Hell Divers IV: Wolves

by Nicholas Sansbury Smith

  He unslung his rifle and opened the hatch to the tiny galley. Magnolia turned from the grill. She had a bandage wrapped around the top of her head. A bloodstain marked the top, but it didn’t seem to be bothering her.

  His arm was feeling better already, too. The gel had taken only a few hours to work, and the infection had subsided greatly.

  “Have a seat,” she said, gesturing toward the table.

  She held a pan over the grill, with two generous shark steaks sizzling inside. Grabbing a pinch of packaged seasoning from the Hive, she sprinkled it over the meat.

  “Smells pretty good,” X said.

  Magnolia shrugged a shoulder. “We’ll know in a few minutes how it tastes.”

  He flattened his body and sat around the oval table where they ate most of their meals. Miles jumped onto the padded cushion next to him and rested his body against the bulkhead.

  “You talk with the captain?” Magnolia asked. She kept her back to him while she cooked, probably because she didn’t want to look him in the eye. She knew he was upset with her for sending off the Cuba coordinates.

  “Yeah.”

  “And?” Magnolia flipped both steaks in the pan and added a touch of seasoning to the other side.

  “They’re on their way to Red Sphere, and she’s planning a dive.”

  “Is Michael with them?”

  “And Layla and Erin and our long, tall friend Les.”

  She finally turned from the two-burner grill.

  “I’m sorry, X. I didn’t send that info so they would come after us.”

  X laced his fingers together and raised them behind his head, resting them against the bulkhead. He knew she was lying, but he was too tired and too hungry to argue.

  “Okay, well, maybe I was hoping they would, but I promise I didn’t …”

  The vessel rocked slightly, and she pulled her hand away from the grill. “Ouch!”

  Timothy’s voice came over the speakers. “Prepare for choppy seas.”

  “Could have used some prior warning,” Magnolia grunted.

  “My apologies,” Timothy replied.

  She shook her burned hand.

  “You okay?” X asked.

  “Yeah … I’m fine.”

  She turned back to the grill, and he touched the screen built inside the table and pulled up a map of their location. The Sea Wolf, running on only one engine, was slowly working south from the Turks and Caicos Islands toward Hispaniola.

  They had a lot of ground left to cover, and he was starting to worry about their battery power. Without the ability to use their sails, if they lost the other battery, they would be at the mercy of the seas.

  “All right,” Magnolia said. “Hope this is good.”

  She brought two plates over from the grill, each with a shark steak and a small pile of frozen greens from the farm on the Hive.

  Miles stood on the seat and sniffed at X’s plate.

  “Hold on, boy; I didn’t forget about you,” she said, heading back to the grill. She grabbed a bowl and brought it back to Miles, setting it down on the table in front of him.

  He sniffed the contents.

  “What is that?” X asked. “Looks like cat food.”

  “How do you know what cat food looks like?”

  “Because I ate some when I was stranded on the surface five years ago.”

  Magnolia scrunched her brows together as she took a seat at the table.

  “Just kidding,” he said, chuckling. “But I did find some and opened the can. One of the worst things I’ve ever smelled … one of them.”

  “You’d have to be pretty desperate to eat that.”

  “Or have a death wish. Botulism has killed a few people on the Hive.”

  She cut into the shark, eyeing it suspiciously. “And you’re sure this is safe to eat?”

  “I tested it for heavy metals, radiation, and other toxins. Came back okay.”

  Miles was already done scarfing down his bowl of mushed-up shark meat by the time X picked up his steak with his hand. He didn’t bother using utensils.

  Magnolia watched him take the first bite.

  He swallowed a hunk. It was closer to bird than to pig and actually had a good, gamy flavor.

  “Damn, not bad at all,” he said.

  Magnolia tried a bite, lifting her eyes to the ceiling as if in thought. “Yeah, it’s okay.”

  “Nice shooting, by the way, Pepper,” X said.

  “Thank you, Commander.”

  The Sea Wolf swayed again, and X grabbed his plate before it could slide off the table. Miles licked his chops, already finished with his meal.

  “Don’t mention it, Pepper. Say, can you do something to keep this damn boat steady?”

  “I’m sorry, Commander, but there are some waves ahead. I would highly recommend getting back to the command center and strapping into your seats.”

  Magnolia let out a sigh.

  “Bet you really wish you had stayed on the airships now, huh, kid?”

  She stabbed another bite of shark off her plate and plucked it off the fork.

  “Nope. I’m right where I should be,” she said with a warm smile.

  TWELVE

  “Look, I don’t trust Pepper, either,” X said over the private comm channel. “Hell, I don’t trust any AI, but I do need his help, and he proved back on the island that he’s here to help us.”

  Katrina stroked her jaw and looked over at Michael. It was just the two of them in her office, and she wanted to keep it that way for now.

  “I shut him down on the Hive after receiving the intel Magnolia sent us, X. Have you seen the videos and listened to the audio clips?”

  “No. Been kinda busy staying alive out here. The boat’s in bad shape, and we’re approaching another storm, so why don’t you give me the short version.”

  Michael grinned. “That’s the old X I remember.”

