She tapped it against the bark of the closest tree. It came on again, illuminating what looked like grayish moss clinging to a low branch. The moss suddenly moved in the glow, forming a humanoid shape that turned an eyeless face to her.
The wingless monster dropped from the tree and hit the ground running.
Ada aimed, said a prayer, and pulled the trigger.
The beast skidded to a stop a few feet away from her, squirting blood onto her boots.
Ada stepped around the carcass and kept searching the jungle, ducking branches and hopping over vines.
A squeaking stopped her in midstride.
The noise was coming from behind a tree to her right. She went around it, pointing her rifle into the brush. A hairy, curled hand of four fingers reached out from under a fallen palm frond. Big black eyes blinked at her.
“It’s okay,” she whispered.
The dark eyes widened. A high screech sounded as Ada whirled with the butt of her gun, slamming it into another eyeless face.
The Siren slumped to the ground with a broken skull.
Ada grabbed the monkey and took off running through the jungle with it clutched against her. Something grabbed her ankle, and she kicked at what proved to be a vine. Two more kicks, and she snapped it free from the ground and dragged it with her.
Shrieks echoed through the jungle. For a fleeting moment, she considered trying to hide, but they would find her eventually. Unless . . . She recalled what she knew about the abominations: that they evolved from humans. That males flew and females didn’t. And that they were attracted to energy.
That was it! They were drawn to her light. But she couldn’t shut it off until she got back to the beach. What she needed was a distraction.
A beetle skittered across her path, stopping to click its mandibles at her. The old Ada might have screamed, but the new Ada punted it into the air.
The monkey pressed its face against her as she ran. Branches cracked, and a wail came from above.
When she got back to the beach, she shut off her light and slung her rifle. She could flee by the glow of lightning.
She stumbled across the beach, listening to the electronic wails of the monsters. They seemed to be coming from all directions.
One swooped from the sky, and she ducked behind a boat she had passed earlier.
Then she was running again, lungs burning, toe throbbing, heart pumping. She didn’t stop until she was past the rock outcropping where her gear was stored.
Her capsized boat wasn’t far now.
In the wake of lightning, she spotted the concrete walkway where the leeches ate the frog and then the parent of the monkey. Her boat was somewhere between her and the walkway. She spotted it in the next flash of lightning.
The wails grew louder, and she counted at least five, maybe six of the monsters sailing through the air, plus the females on the ground, prowling the beaches.
She finally made it to her boat, where she set the monkey down and reloaded her rifle. Then she reached into her vest and pulled out a flare. It ignited after two strikes.
Flames burst out, spreading a red glow over the beach. She waved it back and forth and saw long, skeletal shadows moving across the sand. In the sky, the males circled like hawks.
The females inched closer, clicking their teeth. A beast with an underbite charged at Ada, giving its discordant shriek. The monkey grabbed her leg, but she held her ground, waiting until the last instant.
One by one, the other Sirens charged on land and swept down from the sky.
Reaching over the transom, she twisted the cap off the second fuel tank. Then she dropped the flare in the boat, picked up the monkey, and ran. The Sirens raced toward the flare.
She sprinted twenty paces before an explosion boomed behind her, and pained cries rang out. She used the glow of the fire to run, glancing over her shoulder once to see burning monsters flopping about like beached fish.
Ada tripped, regained her balance, and didn’t stop running until she got to the rock outcropping. Flames lit up the beach in the distance.
She set the monkey down, unslung her rifle, and switched the light back on. Then, picking up the pack she had left in the dirt, she took off for the catamaran.
Most of the gear would have to wait for later. First, she needed to check the condition of the boat, and then she must find a way to get it into the water.
The monkey followed her and climbed inside with her.
The distant cries of the beasts echoed through the afternoon as she checked the boat. Ducking into the cabin, she found out why it was in such good shape.
A corpse lay on a bunk, pistol in hand, and a hole in its skull. The skeletal remains were old but not ancient. This person had come here long after the war.
Ada looked at the controls. The boat had no engine, just a battery for the navigation system, which had a cracked screen. She doubted that it worked. Old-world technology had advanced to the point that a storage battery could hold its charge indefinitely, but it wouldn’t help if the GPS was shot.
The wails faded away as she worked for the next few hours to get the boat seaworthy. The monkey followed her, watching curiously as she went outside and started jamming boards under the stern. Using masts scavenged from other boats, she began to build a ramp down the sloping beach.
If all went to plan, the tide would come up and dislodge the sailboat enough that she could slide it down the ramp, into the water. Then she would use the rudders and the mainsail to guide it out to sea on the high tide—assuming, of course, that the sails weren’t in bad shape and that she could figure out how to rig them.
She walked over and went to work to haul out the buried sails. One needed patching, but if she could get the mainsail up, she could rig the other two once she was out to sea.
She returned to the cabin, which had seats and a table with loads of cabinets, some hanging open. Ignoring the gear inside, she went straight for the navigation system.
