Allegiance

by Nicholas Sansbury Smith

  “Resting, sir.”

  “Good. She needs it.”

  “Why do you have your jumpsuit and armor?” Eevi asked, eyeing the gear in his arms. “Is something wrong?”

  “No, just being prepared,” Les said. He put the gear down and moved over to his chair. “What’s our status, Timothy?”

  The AI appeared at the helm, looking out the portholes at the storm that blotted out the horizon.

  “We’re currently hovering at twenty-one thousand feet, three miles from the coastline,” Timothy said. “Skies are clear in our current location, but the storm over the target is intensifying, and expanding in all directions.”

  “Keep an eye on it,” said Les. “And program a course for Cricket that takes it under the storm.”

  “Already done, sir. Uploading to the drone … now.”

  Les buzzed the launch bay. “Is Cricket ready to deploy?”

  “Yes, sir,” Alfred replied.

  “Good. Launch on my mark.”

  Les turned on the robot’s weapons system by typing in his pass code. He brought up the drone’s cameras on the main monitor. Next, he accessed the data feed in a subscreen that would show them a minimap and location of the divers once Cricket got in range.

  “Mark,” Les said.

  The bridge doors whisked open, and Layla entered.

  “Just in time,” Les said. “I just launched Cricket.”

  “Have you heard anything from Tin or Mags yet?” she asked.

  “Not yet, but we’re hoping Cricket can give us an idea of where they are within the next few minutes.”

  Layla brushed her braid over her shoulder and sat at her station. She smiled at Eevi, but Les could feel the tension in both of them as they waited for news of their men.

  Les had tried not to think of Trey, but old memories surfaced unbidden as he waited. For some reason, he had a bad feeling about things on the ground, as if something terrible had happened during the night. He buried the thought and tapped his monitor to pull up the data on-screen.

  Cricket lowered through the sky and then switched to thrusters, moving fast in the turbulent air beneath the storm clouds.

  “Almost in position for a first scan,” Timothy announced.

  Les was starting to doubt that any defectors were out there. Avenging his son might have to wait. Right now, the most important thing was finding the survivors of the bunker and bringing his divers home safely.

  The first stream of data from Cricket’s scan rolled across the screen. Magnolia’s and Rodger’s beacons were moving at a good clip. They both were still alive and nearing the target.

  Next came the data for Team Raptor.

  But that couldn’t be right. Les saw only two beacons.

  A moan of dread resounded through the bridge.

  “No … no … This can’t be right,” Layla said. She looked over at Les, then to Timothy.

  Eevi’s eyes were glazed with tears. “This can’t be real,” she said. “Can’t be real.”

  “Tell me that’s wrong,” Les said to Timothy, hoping the ensign was right.

  The AI hesitated a moment before replying, perhaps to double-check or perhaps because he, too, was staggered by the data.

  “I’m sorry, Captain, but the scan appears to be correct,” he said. “Edgar’s, Arlo’s, and Alexander’s beacons are offline.”

  Eevi stared ahead in shock.

  “I’m afraid those divers have been killed,” Timothy said.

  TWENTY-FIVE

  In the early dawn, Rhino trained his binoculars on Mercury. The warship’s guns weren’t pointed at the airship or the oil rig, and the soldiers on deck went casually about their tasks. If they knew the truth about what had happened to the crew of the Lion, they weren’t showing it.

  That was good, but Rhino had a feeling Carmela was plotting something. She was supposed to be preparing for the mission to the backup fuel outpost in Belize, but the trip was on hold until the team of raiders returned with engine parts for the warship Renegade.

  Now she seemed very interested in the two survivors from the Lion. She stood outside Mercury’s command island, watching the capitol tower.

  Rhino scanned the horizon for Elysium, but the largest warship in the remaining fleet was still out of view—another good sign. It meant that Colonel Vargas and Colonel Forge were waiting before taking any drastic measures.

