“There’s a few assault rifles, but it looks like a couple of things are missing … Didn’t Command say they were sending us some food and water? Because I’m not seein’ any.”
The missing provisions troubled him, but at least they had heavy weapons. They were still in business.
“Do Sirens eat energy bars, X?” Magnolia asked.
“How would I know that?” he replied. “Hold your position, Magnolia. Katrina, Murph, Tony, get down here.”
“On our way,” Tony replied.
X sprinted across the street. Above the noise of the wind whipping his suit, he caught another sound, closer now: the piercing wail of a Siren. As usual, it seemed to come from no particular direction.
“You hear that?” Katrina said over the comm.
“Yeah. Now, hurry up. We need to gear up and get gone.” He swept his blaster over the surrounding terrain. “You see anything, kid?”
She brushed up next to him, her voice barely more than a whisper, “Wh-what are those?”
Magnolia pointed toward a snow flurry drifting across the far end of the street. Within the swirling flakes, wrinkled, leathery shapes swayed from side to side as they approached.
X holstered his blaster and pulled an assault rifle from the crate. Then he grabbed four loaded magazines, stuffing three into his vest pockets and slapping the fourth into the weapon.
“Pick a rifle and load up on ammo!” X shouted.
He aimed at the pack of Sirens, trying to count them in the gusting flurry. A half-dozen approached on all fours, moving slowly through the fierce wind.
“Magnolia!” X shouted. She wasn’t moving.
“I’m not good with guns!” she yelled back, panic rising in her voice.
Looking down the rifle sights, X followed the monsters as they clambered across the road and up the sides of the buildings. Some perched on ledges or sills, watching the divers. Others moved in the partial concealment of the swirling snow, waiting for an opportunity to strike. The creatures had always attacked right away in the past, but now they seemed more cautious, as if sizing up their quarry.
“Katrina, Murph, Tony!” X shouted. “Where the hell are you?”
“Here. We’re at your five o’clock,” Katrina said. He glanced over his shoulder and saw a flash of movement behind the approaching divers.
“More contacts!” X yelled. “Tony, Murph, Katrina, you got the three o’clock position. Magnolia and I got nine o’clock. Hold your fire until I give the order.”
As the Sirens continued to prowl, X said to Magnolia, “Kid, you need to listen close. I want you to hold the gun snug to your shoulder, but don’t grip it super tight. Aim it dead center at one of those things and squeeze the trigger for a short burst. But whatever you do, do not shoot one of us. You got it?”
“Okay,” she mumbled. The rifle shook in her hands, and X considered taking it away. Her file said she had failed combat training, but she had done okay on the last dive, and he needed every weapon in this fight.
X took aim. The Sirens were creeping in from all directions, like a vise slowly closing. A snow flurry clouded his vision for a moment. He blinked, refocused, and trained his rifle on a thick-bodied Siren leading a pack of four.
The beast let out a piercing shriek and charged.
“Fire at will!” X shouted. Deactivating his night vision, he used the light from the sky to guide his shots. The first went wide, kicking up a puff of snow. His second hit one of the creatures at the base of its thick neck. It reared its head back, and the painful croak from its wide mouth sounded like an emergency alarm coming through a broken speaker on the Hive.
The pack fanned out in all directions as the creature collapsed to its knees. A brilliant arc of lightning streaked overhead, and he could see open maws, spiky backs, and taloned hands and feet. Another flash lit the exterior of a building across the street. The structural steel was alive with Sirens.
Mindful of the limited ammunition and the sheer numbers of the enemy, X fired a controlled burst at the pack in front of him. He cut down a second beast with two shots to the chest. It slumped to the ground with one last agonizing shriek.
He took out the other three with single shots. The monsters flopped in the snow, unable to continue their advance. X got the next pack in his sights and knocked down two more.