She played the flashlight over the controls. After fiddling with the various dials and toggle switches on the panel for an hour with no luck, she returned outside to listen for the beasts.
All she heard were chirping bugs and the soft lapping of wavelets on the sand. Satisfied she wasn’t being hunted, she went back to work, and two hours later, she had figured out how to get the mainsail up. The others would have to wait.
For now, she had done all she could to get the boat ready. Now the tide must do its part. If it came up high enough, it would lift the boat. Getting it through the surf was another question.
Ada took the pistol and dragged the corpse outside. She dug a grave, filled it with sand, and said a prayer for someone who had died in desolation and solitude.
Exhausted, she returned to the outcropping where she had left her gear and supplies. She loaded everything into the boat while the monkey sat on a crate inside the cabin, chewing happily on a piece of fish jerky.
“You are going to need a name,” Ada whispered. “I guess for now, I’ll call you Jo-Jo.”
The monkey swallowed, then just stared at her. Not at her, she realized. Its ears had picked up something that she heard a moment later.
A guttural roar in the distance raised the hair on her neck.
The monkey bolted into the tiny cabin and hid under the bunk.
Ada looked toward the decaying resorts beyond the beach, where the noise had come from. There was something else out there worse than Sirens and giant leeches.
Grabbing the hatch, she closed it and prayed. She could worry later about how to navigate the way home—right now she just needed to get them through the surf and away from this place.
* * * * *
From Magnolia’s balcony everything looked peaceful and serene. The whitecaps had settled, leaving the ocean glossy under a retreating sun.
A mauve skyline with st
reaks of magenta hypnotized her with its beauty. But this wasn’t the heaven they all thought it could be, and she was growing tired of trekking through hell to protect it.
Sky citizens and Cazadores had suffered in the ambush by the skinwalkers, and many of them would go to sleep tonight missing loved ones—in Rodger’s case, his parents. He sat on her bed now, head bowed, hands on his thighs. He wore plum trousers and a brown collared shirt he had bought from the trading rig last week.
Her white dress fluttered in the breeze. She had been saving it for Tin and Layla’s inevitable wedding, which everyone but Layla had seen coming.
Tonight, Magnolia would wear the dress to the memorial service for those lost in the attack. Grabbing the windowsill, she fended off a wave of dizziness. Her hearing was better, but her head pounded.
“Are you okay?” Rodger asked.
He glanced up, pushing his glasses up on his nose. A tear rolled down from one dark eye and vanished in his beard.
She sat down beside him and put her hand on his.
“I just took more medicine,” she said. “I’ll be okay; don’t worry about me.”
He looked down at his shoes.
“I can’t believe they’re both gone.”
She pulled his head over onto her shoulder.
“I’m so, so sorry.” She tried to smile, but it hurt her burned face. “You still have me.”
She looked at the wood carvings he had made for her over the years. The elephant and other animals on her nightstand were the only possessions besides her armor and blades that she actually cared about.
And Rodger was the only man she had ever . . .
“I love you, Rodger,” she blurted.
He pulled his head away, tilting it slightly.
“You’re my guy,” she said. “Seeing Tin and Layla on the pier earlier today helped me realize something I never thought I would want.”
Rodger gripped her hand. “You don’t have to say this because—”
“I’m not. I’m saying it because it’s true, Rodge.” Magnolia leaned in and kissed him on the cheek, then caught his gaze. “I love you, and I want to be with you for the rest of my life.”
However long that might be . . .
“After we lay your parents to rest, we’re going to face one of the toughest fights of our lives, but together we can get through it, and when this is all over, that’s what I want.”
Rodger got up and reached for both her hands. His calloused palms were comforting to her in the way her father’s had been, from what little she could remember of the man.
“Magnolia Katib, you’ve had my heart since the moment I laid eyes on you, back when you were a rebel without a cause, stealing calorie-infused herb sticks from the trading post.”
She chuckled at the memory. “What color was my hair back then?” she asked.
“Blue.”
“You do remember.”
“Of course I do.”
She smiled, then sighed.
“What?” he asked.
Her eyes went to the mirror that she had been avoiding across the small room. The burns to her scalp were hideous beneath the bandage, and she doubted that her hair would even grow back.
“You’re beautiful no matter what,” Rodger said. He kissed her gently on the cheek and then helped her stand. “Now, come on. Let’s go bury my parents.”
Magnolia got up, dizzy from the sudden motion. She winced and lowered her head to touch her bandage.
“You sure you’re up for this?” Rodger asked, leaning down to look her in the eye.
“I’m fine. The gel is already helping heal the wound. The ruptured eardrum is what’s causing me issues.”
“Maybe you should sit down for a bit.”
“No.”
Rodger hesitated another moment, then looped her arm over his. He guided her out of the room, down the passage, and up the stairs to the rooftop.
People were already starting to gather, walking toward the tropical forest. Magnolia and Rodger took a winding path through the trees. The sunset’s glow bled through the canopy of banana leaves.