  But Rhino knew that the two societies were spiraling toward another clash and possibly even another war, and he was running out of time to stop it. Eventually, the sky people would need to hand over the Cazador survivors from the Lion, and unless X killed them and said they had died of dehydration and exposure, there would be hell to pay if the two sailors told the truth about what had happened out there.

  Rhino couldn’t take that chance.

  He handed the binos back to a militia soldier and picked up his spear. Worried sick about Sofia, and worried sick about the Vanguard Islands, Rhino was about at his breaking point.

  Across the rooftop, a platoon of militia soldiers patrolled in the rising sunlight. On the way to the stairwell, he passed another patrol. With so much security outside, it would be easier to get to the brig.

  Rhino took the stairs down several floors to the cells. As he had suspected, no one was guarding the entrance. Part of him wished there were a guard, someone to stop him from doing what he had to do—from doing what X should already have done. Ada had to pay for her crime, and it fell to him to exact payment.

  His heart pounded with adrenaline but also with fear as he waited outside, considering his decision one last time. He never felt like this before battle, not even when facing monsters. But this wasn’t a battle. This was murder.

  “No,” he said aloud. “This is justice.”

  Rhino opened the barred gate to the cell-lined corridor and walked inside. Ada was the only prisoner being held here. No one but her to see what he was about to do.

  He leaned his spear against the wall and pulled his knife from the sheath on his belt. The long sawtooth blade had killed dozens of men, but he had never used it to execute someone in cold blood, let alone a young, defenseless woman.

  He looked for the key ring near the door but didn’t see it on the hook. Then he checked the dark passage between cells and saw the key ring, hanging from one of the cell doors.

  “Ah, shit!” he said, hurrying over to the unlocked door.

  “I knew you’d come,” said a familiar voice from inside the cell.

  X lay on the bed, hands behind his head, staring at the ceiling. Miles lay on the floor, head between his paws.

  “King Xavier,” Rhino stuttered.

  X sat up. Then he stood up and let out a sigh.

  “Where is Ada?” Rhino asked.

  “Gone,” X said.

  Rhino opened the rusting door and stood in the entry. “Gone where?”

  “I gave her a rifle, gear, provisions, a map, and a boat with oars and some fuel,” X replied. He walked over to stand in front of Rhino. “I decided exile is the best punishment, but you have to understand, I couldn’t kill her in cold blood.”

  Rhino stepped closer to the king.

  “That’s not my way,” X said. “That’s not our way.”

  They came face-to-face. This wasn’t their first time. The last time was on the boat, just before the battle for the Metal Islands, before they were bonded by bloodshed. He had wondered whether X was going to kill him then, and he wondered the same thing now.

  “She escaped justice,” Rhino said.

  “Justice,” X said with a snort. “There is no justice here. There will never be justice when you have the Sky Arena, and people owning other people.”

  Rhino didn’t step back.

  “She’ll probably die out there,” X said, “but I gave her the same chance you give your people in t
he Sky Arena, without risking more bloodshed.”

  He shook his head wearily and looked back to the barred window. “Ada killed the soldiers who killed Katrina,” X said. “It was cowardly, and it was wrong, but it’s done.”

  “You shouldn’t have let her go.”

  “I could have let her rot here, but I knew you would come for her, and if you had killed her, then whatever bond we have would be broken. So I removed the opportunity, and we’ll leave it at that.”

  Rhino clenched his jaw, suppressing the flash of rage that made him want to knock the king’s lights out. He had sworn loyalty to X, but the guy was driving him crazy with some of his decisions.

  “Consider her dead,” X said. “Chances are, she won’t last long out there.”

  Rhino’s eyes narrowed. He still believed in the old warrior’s vision for rebuilding the islands and expanding the economy to provide food and shelter for everyone. But Rhino wasn’t sure the two societies could live in peace, even with the common threat of the defectors and, now, the skinwalkers.

  “You planning on using that knife still?” X asked, looking down at the blade.