Over the crack of gunfire, the unearthly wails formed a chorus, and over this came the heavy clap of thunder. A brilliant web of lightning streaked overhead, the tips branching out and licking the tips of skyscrapers. Sparks rained down on the streets as the Sirens continued their assault.
“On me!” X yelled. The other divers came together to form a perimeter, but the five of them wouldn’t be able to hold the monsters off for long. Worse, the gunfire seemed to attract even more of them.
He scanned the battlefield as he fired. A spray of blood erupted from a wrinkled neck. A bony head crest puffed into scarlet mist. Three more of the abominations crashed to the ground before his ammunition ran out.
In one continuous motion, X ejected the spent magazine, slapped in a new one, and knelt. He was firing as soon as his knee hit the snow. His next shot punched through a Siren’s chest, and it fell dead, tripping the one behind it. As the second beast bounded over the carcass, X shot it in the mouth. He twisted to the right and squeezed the trigger, counting the bullets and watching the bodies pile up. Steam rose from the spilled blood.
Over the cacophony of firing and shrieking, X heard someone yelling.
“Power down!”
X ignored the voice, acquired a new target, and fired again, cursing a blue streak all the while. The voice on the wind wasn’t familiar. Was he really hearing it?
The same voice shouted again, “Power your suits down and don’t move!”
A bleep on X’s minimap pulled his eyes away from the monsters. He turned to see an armored diver running toward them from the north.
Waving frantically, he was still screaming, “Power down!”
X watched the creatures closing in all around them. There was no possibility of holding them all back.
“Power down and don’t move!” the man yelled again. “Trust me!”
X pulled the empty magazine and reached for another as the new diver sprinted to them. He pulled the battery unit from his own armor, still yelling, “Power the fuck down!”
X saw no other option. They were dead anyway.
“Do it!” he shouted to his team.
Lowering his rifle, he yanked out his battery. His HUD went dark instantly. A moment later, a brilliant red light streaked across the street. One of the monsters, which had stopped behind the barrier of bodies, burst into flames and lay thrashing in the snow.
A second flare hissed in the opposite direction.
The screeches started to grow fainter. X couldn’t believe his ears. They were retreating.
The mysterious newcomer was busy reloading his blaster, and X couldn’t see his face behind his visor. With the Sirens on the move, the new diver spoke only one more word: “Run!”
* * * * *
Captain Ash wiped the film of sweat off her forehead. It was a reminder that the bridge, unlike the noncritical areas of the ship, still had heat. Some of the shelters were heated, but there weren’t enough for everyone on the ship, so most of the Hive’s passengers would be huddled together under blankets in their designated safe areas belowdecks. No safety belts to buckle into, and no heat to keep them warm.
At the sound of footsteps, she turned to see Jordan taking the stairs two at a time.
“Does the Militia have a plan that won’t result in my entire ship being shot up?” she asked.
“Yes, Captain,” Jordan said. “Sergeant Jenkins radioed in a few minutes ago.”
Ash followed Jordan to his station, where he pulled up a map of the Hive on his monitor.
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��This is an old access point to the farm,” he said, pointing to a blue line. “Jenkins has equipped a six-man fire team with crossbows. They plan on infiltrating the farm through this vent while the current strike team, positioned in the hallway, approaches the front entrance to the farm. That will keep Travis and his men distracted long enough for Jenkins to take them out.”
Ash leaned closer to the monitor. The old vents were unknown to most of the passengers. Travis would likely never see them coming, but if he did, the entire plan could backfire.
“I don’t like it,” she said.
“Captain, with all due respect, you can’t let your promise to X about Tin cloud your vision. There are over five hundred other souls counting on us.”
“Five hundred and ten, Lieutenant,” she said. “If you don’t count the divers—who, we both know, might die today.” Her voice softened. “Get me Samson.”
Jordan gave a low whistle. Hunt nodded from his station.
Samson emerged onscreen an instant later. His face was camouflaged with grime and grease. “Got any good news for me?”
