Warriors

by Nicholas Sansbury Smith

  Les felt deflated. He no longer had a day with his family; he had just hours.

  “I want you to know I’ll look after Phyl and Katherine while you’re gone,” Layla said.

  “I know, and I appreciate that very much.”

  “I wish I could come with . . .”

  “New life is priceless, and it must be protected.”

  “It’s been an honor serving with you, Captain.”

  Les smiled. In some ways, she had been like a daughter to him. He hated not having her on the most important mission of their lives.

  Layla reached out and embraced him.

  “Please be careful, and bring back my husband,” she said. “I know you will, Captain.”

  “Giraffe, please,” he said, grinning. “I’m sick of being called ‘Captain.’ I just want to be a civilian again.”

  “Soon,” she said. “When you return.”

  Her voice seemed to catch, but before he could respond, Phyl crowed, “Dad, Daddy! I got a fish!”

  The pole arched, bending down. He hurried over and grabbed it, pulling it from the holder, and spun the reel several times to make sure the hook was set.

  The fish fought back, pulling hard enough that Les almost lost the rod.

  “Here, help me reel it in,” he said. He moved back from the rail and bent down to let Phyl grab the reel handle.

  “Twist it,” he said.

  Phyl turned the handle, intent on the prize.

  “It’s a big one, Papa!” she said.

  Les couldn’t see the fish, but whatever it was, it was big.

  He held the rod as she turned the reel.

  The three women stepped up to watch.

  “Don’t let it get away,” said his wife.

  “Phyl’s got this,” Les said.

  He spotted a long, narrow shadow swimming below the surface. It darted away, then back again. He raised the rod, pulling the fish toward the surface.

  “Faster!” he said.

  Phyl let out a grunt.

  The silvery fish broke through the surface but then went back under, darting away again.

  “Holy wastes,” Les said. Did they have a big tuna on the line? It was so damn fast and powerful.

  Pulling up on the rod, he got the fish closer to the surface again while Phyl spun the reel.

  When it was just below the waves, Les yanked on the rod, and the fish burst out of the water, somersaulting in the air. He reeled it the rest of the way up until he could grab the line in one hand.

  “Take the rod,” Les said to Katherine.

  She grabbed it, squealing as Les pulled the fish over the railing. He grabbed the back with his other hand and brought it to the deck, where he put a knee on the slender body.

  The fish had to be two feet long, with needle teeth that were snapping at his hand.

  He glanced up at Phyl. “You did it, sweetie,” he said. “You caught a big fish!”

  Phyl walked over timidly, staring with wide eyes.

  “What is that thing?” Katherine asked.

  “I’m not sure,” Les said.

  Layla bent down. “Looks a lot like the crest that Rhino wore, and the ones that Mac and Felipe have on their armor,” she said. “I think it might be a barracuda.”

  “Wow, a barracoooda, Papa,” Phyl said.

  Les carefully removed the hook from the mouth and then held the fish up in both hands.

  “Want to touch it before I throw it back in?” he asked.

  Phyl moved over, cautiously. Then she brought up a finger and ran it along the body. The barracuda squirmed, forcing her back into Katherine’s arms.

  “Okay, I better get it back home,” Les said. “Say goodbye.”

  “Bye, Barracooooda,” Phyl said.

  Les gently tossed the fish over the rail. It landed with a splash and swam slowly in a circle, stunned.

  “I want to see,” Phyl said.

  He picked her up for a better view just as the silver body vanished into the depths.

  “That was so cool,” Phyl said.

  “Great work, kiddo. You can now tell the other kids you caught a barracuda, one of the fiercest fish in the ocean.”

  She smiled wider and looked up at him.

  “I figured out what I want to be when I get older,” she said.

  “A fisherwoman?” Katherine said.

  Phyl shook her head. “Nope.”

  “What, then?” Les asked.

  “I want to be a barracuda warrior that fights the monsters.”

  Les and Katherine exchanged a worried glance.

  “I better get going,” Layla said. She held up a high five to Phyl before parting. “Good job, little lady.”

  “Thanks,” Phyl said, slapping her hand.

  Eevi smiled at Phyl and left with Layla.

  “See you in a bit,” Les said.

  Phyl’s smiled disappeared as Les put her back on the deck. The time had come to tell her the truth about his mission.

  “I wish Trey were here to see me catch that fish,” she said. “Maybe he’s watching from above.”

  “Oh, he is, sweetie,” Katherine said.

  Les bent down so he could meet his daughter’s eyes.

  “What’s wrong?” Phyl said. She looked to her mom and said, “Something’s wrong, isn’t it, Mama?”

  Katherine looked at Les.

  “I’m going away for a while again,” he said.

  “To fight the monsters?”

  “Yes. But this time, it’s different,” he said. “I’m going to make sure they never come back again and that you can fish whenever you want and grow up and be whatever you want to be.”

  “When will you be back?” Phyl asked.

  “I don’t know,” he said. “Hopefully, I won’t be gone too long.”

  Phyl looked at the sky. “I want to come this time,” she said. “I caught a barracuda; I’m strong enough. I promise.”

  “Not this trip,” he said, “but maybe someday.”

  “But . . .”

  “Barracuda warriors don’t pout,” he said. “Barracuda warriors are like Hell Divers. They don’t cry. They just do what they have to do so humanity can keep carrying on.”