  “I was starting to like the new one that didn’t talk as much,” she whispered back. “The one that wasn’t an asshole.”

  “I heard that,” X said. “And I can confirm, I am and will always be an asshole.”

  Katrina and Michael both chuckled.

  “Okay, back to the issue at hand,” she said.

  “If Pepper tries anything down here, I’ll light up his holographic ass, but what you do on the Hive and Deliverance is your business. As you pointed out, you’re the captain.”

  “I’ve put Samson in charge of the Hive for now, but I need to do more research on what happened in those final days leading up to the end of the world and in the Blackout before I authorize turning Timothy back on.”

  “I agree,” Michael said. “There are too many things that don’t add up. Like why Timothy, from the Hilltop Bastion, would not know what happened with ITC and the computer virus that apparently caused this war.”

  “Maybe because of the Blackout,” X replied. “You guys have to remember, this shit happened two hundred and sixty years ago. The world ended. By whose hand, or how, shouldn’t matter at this point.”

  “It does matter,” Katrina said.

  “Why’s that? I’ve been out there. I’ve seen more than anyone what’s left. I’ve seen the mass graves, the skeletons, the horror of what life has become …” His words trailed off.

  Katrina had a feeling he was remembering something awful.

  “In Florida, I found a mass grave of robots,” he said.

  “You never told me that,” Michael said.

  “Because it doesn’t matter!”

  Katrina sighed.

  “Maybe X is right,” Michael said. “Pepper may have hidden something from us, but that doesn’t make him a threat.”

  “I won’t take that chance on the airships,” she said, standing. “X, I’ll let you talk to Michael since you both seem t
o agree. Good luck out there. I’ll talk to you soon.”

  Michael dipped his head.

  “Yeah, thanks,” X said. “Good luck with your dive, Kat.”

  She stepped into the passage outside her small office and closed the hatch almost all the way, torn about whether to give them privacy. She opted for eavesdropping. After all, it was a captain’s prerogative.

  “Tin, I just wanted …” X began to say. “I’m sorry. I mean Michael.”

  He stuttered out several sentences, clearly not sure what to say. X had never been good with words, especially back when she fell in love with him, but this was even worse. He had a hard time connecting with people—even with those he loved in return.

  “Michael, I don’t like this. I told you I didn’t want you guys coming after us, and there is absolutely no reason to go to Cuba right now.”

  “I know what you said, X, but I trust Katrina. I always have. She suffered under Jordan for many years, and now she’s been given a second chance. I don’t think she would jeopardize our lives or the mission of saving humanity if it weren’t worth it.”

  Katrina suddenly felt guilty for listening in. She decided to give them the privacy they deserved, and began to walk away. Then she heard something that made her pause.

  “She doesn’t know what’s down there,” X said. “No one does. No one besides me and Magnolia has been out this way and lived to tell about it.”

  “Red Sphere is nothing but a tomb—”

  X cut Michael off. “I’m not worried about Red Sphere or what’s inside. I’m worried about what’s outside. The islands are a dangerous place. Giant octopuses, armored hogs, and man-size birds aren’t the only threats. This is Cazador territory, Michael. If there’s anything to learn about the end of the world, it’s that humans are the real monsters. Most days, I think it would have been better if whatever killed most of humankind had gone ahead and finished the job.”

  * * * * *

  Les stood in the launch bay of Deliverance with Erin, Layla, and Michael. All were suited up and ready to dive. This was the same place where they had launched the Sea Wolf into the ocean less than a week ago.

  The new recruits were all standing outside the main entrance, a large steel hatch with two portholes. Trey had pushed up to the front of the group and homed in directly on Les.

  “Oh, shit,” Les muttered. “I’ll be right back.”

  Michael nodded, and Les ran over to the hatch. He opened it and pulled out the Giraffe Phyl had given him back on the Hive.

  “Hold on to this for me,” Les said.

  Trey shook his shaved head. “Phyl gave that to you. It’ll bring you luck. You keep it.” He cupped his hand over Les’ and pushed it back.

  “Seriously, Dad, you hold on to it,” Trey said.

  “Okay.” Les stuck it back into his cargo pocket and secured the Velcro. “I love you. See you soon.”

  “Love you, Dad. Be safe.”

  “Good luck, man,” Vish said, raising a hand. The other recruits all looked at Les with sad gazes, as though they thought he wasn’t coming back.

  He raised a hand toward his son a final time, then hurried back through the launch bay. Another wide door separated the four divers from the storm swirling outside.

  There would be no launching from weapon tubes like those on the Hive. Today, they were jumping right out of the belly of Deliverance.

  Michael, wearing his black suit, armor, and glowing red battery unit, stepped in front and turned to face his team. The Raptor logo, recently touched up with new paint, covered the top of his helmet.

  A guttural groan creaked through the ship as Deliverance lowered through the skies. After twelve hours of resting, playing cards, and helping tend the farm, the divers were finally in position over their target.

  “Twenty-five thousand feet and dropping,” Katrina said over the comm. “Ensign Connor has confirmed a forty-five-mile storm front in the east. We have to dive before it catches up with us.”