Ash shook her head. “I was hoping you had some for me.”
“I’m doing all I can, Captain, but the turbofans and existing gas bladders simply can’t hold the mass of the ship. Not to mention, I had to divert some power to the rudders. We need that gas bladder. I’m working on two others that I might be able to fix, but I don’t think we have time.” Samson turned away from the screen as one of his engineers leaned in and whispered in his ear. “You have to be fucking kidding me.”
Ash wasn’t sure she could take any more bad news right now. A thought she had stuffed down many times before began to emerge from the depths of her mind: that maybe there was nothing she could do to keep the human race from extinction. No matter how hard she tried to believe that humans could change from their violent past, a man such as Travis would come along and shatter that illusion. She had fought her whole life, first in the Militia and then as captain, to save the people aboard her ship. She had given up everything for them, and now she had chosen to die from cancer rather than leave her post.
And for what?
In the end, it hadn’t been a storm that finally brought down the Hive. It had been a bullet.
Ash was tired. Tired of fighting gravity, tired of fighting the lower-deckers, tired of fighting the cancer.
Samson turned to face the screen and stood up. “I have another fire to put out. I’ll update you when I know more about the gas bladders. Good luck keeping us in the air, Captain.”
Before Ash could reply, the feed sizzled off. She felt Jordan’s intense stare as he waited. All the options crossed her mind. In the end, only one made sense, but she would not leave anything to chance. She unbuttoned the top of her collar.
“Tell Jenkins to stand by and wait for me.”
Jordan tilted his head to the side. “Captain?”
“Nope. That’s you now, Jordan, until I get back.”
“But—” Jordan began to say, when she cut him off.
“You didn’t think I’d sit here and watch our fire team raid the farms, did you?”
“Sometimes, I forget you were in the Militia,” he said. The hint of a grin formed on his face, and he threw a salute. “Good luck, Captain.”
Ash returned the salute and ran up the ramp. She burst into her office and hurried over to her armor hanging from the wall. She had kept her gear polished and ready all these years, just in case.
Three minutes later, she was running down the hallway with a two-man armed escort. Her armor didn’t fit as it had ten years ago when she was a lieutenant in the Militia. The cancer had cost her several pounds of muscle. It rattled as she moved, but she didn’t let it slow her down. Indeed, she picked up the pace when she saw the six-man fire team waiting two corridors away from the farm. Sergeant Jenkins greeted her with a salute. He had been just a kid when she was in the military; now he was one of the highest-ranking soldiers on the ship.
“Captain,” Jenkins said. “You coming in with us?”
She nodded grimly. “If that bastard wants to make demands, he can make them to my face.”
Jenkins handed her a crossbow and a quiver of bolts. The stock felt good in her hands. She had forgotten how powerful it made her feel—one more reason she had done everything she could to keep the crossbows and rifles from ever falling into the wrong hands.
In this, she had failed.
Buckling the quiver at her waist, Ash said, “What are you waiting for? Let’s go.”
* * * * *
Weaver stopped at a concrete wall to listen. The faint shrieking was not the lonely cries from the night before—these were sounds of hungry, enraged creatures. The Sirens were searching. Hunting for the divers.
“Who the fuck are you?” someone behind him said.
Weaver straightened and offered his hand.
“Commander Rick Weaver, from Ares. If you want to survive down here, you’ll keep quiet and follow me.” He could see the man’s eyes narrow behind the visor.
“I’m X, and this is Murph, Magnolia, Katrina, and Tony. Let’s get going, then.”
Weaver nodded to the other divers who had crouched against the wall. He knew their names now, but part of him still wasn’t convinced they were real and not just figments of his imagination. After days of trekking on the surface, he was running on vapors and instinct. His bones, eyelids, even his lips felt heavy. And it wasn’t from a lack of nutrition. He’d found plenty, first on Sarah and then in the supply crate. His body was suffering from exhaustion. Sleeping for only a few minutes at a time had taken a toll. If the other divers suddenly turned into snow flurries in the wind, he wouldn’t be surprised.
