Hell Divers IV: Wolves

by Nicholas Sansbury Smith

  He looked down at the stump where his arm had been. He could see that well enough.

  The skin was glowing red, still hot from the laser bolt. The heat had cauterized the wound, but he had lost all the blood in the arm that now lay on the landing.

  “My arm,” he mumbled. “We can’t leave my arm.”

  “Move!” Layla yelled as she helped him up the stairwell.

  More gunfire cracked behind them, and Michael heard Erin’s voice over the channel.

  “We got company topside.”

  * * * * *

  Katrina chewed on her fingernail as she listened to the audio transmissions. Gunfire, screeches, and the intermittent yelling of her friends on the surface filled the bridge.

  Her crew all listened from their stations, some flinching at the sound of the shouts.

  “We have to do something,” she said. The divers had been fighting for over an hour at Red Sphere and were now pinned down.

  “Raptor One, do you copy?” Katrina said into her headset.

  A wave of static replied, then a scream.

  “They’re flanking us!”

  Katrina couldn’t be sure who had yelled that.

  “Raptor Two, do you copy?” she said.

  A flurry of white noise filled the channel.

  “Raptor Three, do you copy? Does anyone copy?”

  The comm link went dead a beat later, and her gut sank as white noise filled the room.

  Her Hell Divers were dying down there. She had to do something.

  Bronson got up from his station, his hand on his lower back. He just looked at Katrina without speaking.

  Ada and Dave didn’t say a word, either.

  “Bronson, are you sure we can’t land on Red Sphere?” Katrina asked.

  He shook his head. “I hate saying it, Captain, but we would likely go down in a ball of fire if we tried to get through that rogue pocket of electricity. It may be possible for a smaller object to make it through, but we’re way too big to avoid getting hit by lightning.”

  “But our exterior is built to withstand some direct hits,” Dave said.

  “Some, yes,” Bronson said.

  Katrina closed her eyes. A smaller object …

  There was only one thing left to do.

  “You have the bridge, Ensign White.”

  Bronson stiffened, his stooped back almost straight.

  She started crossing the room, the eyes of her staff on her.

  “Where are you going, ma’am?” Ada asked, standing at her station.

  At the hatch, Katrina stopped and turned.

  “I’m going to dive, and save our friends. Move the ship back into position over Red Sphere.”

  “By yourself?” Dave said. “Ma’am, I …”

  “Don’t think that’s a good idea, Captain,” Bronson said, finishing Dave’s sentence.

  “We have no choice,” Katrina replied. “Tell the green divers to meet me in the launch bay. They have fifteen minutes. In the meantime, lower us to five thousand feet, just shy of that rogue pocket.”

  Ada and Dave exchanged a glance, but Bronson simply nodded. The old man still knew how to follow an order.

  She ran down the passage, where she passed several militia soldiers and then a half-dozen engineers and farmers. A warning sounded, and an automated female voice flooded the hallways.

  “Be advised, we are moving from our current location and could experience turbulence. Please take appropriate precautions.”

  Katrina walked faster, her mind racing as she worked her way toward the launch bay. What she had made out of the divers’ transmissions made her blood run cold.

  The enemy on the surface wasn’t Sirens. The defectors were something even worse.

  At least, Sirens could be killed.

  These were killing machines powered by a powerful AI …

  Would Timothy feel any loyalty to them? Could she trust him? Could X trust him?

  She had considered ordering Samson to reactivate the AI on the Hive, but this info made her wonder.

  Katrina shook away the questions and focused on the new mission. There was only one way to help the other divers: by diving.

  When she got to the launch bay, the green divers had all mustered.

  Trey was first to speak. “Captain, what’s going on? Is my dad okay?”

  “We have a problem on the surface,” she replied, halting right in front of the group. “I don’t have much time to explain, so listen up. There are machines down there. The same machines that I believe killed Dr. Diaz and his team. I’m not sure where they came from, but I know they will kill the divers if we don’t do something to help them.”

  “Robots?” Vish asked, rubbing the gold hoop in his ear as if it might bring him luck.

  Jaideep tilted his head. “Like AIs?”

  “Killer AIs,” Katrina said. “Programmed to destroy humanity.”

  “We have to get down there,” Trey said, his eyes burning with worry.

  Jed agreed. “Commander Everhart and the others need our help.”

  Katrina gave a look that silenced everyone. “We can’t bring the ship all the way down to the surface; it’s too big a risk. But I can get us close. I just can’t do this on my own. I need volunteers to go with me.”

  It didn’t surprise her when Trey’s hand shot up.

  No other hands joined his.

  “Is there no one else?” Katrina asked.

  “I’ll go,” came a voice from the back of the group.

  It was Edgar Cervantes. His cousin, Ramon, stepped up beside him.

  “Me too,” Ramon said.

  “I’m in,” said Jaideep.

  Vish looked at his brother. “What? Man, no! We aren’t ready …”

  “You’ll never be fully ready,” Katrina said. “We’re jumping from five thousand feet, which means you will only have to be in the air a few seconds before pulling your chute.

  “That’s it?” Jaideep said. “Sounds easy enough to me.”