Magnolia spotted a spent shell casing in the dirt—a memento of the horrifying battle with the Sirens. Several militia soldiers had died along this path, torn open by the clawed beasts.
She tried to block out the memories and focus on being there for Rodger.
They were almost to the graveyard. A small group of people dressed in their finest clothes had gathered to pay final respects.
Dozens of bodies were wrapped in white cloth and laid neatly in a row near freshly dug graves. Shirtless men with shovels stood nearby, sweat dripping down their muscular bodies.
Rodger halted on the path, his lips quivering.
“I don’t know if I can do this,” he mumbled.
Magnolia tightened her grip on his hand. “You can. I’ll be right here with you.”
They walked out of the forest and around the newly dug graves.
Michael and Layla stood hand in hand at the front of the group. X was there, too, dressed in shorts and a wrinkled white shirt, half buttoned up and exposing the bandage over his chest. Unlike the last time she saw him on the docks, his skin had some color, but he still looked exhausted.
Standing behind him was the man they all once knew as Giraffe. Les towered over his wife and daughter. Samson was also here, staring ahead as if in a trance.
Both had come from the Shark’s Cage for the funerals and would be heading out as soon as they were over.
“Mags,” said a voice.
Sofia walked out of the group and gave Magnolia a hug.
“How are you doing?” Magnolia asked her.
“I’ll be better when I see Horn’s head on a stick,” Sofia replied coldly.
Rodger nodded. “Me, too.”
They weren’t the only ones who wanted revenge. Everyone standing in the crowd had lost a family member or good friend in the ambush—and not just sky people, either. Several Cazador civilians and soldiers had perished, but their bodies wouldn’t be laid to rest here; they would be given back to the sea.
Alberto, too, would be buried at sea. Magnolia thought of the quiet Hell Diver. Though she hadn’t known him well, she had liked him.
She walked with Rodger and saw the first of the corpses. Lieutenant Sloan’s body was wrapped alongside the remains they had recovered of Rhino. There wasn’t much of the deceased general—mostly bones, armor, and his spears. But unlike his Cazador brother and sisters, he was not to be returned to the ocean. Not yet.
Felipe and Mac stood in front of his burial plot. Mac tapped the soil with his cane and shook his head wearily.
X waited for more people to gather as the sun sank through the horizon. Torches went up across the rooftop, spreading a fiery glow over patrolling militia soldiers.
Sergeant Wynn and Colonel Forge were on the open water, just in case. They had already deployed the underwater sensors and repaired machine-gun nests and twenty-millimeter cannons on both rooftops.
If the skinwalkers returned, they would be ready this time.
At the sound of a scratchy voice, Magnolia looked up.
“We’ve gathered yet again to honor our lost loved ones,” X said. “And like I told the council and the Hell Divers earlier today, before this is over, we will gather again to bury more of our loved ones.”
Several people mumbled.
“How do we fight such evil, King Xavier?”
The voice belonged to Dom, the chef famous for his orange noodles.
“I heard the machines are coming,” someone else said.
Magnolia wasn’t sure how that had gotten out, but it was always only a matter of time. She fully expected X to curse and try to mitigate the rumors, but he spoke the truth.
“It’s possible they will come,” he said.<
br />
Chatter broke out through the crowd.
“But there is only one way to stop them,” X said. “Only one way to protect this place and ensure that the heavy sacrifice so many have made was not in vain.”
Wind rustled the branches of the trees. A chill ran through Magnolia, and she gripped Rodger’s hand tighter. X walked over to the graves with Miles trotting to keep up.
After looking at the burial plots, X turned back to his people.
“I thought about what to say tonight,” he said. “Something that would encourage us all to keep fighting and give us hope in the face of such terror. But what I’ve realized over my life is that hope and courage come from the person standing by your side and at your back.”
Magnolia looked to Rodger. She also looked over her shoulder, at Sofia.
“For me, hope always came from knowing there were other Hell Divers in the sky, and brave warriors like General Rhino, who would give their lives to save mine, as I would for them. Tonight, we must remember that we are in this together and that we will fight, together.”
Wind again whistled over his echoing voice.
“You have my blade,” a voice boomed. Mac tapped his cane on the dirt again.
“Mine, too.” Adrian, Dom’s son, stepped out of the crowd. “I will fight,” he said. “And so will my dad.”
“We dive so humanity survives, sir,” Edgar said through wired-together jaws.
“Rhino stood by your side, and now we do, too,” said another Barracuda.
Arlo said, “I’ve still got a nickname to earn. You know I’m in.”
“I’m with you to the end,” Magnolia said.
“Me, too,” said Rodger.
Les and Michael remained quiet.
She knew why. They both had made promises about the future to their families. But Layla and Katherine had to know they didn’t have a choice. The future of the sky people—perhaps of all humankind—depended on Hell Divers now more than ever.
“Your bravery and support remind me why I accepted this position in the first place,” X said. “Together, we will win this final fight, but first, we must lay our loved ones to rest.”
Warriors Page 28