Besides, what kind of a name was “X”? It sounded like something a disordered mind would dream up.
“Stay close to me and keep one eye on the sky,” Weaver said as the noises waned and faded to nothing.
“Where the hell are you taking us?” X said.
“Somewhere safe. Just remember, if those things find us, we power down.” He checked to see that the others heard him. They weren’t on the same frequency, and he almost had to yell to be heard over the wind. It was dangerous, but he had no choice.
“Let’s go,” X said. He waved his team forward.
Weaver slowly guided them through the dead city. He looked to the skyline as they crossed an intersection. Floor after floor of steel frameworks towered above, with here and there a section of granite-clad wall. Hundreds of years ago, any one of them had housed many times the planet’s current population. Now they were home to the Sirens.
Beyond the next high-rise, he saw the gap that his falling home had punched in the skyline. They were close now. In a few minutes, he would explain everything and try to make a plan to get off this cursed hell world. The idea of leaving Hades hadn’t entirely sunk in till now. Brushing with death for days had taught him to suppress any glimmer of hope.
That glow faded as one of the divers yelled, “Contact!”
One minute, the snow-covered street was lifeless and dead; the next, it was crawling with the creatures. Weaver didn’t even have a chance to tell the others to power down. In an eyeblink, Tony had swung up his assault rifle and fired a burst.
“No!” Weaver screamed. But his words were drowned out by the crack of gunfire. Shots pinged off the buildings, and bullet casings rained down with the snowflakes.
Weaver contemplated taking out his battery unit and hiding. He had survived too long by himself to let some rookies get him killed.
He turned to run, then stopped. Something in him, even more powerful than the adrenaline, stopped him. If he left these people here, he would be alone because they would surely die. He couldn’t bear the thought of being down here by himself for another second. It would be even worse than dying.
Weaver twisted, aimed, and fired his rifle.
The burst found a Siren, spattering gore across the concrete wall behind it. He swung to his right, taking out two more. Then a third.
More Sirens streamed out of the empty windows and slid down to the street, screeching as they came.
Weaver finished off his magazine and yelled, “We have to get out of here. We’re attracting every one of these things in Hades!”
But again gunfire drowned his words. Taking another magazine from a cargo pocket, he caught a glimpse of motion on their right. Two Sirens had crept up behind Tony, who was busy firing in the opposite direction.
“Watch out! They’re flanking us!” Weaver shouted.
Everyone seemed too busy dealing with immediate threats to hear him. The other divers were firing on their own targets. Weaver aimed and squeezed off a shot. The bullet hit the skull of the first creature, and brains exploded into the air.
He tracked the second with his sights and pulled the trigger. The Siren shuddered from the impacts as a jagged chunk of its spinal column blew out behind it. Somehow, it kept moving, pulling itself along by its hands at alarming speed. A moment later, it was lunging at Tony.
Weaver centered the sights on the abomination’s skull and squeezed the trigger.
Click.
“Shit!” he shouted. He slapped the bottom of the magazine, then worked the bolt to free the jammed round. But he wasn’t fast enough. The thing grabbed Tony, spun him around, and ripped at his suit. A scream of agony rang out as talons found human flesh.
Weaver continued working the bolt on his weapon, knowing that every second was time Tony didn’t have to spare. The jammed round finally popped out, and Weaver unloaded a three-round burst into the creature.
Tony had dropped to his knees, catching something that fell from his suit. Weaver laid down covering fire and backed over to where Tony knelt. Only then did he see the rising steam and realize that the ropy cords in Tony’s hands were his intestines.
“What the fuck happened!” X yelled.
“Oh, my God, oh, my God!” Magnolia cried out.
“I have the medical kit,” Murph said. He lowered his weapon and pulled the small box out of a cargo pocket.
Hell Divers Page 24