  “Sounds like a death wish!” Vish exclaimed. “Come on, bro, you can’t seriously be thinking about this. Did you not hear what’s down there?”

  “We all die sometime,” Edgar said.

  “If you’re coming with me, suit up and be ready in twenty minutes,” Katrina said. “We’re diving as soon as the ship’s in position.”

  She made her way over to the crates and lockers on the opposite bulkhead. Her gear was in the center crate, and she stopped to pull it out. It had been a while since she donned the armor and parachute.

  Suiting up, she cinched the straps two notches tighter. Over the past few months, she had dropped over twenty pounds. The thought reminded her of the child she had lost, and her heart ached from the pain.

  Sometimes, pain was the motivation she needed, especially for what came next. She looked at the launch doors as she secured her armor.

  Vish was right.

  Jumping into the rogue storm and battling robots designed specifically to kill humans sounded like a death wish.

  But she had a duty to her friends.

  She had gotten them into this mess, but was risking more lives the right move? The answer, she realized, was yes.

  What she wouldn’t do was send these green divers without a leader. Today, she was that leader. If she died, Bronson and her crew had their orders to get Deliverance back to the Hive.

  She put her helmet on, clicked it into place, and moved over to the weapons lockers.

  Behind her, Jaideep, Trey, Edgar, and Ramon were getting suited up. Vish watched nervously, arms folded across his chest.

  “Everyone grab an automatic rifle,” she said. “We’re going to need the firepower.”

  An alarm blared through the launch bay.

  “Beginning our descent,” Bronson ann
ounced over the comm line. “Everyone, go to your designated shelter.”

  The airship trembled, and Katrina steadied herself against the locker in front of her.

  “You heard the man,” she said, directing her gaze at the divers who had not suited up. “If you’re not jumping, get to your shelter.”

  Vish sucked in a breath but didn’t move.

  “It’s okay, bro,” Jaideep said. “I’m going to be fine. And if not, I’ll see you on the other side.”

  He reached out and gave Vish a fierce hug.

  Katrina watched as she pushed shotgun shells into the bandolier around her thigh. In a few minutes, Hell Divers were probably going to die. She just prayed they would save more lives than they lost, and recover the navy vessel she had risked so much for.

  It was the only way to take the Metal Islands.

  SIXTEEN

  The door wasn’t going to hold, even with Les’ body braced against it. The machine on the other side rammed it again, and he staggered backward into a lab table. A twinge of pain ran through his back where the armor had smacked against the rounded edge.

  He fired his rifle at the robot trying to break its way through the barricaded glass windows.

  The door exploded off the hinges, sailing past him and crashing into another lab workstation. He pivoted to fire on the AI that stormed into the room, orange visor and mouth glowing like a portal to hell.

  Rounds peppered the metal face; denting and contorting the humanoid features. Les emptied the magazine, hoping one of the bullets would penetrate the metal shell, but the thing kept coming. An electronic chirp came from the open mouth as if it were trying to speak.

  But these AIs didn’t have voices like Timothy Pepper. At least, Les hadn’t heard them try to communicate using anything other than their electronic wails.

  He slung his rifle and unholstered the venerable .45-caliber M1911 pistol. An orange light blazed out of the machine’s visor, tracking him as he moved. There was no way to get out of the lab without getting hit by a laser bolt.

  Crouching down, he raised his pistol and fired a round into the machine’s open mouth. It shook violently, still standing but dropping the weapon. Sparks exploded out of its orange visor and mouth, and it fell to both knees, where it wobbled a moment before slumping over on its side. The orange battery unit dimmed and blinked off.

  So they can die …

  “I killed one!” Les yelled over the comms. “I fucking killed one!”

  The sound of mechanical joints filled the hallway outside the broken door, cutting his celebration short. Les holstered the pistol and picked up the laser rifle by a curved olive rail with iron sights mounted to the center of the black barrel. It was light, about the same weight as a blaster, and not much bigger.

  He held it like a rifle and quickly checked for a magazine but saw nothing extending from the bottom or side of the weapon. He wasn’t sure how many bolts remained, but even one was a gift he wouldn’t pass up.

  The route back through the labs took him a few minutes to navigate. Even with the sporadic working lights, the rooms looked different from when he came through hours ago.

  He wasn’t sure where Layla and Michael were, but with Michael’s injuries, they couldn’t have gotten far. It was amazing the young commander could walk at all after hitting the water so hard and then losing his arm.

  Les checked over his shoulder one last time before entering the next lab. The other robots were coming through the open doorway, and the orange glow pulsed into the open space. Shadows rushed in with the light. Several of the machines were on all fours, moving like dogs.

  The sight made him gasp, but he managed to aim the laser rifle at the closest robot and pull the trigger. The bolt sizzled through the air and hit it in the back. Animal bones exploded, and sparks flew.

  Another orange light fizzled out.

  He fired again, holding the trigger down this time to fire a laser that cut off the leg of another robot and sliced the lab station behind it in half.

  The next trigger squeeze clicked, and he felt the heat coming off the muzzle of the barrel through his gloved hands. It was either overheated or out of bolts. He turned and ran as the other three machines approached. One hurdled a lab counter and slammed into a desk, sending the furniture crashing into a wall. The electronic howling grew louder. The machines were getting frustrated.