  Not great news, but apparently, Katrina was continuing the mission despite the storm barreling in on their location. Les watched the seconds tick down on his mission clock. His senses were on full alert, every muscle in his body preparing for the extreme forces that were about to pummel him.

  He could hear his heart hammering in his ears and felt the pulse in his carotid arteries. A breath of filtered air filled his lungs and seemed to mix with the flow of adrenaline already coursing through him.

  Ten minutes to drop.

  This was only his sixth dive, and one of them wasn’t even technically a dive, since he had done it in a metal pod. He tried to push statistics out of his mind. He wasn’t even close to fifteen—the average number of dives that marked a diver’s life span. Those were the old days of diving, back when they had to take more risks.

  Today was risky enough, though. There was a storm over the DZ.

  Les brought up his wrist monitor, checked that it was working, and moved on to his HUD. Three other dots blinked on the minimap.

  The other divers were all performing their last-minute checks beside him. Layla flexed her hands, making fists and then shaking them out.

  “You ready?” Michael asked her.

  She nodded, and their helmets came together with a soft clack.

  Les turned again to look at the portholes behind him, where Trey stood watching intently.

  “That was me fifteen years ago,” Michael said, slapping Les on the back. “I watched my dad leave many, many times.”

  “As long as we’re in the air, more children will watch their fathers and mothers jump into hell,” Les said.

  Michael dipped his helmet and moved over to Erin. She had a shotgun slung over her shoulder, and an Uzi holstered where her blaster would otherwise be.

  A nod confirmed she was ready to go.

  Les checked the strap over his blaster, then the sling of the rifle over his back. Magazines protruded from his vest, and two nickel-plated M1911-style pistols were holstered on his long legs.

  Michael did a final scan of his team. “Radio check.”

  “Raptor Two, online,” Layla confirmed.

  “Raptor Three, good to go,” Erin said.

  “Raptor Four, ready,” said Les.

  Michael raised his wrist monitor and touched the screen. “Systems check.”

  Les confirmed that his battery was at 98 percent. His suit integrity was 100 percent. He bumped his chin pad to turn on his NVGs, then bumped them off.

  “Lights check,” Michael said.

  Reaching up, Les turned on his helmet-mounted beams.

  “Raptor is good to go,” Michael said. He opened a line to Command. “All set to dive, Captain.”

  “Roger that. We’re still moving into position,” she replied. “Starting mission clock in five.”

  A moment later, the mission clock updated on their HUDs.

  Two minutes to drop.

  Deliverance dipped at a thirty-degree angle, just enough that Les had to plant his boots to keep from sliding. Lightning slashed the black outside the porthole windows, and a boom of thunder rattled a bar in the corner of the room.

  “You thinking a suicide dive right out the gate?” Layla asked.

  The Raptor symbol on Michael’s helmet dipped in confirmation. “The faster the better,” he said, “but don’t forget, this DZ’s a lot smaller than anything we’ve tried before. You overshoot it and you’ll be swimming to Red Sphere—attached to a giant octopus trying to wrap you up and pull you into the depths.”

  Three blinks on the HUD display confirmed that the team understood.

  “Okay, Team Raptor, let’s get this done,” Michael said, walking toward the doors. A red light swirled around the long space, spreading a glow across the suited and armored divers. The hydraulics that operated the bay door clicked and parted in the middle, letti
ng a horizontal line of blue from a lightning flash into the room. It vanished a beat later, leaving the divers in the red glow of the warning light.

  “Almost there,” Katrina said, her calm voice betraying no emotion. “Currently at twenty-two thousand feet.”

  Les cinched down the magazines on his vest with another strap as the ship lowered.

  The red transitioned into a cool blue, and Les took in a long breath. The bay doors were completely open now. Another bolt of lightning lit the clouds outside.

  “Thirty seconds,” Katrina said, starting the countdown.

  This was it. They were about to jump back into the abyss. Les looked over his shoulder one last time at the ten-second mark. The other divers were already moving toward the open door, their boots clicking on the aluminum deck.

  Three … two … one …

  “We dive so humanity survives!” Michael yelled. He was first off the platform, launching his body into the air and then angling down like a swimmer diving into water. Layla and Erin jumped just after him.

  Les hesitated when his boots hit the liftgate. He turned and raised a hand to Trey as a terrifying possibility entered his mind.

  What if this is the last time you see your boy?

  Les blinked and then leaped into the darkness. For the first few seconds of free fall, he felt weightless, his body shattering the invisible clouds. But a beat later, the rush of wind took him.

  He brought his hands close to his body, forming a human arrow, trying to outfall his worries and focus on getting through this alive.

  The storm appeared worse to the east, but the DZ didn’t look too scary—just a few random forks of lightning. It was the pockets of turbulence that had him worried. A single blast could send him way off course—maybe into the sea.

  He kept his eye on the glow from two blue battery packs and one red. The other divers were already a good five hundred feet below him. Had he really hesitated that long before jumping?

  It wouldn’t matter as long as he stayed on course.

  “Raptor One …” Michael’s voice came through a flurry of static noise. “Looks like we might have a surprise between ten and fifteen thousand feet. I’m getting a lot of disturbance. Gonna spear right—”