the skinwalkers and keep the rest of our defenses back here just in case they aren’t bluffing about the machines.”

  “I don’t like the idea of going to Africa, either,” Magnolia said, glancing over at Les. “But I do think we should go to the Outrider. Strike before they can.”

  X looked to Michael last. So far, it was two against one.

  The young commander grabbed Layla’s hand, facing her. “I know you’re scared, but we can’t wait for them to attack. Rodger was right. Cricket gave us a map to destroy the skinwalkers, and Pedro has a map to the defectors.”

  Layla pulled her hand away from his.

  “We will never be safe if we don’t destroy both threats,” Michael said, turning back to X. “I say we take this fight to both enemies and surprise them before they come for us.”

  TWENTY-THREE

  Ada lay on a rocky outcrop overlooking a beach littered with boats. She had stashed the gear salvaged from her boat in a nook in the rocks.

  After a night of rest, she had set off to find a seaworthy vessel. About a mile away from her capsized boat, she had discovered a small catamaran with its sails stowed in the cabin, out of the weather. They looked potentially seaworthy if she could patch them up a bit.

  The boat reminded her a bit of the Sea Wolf, and while she had no idea how to operate it, she decided to check it out.

  Using her rifle scope, she pressed it to her repaired visor, making sure the path ahead was clear.

  A squeaking sounded behind her. The adolescent female monkey she rescued had followed her around for the past twelve hours, not leaving her side.

  While it was nice to finally have a companion, she worried that the creature would draw the attention of less benign beasts. Leeches weren’t the only things she worried about here.

  Another distant wail sounded, as if in answer.

  Ada remained prone, the rifle butt tucked against her shoulder. She didn’t see anything moving in the wake of lightning flashing over the beach, but that didn’t mean something wasn’t down there.

  She had a choice to make before she moved: bring her hairy friend with her or leave it here in the rocks with her gear.

  Another squeak forced her to turn.

  “Quiet,” Ada whispered.

  The monkey tilted its smooth, black face and blinked its big obsidian eyes. Of course, it couldn’t understand her, but there had to be a way to make it be quiet.

  Ada pointed to the dirt. Stay here. The monkey blinked again.

  She could barely see it at all in the sporadic lightning, but it must have adapted to see in the wastes, because the damn thing kept staring right at her.

  Standing, she started to leave the rock outcropping, but the creature cried out. Ada crouched back down and put a finger to her visor—another command the monkey didn’t understand.

  She pointed to the ground a second time.

  The primate cried again.

  Ada cursed. She had no choice.

  “Fine, come on.”

  She turned the flashlight, now mounted to the rifle barrel, and left the outcropping. She moved slowly through boulders, tangled roots, and debris. The monkey kept up easily, leaping from rock to rock.

  At the bottom, she swept her light over the beach before advancing toward the sailboat. The hull of another vessel provided a rest stop halfway there.

  She wiggled her toes, trying to keep the blood flowing. The broken toe with a missing nail, freshly wrapped, was feeling much better, and her stomach had calmed for now.

  X’s note and her new friend had completely changed her outlook on life. She was determined to get back to the Vanguard Islands.

  If she must die, it would be in the Sky Arena, by a Cazador spear or sword.

  But she didn’t plan on that fate, either. After her journey into the wastes, she felt she could best whatever opponent she faced there.

  After a few minutes’ rest behind the hull, she set off with the monkey following her on all fours. The rest of the way to the sa
ilboat looked clear.

  When she was almost there, she halted because the monkey had stopped. It was hunched down on the sand, trembling.

  “What is it?” she whispered.

  The monkey let out a peep, staring into the sky.

  Ada swung her rifle, and the light captured a frayed leathery wing flying over the water. It swooped downward, screeching an electronic discord out of a black maw in an eyeless face.

  She aimed her rifle and fired a round at center mass. The recoil knocked her back slightly. When she regained her balance, the beast had flapped away, releasing an angry wail that rose and fell like an emergency siren.

  From the ruins of a resort down the beach, another creature answered the call.

  She plucked a round from the bandolier and pushed it into the chamber. Again, she swept the sky until the beam found the wrinkled flesh.

  The beast swooped again, changing course, talons out.

  “no!” Ada yelled.

  The frightened monkey bolted for the mutant vegetation bordering the beach. Evading the talons, it vanished into the brush.

  Ada sighted in on the Siren, leading it slightly as she had been trained. The beast stooped, screeching.

  The round punched through the monster’s wing.

  Ada lit out after the monkey, reloading on the run, but the animal vanished into the dense jungle.

  She dropped a round and had to leave it.

  “Wait!” she called out.

  The injured Siren flapped away, but several others cried out.

  She jumped vines snaking over the sand and ducked skeletal branches the color of blood. Somewhere up ahead, the monkey cried.

  Pulling another round, she carefully got it into the chamber. In that moment, her foot caught under a root and she went down hard. The rifle flew from her hands.

  Ada pushed herself up and scrambled over to the weapon. A screech forced her to the ground again as another Siren sailed over the canopy.

  But they weren’t just in the air. She could hear the beasts in the jungle. Limbs crunched and snapped as they hunted.

  Fear gripped her, but she kept moving. A flash of pale, wrinkled skin darted past the beam as she picked up the rifle.

  Ada advanced, slower now, playing the light back and forth over thorn bushes and twisted vines. The beam flickered.