  “Not on you,” Rhino said. “Guess I’ll save it for Vargas.”

  The moment of tension passed. Rhino wondered whether X was going to punish him. Did X even still trust him?

  But the king just shrugged and said, “Better get a move on it. We’ve got some planning to do, I’ve got Hell Divers to train, and I have a ton of other shit to shovel before I head to the trading post with you and your four badass Barracudas.”

  Rhino stepped to the side, letting X and Miles pass. When they were gone, he looked at the empty cell and bed. He knew he had to let the past go, but he had a feeling it was still going to haunt him, one way or another.

  * * * * *

  Magnolia ran, dripping tears and sweat. Arlo, Alexander, and Edgar—all dead. And so were most of the Cazadores.

  Another soldier had vanished an hour ago. Now it was just her, Rodger, General Santiago, Lieutenant Alejo, and the injured grunt soldier, Ruiz.

  Something was hunting them, taking them quietly, one at a time. A Siren, perhaps, maybe something else. Rio de Janeiro was a haven for Sirens, bone beasts, and a zoo of other mutant creatures, along with some truly bizarre plant life. One thing was clear: this was their turf, and the divers were unwelcome guests. Or welcome, perhaps, as meat on the hoof.

  Coming down here in two teams had been a mistake. They should have stuck together all along. Then they might have had a chance to reach the target.

  They were only two blocks from the location. Michael and Sofia weren’t far, but their beacons were moving at a crawl.

  Magnolia’s group was no longer moving in combat intervals, but in single file, keeping close so the monsters couldn’t snatch anyone else away into the darkness.

  The electronic wail of a Siren echoed in the distance. The beasts were active again. She still thought those were the predators picking off her team one at a time. Maybe there was an alpha unlike any they had come across in the wastes.

  The defectors wouldn’t take them out individually. Neither would the bone beasts. One of those things could kill their entire group if it managed to trap them in a room. But the Sirens were stealth hunters.

  Magnolia slipped around a fallen door lintel into a space overgrown with vegetation. The purple-and-red vines had run riot inside the office building, pushing over desks and breaking through walls. The team kept clear of the spiny bulbs that grew like bark on the scaly skin. She didn’t want to find out what would happen if they got too close.

  Broken glass doors led to a business that had served coffee. She looked at the faded green mermaid logo on the ground. Paper cups and plastic spoons were strewn about as if a hurricane had blown through. Two tables remained standing. Everything else was upended or smashed.

  Alejo waded through the debris to the missing front door, to check the street. Glowing vines pulsated on the road, rhythmically lighting up and dimming the twilit room.

  “I think the divers are somewhere out there,” Magnolia whispered, pointing.

  “And the target is around the next block,” Rodger said. “We should link up with Michael and Sofia first, then—”

  Alejo cut him off. “We link up with your divers; then we get the hell out of here,” he said. “Pray our boat is still waiting with my men.”

  “My boat,” Magnolia said.

  Alejo’s helmet rotated toward her. “Maybe you haven’t noticed, sweetheart, but the mission has failed. We’re getting picked off like flies.”

  “And what’s the general have to say?” Magnolia asked.

  Alejo spoke to Santiago in a hushed voice. The old warrior cradled his double-barreled shotgun and said, “Sigamos. Cumplamos la misión.”

  Alejo gave an exasperated snort. “He says we complete the mission.”

  “Good,” Magnolia said. “We’re almost there.”

  “I’ll take point,” Rodger said.

  “Not a chance.” She got up and moved toward the exit before he could get out in front.

  Rain drizzled onto the slick sidewalk just outside the door, and lighting flashed over the skyline. The thunderclap came a moment later, followed by the high screech of a Siren.

  She hesitated in the open doorway, looking, but saw nothing. There was no sign of monsters, and no sign of Michael or Sofia.

  How was that possible? According to her HUD, the other divers should be right across the street. The building there had collapsed, but the data put the two remaining divers on Team Raptor somewhere in the area.