  A flurry of lasers sizzled through the air, leaving white-hot incisions wherever they touched. One came dangerously close to his helmet, shooting past his right side.

  The noise of their ethereal wails hurt his ears, but there was no blocking it out. He ran into the next hallway, hopping over the mummified corpses that littered the floor. Then he flattened his body and squeezed through the metal barricade.

  “I’ve got multiple contacts heading toward the front entrance,” Erin said over the comms. “Better sit tight, Layla, and let me take them down.”

  The message echoed in Les’ helmet. They were being flanked. But where had the other robots come from?

  “Hold your fire—you’ll just draw them to your position,” Layla said. “I’ll hunker down with Michael. Les, where are you?”

  “On my way topside. I got several pursuers.”

  “That’s my goal,” Erin said. “I’ll buy you some time.”

  Les almost halted when he heard her voice.

  She was going to sacrifice herself.

  “No,” Michael said. “Hold your fire, Erin. That’s an … order.”

  “Sorry, sir, but some orders are meant to be broken. Good luck to you. If there is an afterlife, I’ll save you a spot.”

  The line fizzled out.

  Les bolted down the hallway, gripping the laser rifle, ready to enter the fray topside. It was up to him now to save his friends, but he would have to be smart and lucky.

  Distant gunshots rang out as he made his way down the second hallway to the garage. Electronic wails answered, along with the crack, crack of return laser fire.

  Erin had shut her channel off, leaving Les, Layla, and Michael no way to contact her. She couldn’t even hear them if they tried to send a message.

  He made it to the garage a few minutes later and entered with the weapon aimed outside. The barrel had cooled, and he could only hope it would fire when he needed it.

  Gunfire cracked from the piers, and he hurried to the open door to see a half dozen of the machines walking toward the ITC ship, their orange battery units glowing in the dark like handheld lanterns.

  They didn’t seem to be in any hurry. Several of them, armed with laser rifles, fired at the stern, where Erin stood firing down on them. She ducked as a bolt sliced the air where her helmet had been the second before. Les almost screamed at her to run, but he couldn’t compromise his position if his plan was to work. Especially since the machines all had their backs to him.

  He was moving out of the garage when a door on one of the armored vehicles creaked open. Layla hopped out and motioned at Les. Lying across the back seat was Michael, his stump wrapped with a bandage.

  “Help me with him,” she whispered.

  Gunfire continued in the distance as Les lowered his gun and grabbed Michael. He was unconscious, and Layla needed help getting him to the navy ship. It was their only way off this concrete island.

  Hold on, Erin. We’re coming.

  If anyone could handle herself in a fight, it was tough-as-nails Erin.

  The sound of moving metal came from the hallway. Les let go of Michael and aimed his laser rifle out of the open door; peering down the iron sights, and waiting for a shot.

  A moment later, one of the robots emerged in the flickering light.

  Les fired a bolt into the center of the AI’s forehead. The thin blue line bored an instant tunnel all the way through the artificial brain or circuits or whatever the hell was inside the head and right out th
e back of the metal skull, to the open elevator shaft fifty yards beyond.

  That was when Les saw the orange light rising up the shaft.

  “We have to get out of here,” he said, listening to the approach of what sounded like dozens of the machines.

  The place was a freaking factory of killer AIs.

  Michael suddenly shot up on the seat inside the vehicle, gasping for air. Les turned just as Layla pulled a needle out of his leg.

  “Adrenaline,” she said. “Come on, Tin. We’ve got to get to that ship.”

  He looked at Layla and Les in turn, then at his arm for a second, as if to make sure it wasn’t just all a bad dream.

  “You’re okay,” Les said. “Let’s go, Commander.”

  Michael didn’t need to be told twice. He jumped out onto the concrete as Les ran back to the door.

  “Where are you going?” Layla shouted.

  He fired a bolt at the open elevator shaft, showering sparks down on the machines climbing the vertical walls.

  Then he grabbed the gun the terminated machine had dropped, and fired off two more blasts at three approaching robots on his right. They returned fire, blowing smoldering holes into the floor.

  He slammed the door and locked it before taking off after Layla and Michael. Lightning flashed overhead, and the boom of thunder shook the piers.

  “Layla!” Les shouted when he got outside.

  She was just around the corner of the garage.

  “I’ll meet you at the ship,” he said, tossing the second laser weapon to her. “See if you can get it up and running with your computer and extra battery.”

  Layla nodded. “Good luck.”

  “Good luck.”

  She kept moving around the curved structure. Michael managed to say between groans of pain, “Help … Erin.” For a moment, he seemed to be trying to pull away from Layla and go with Les, but she put his remaining arm over her shoulder.

  The hallway door inside the garage creaked, and electronic wails projected out of the room. Three of the machines on the pier stopped and turned in Les’ direction while the other three kept shooting at Erin.

  The robots looking at Les were wearing bone armor, too, and one even had a human jaw attached to its face. The jaw moved, and the same electronic noise burst from the mechanical mouth. It was as if …