  She brought up her scope just to make sure, zooming in on the pile of debris. As she scanned, brown flesh darted past the crosshairs. She tried to follow, but it was too fast.

  “What?” Alejo said quietly.

  “Siren, maybe, but the flesh looked darker.”

  “Maybe we should find another route,” Rodger said.

  “No, Michael and Sofia should be right out there,” Magnolia said. “We just have to find them.”

  She waited another moment before signaling the team to follow her out on the sidewalk. The new vantage provided a view of the demolished structures on both sides of the road, but no Michael or Sofia.

  Baffled, she looked at the tangle of vines stretching across the asphalt. Could they be crawling through the thick flora?

  She followed the beacons on her HUD over to the closest vine, wrapped around a slab of concrete. Stepping onto the slab, she looked over the edge. The lip of a sinkhole was a few feet away.

  Michael and Sofia weren’t inside the vine or in the buildings, she realized.

  They were under the road.

  She stood looking down at the trunk of vines that wound deep into the cavernous hole. The roots flashed, spreading a dull glow over the muddy slope and the multiple footprints going down it.

  But why in the wastes had the divers gone down there?

  Unless some beast took them …

  She signaled the team to join her. Rodger and Alejo were already moving low across the road. Santiago stepped away from the wall, but Ruiz suddenly squirmed on the sidewalk, his arms tight at his sides.

  Before anyone could help, Ruiz was yanked off the sidewalk and pulled up the side of the building.

  Magnolia brought up her rifle and aimed at the rooftop, where two naked men were pulling the Cazador up by the rope they had lassoed him with.

  “Ambush!” she yelled.

  Something whizzed past her before she could pull the trigger, and she jumped away. Another projectile thunked into the vine in front of her. An arrow. A third hit one of the bulbs, which blew out droplets of sap.

  Magnolia rolled away from the toxic spray and bolted for the safety of the building as the naked men on the roof fired more arrows. The four remaining members of the team all took cover against t
he wall. Rodger brought up his assault rifle, but Alejo pushed the barrel down.

  “Don’t fire,” he said. “It will draw the beasts. We have to run.”

  “Screw that, man,” Magnolia said. “We’re sitting ducks down here.”

  Something crunched down on the pavement outside of the coffee shop. Rodger let out a yelp and backed away from a splash of blood and gore.

  “Dear God,” Magnolia whispered.

  The hunk of meat on the concrete was Ruiz—or, more correctly, the upper half of Ruiz. The naked humans, or whatever they were, had cut him in two at the waist.

  “We have to get inside the sinkhole,” Magnolia said.

  Alejo nodded and relayed the plan to Santiago.

  “The laser rifle is quiet,” she said. “I’ll lay down covering fire.”

  “Get down!” Alejo said.

  Magnolia dropped, and Alejo threw his knife over her head. She heard a dull smack and turned to see a naked man crumple to the ground not twelve feet away, the knife buried in his chest.

  As if on cue, a dozen more men came rappelling down the sides of the buildings and running over the debris piles across the road.

  Arrows bracketed the wall around Magnolia’s team.

  In a few seconds, they were surrounded.

  Alejo, too, must have realized they couldn’t win this fight.

  “Don’t shoot,” he growled.

  She moved her rifle from target to target as they moved in with bows. She counted fourteen, all of them dark-skinned and naked.

  But as they got closer, she saw that their skin looked odd, dried out. Perhaps, these were the people from the bunker, who had somehow adapted to survive in the toxic conditions here.

  The leader of the group carried an axe in either hand. Both blades were caked with dried blood. He was almost as big as Rhino and had a horn sticking out of the center of his forehead.

  “What are they?” Rodger stuttered.

  The horned man walked over, and in a prolonged lightning flash, Magnolia saw that he wasn’t one of the people from the bunker after all. He was wearing the people from the bunker.

  Dried, shriveled flesh covered his armored body from head to toe.