  Phyl thought on it, then nodded firmly, her pigtails bobbing. “Okay, but promise me you’re going to be back soon so we can go fishing again.”

  “I promise,” Les said, trying not to choke up. “Just remember, no matter where I am, I’m always here.”

  He tapped Phyl over her heart and kissed her forehead.

  * * * * *

  Storm clouds rolled in with the darkness over the Vanguard islands. X watched the footage Cricket had captured of Raven’s Claw.

  On his tablet, the recorded video feed was grainy, but there was no mistaking the massive Cazador warship that the bastard son of el Pulpo had stolen and sailed to the Outrider.

  Soldiers patrolled on the deck, wearing human skin over their armor. X zoomed in on the one wearing a horn on his helmet.

  “I’m coming for you, hijoeputa,” X said.

  He set the tablet aside and went back to writing letters. When he finished the last one, he sealed the envelope with a hot wax stamp of the Hell Diver Raptor symbol. Writing with his left hand had taken him longer than he expected, and now he was running late for the launches.

  You’d be late to your own funeral, Sloan had told him.

  I’ve never met a warrior who can’t tell time, Rhino once said.

  X put the letters in his backpack and gestured for Miles to follow him out of his quarters. He blew out the candle and shut the door.

  They took the stairs down to the docks. Dozens of soldiers waited in the moonlight, their armored silhouettes turning in his direction. There would be no ceremony for the departing warriors to
night, no boats with thousands of Cazadores holding torches and candles to wish them success on their missions. No flower petals being cast before them to show love for the men and women defending this audacious miracle in the middle of the ocean.

  Tonight, they were leaving in silence, as discreetly as possible.

  Layla waited on the docks with Phyl and Katherine, all of them wearing robes against the unusually cold wind. Michael stood with them, arms around his wife and unborn son.

  Several other people were outside, having said goodbye to their loved ones, while many more were on their balconies, gazing out at the warships.

  “King Xavier,” Michael said.

  “You ready?” X asked.

  Michael and Layla ended their long embrace, and he hefted his pack and gear.

  “Look after Les for us,” Katherine said to Michael.

  “I will.”

  X fished in his bag and handed a note to Layla. “Read this after we leave,” he said.

  She took it gingerly, then tightened her grip as the wind gusted.

  “This isn’t goodbye,” X said.

  He hugged Layla, then Katherine and Phyl, and walked away at a brisk pace with Miles by his side. Michael ran to catch up.

  At the end of the pier, Ton and Victor stood, still as statues, on a boat with a militia soldier behind the wheel. X helped Miles aboard, and off they went. Their destination, Renegade. The warship was fueled and waiting with Shadow in the distance.

  The dark bulk of Elysium came into view in the moonlight. The massive training vessel and flagship of the Cazador Navy carried over a hundred Cazador and militia soldiers manning its cannons and machine guns, ready to defend the islands.

  The ferry bore right, and a rig blocked the view of the flagship. X took a moment to look up at the airship he had called home for nearly all his life.

  Scaffolding surrounded the sections of the Hive damaged by the skinwalkers’ attack. Sparks showered down from welders patching up the hull. The teams had worked tirelessly to repair the exterior and engineers were already fixing life-support systems inside the ship.

  X wanted it ready to fly.

  On the balconies, civilians and militia soldiers patrolled, some armed with nothing but crossbows. Everyone had pitched in to fix the Hive and to ensure it was defended from another attack at all costs.

  “It’s our turn now, buddy,” X said, reaching down to pet Miles.

  “X,” Michael said.

  “Yeah?”

  Michael unslung his backpack. “After the Sky Arena training the other day, I made something for you that I think will help you defeat Horn.”

  He pulled out a contraption with leather straps and buckles.

  “It’s not a robotic defector limb, but it should help you handle the spear better,” Michael said. “Half of it, anyway.”

  He handed the prosthetic arm to X.

  “Go ahead and try it on.”

  X put the contraption around his stump, and Michael cinched the leather straps tight.

  “What the hell am I going to do with this?” X asked.

  Michael picked up Rhino’s spear from the deck and clicked the middle, pulling the shafts apart. Then he inserted one into a metal slot in the prosthesis and twisted until it clicked.

  “Go ahead, try it,” Michael said.

  X stood, the spear shaft and blade pointing down. For a moment, he just stared.

  “Swing it already,” he said.

  The shaft and blade whooshed through the air.

  Michael smiled.

  The half shaft wasn’t heavy and felt natural. After a few swings, jabs, and uppercuts, X smiled, too.

  “Pretty smooth, right?” Michael said. “I borrowed the spear when you were in the library. Had to make a few mods, but it should work.”

  X went to the back of the boat, where he could swing without taking anyone’s head off. For the first time in weeks, he felt as if he could fight again.

  Once again, Michael had helped fill him with confidence. Just as when he gave X the fortune cookie quote on the dive that had separated them for a decade.

  X raised the blade again.

  The militia soldier steered the ferry around the decommissioned airship. X spotted motion on the decks of Shadow and Renegade. Even this far away, he could hear the voices of the crew, sailors, and Hell Divers.

  X thought of the last decision he must make, one that had burdened him for days now.

  Miles nudged up against his leg, and again X bent down to stroke the husky, trying to remain calm even though he felt as if he might puke.

  He had to face what seemed an impossible task, rallying an army to fight battles he wasn’t sure they could win.

  Miles’s touch and the renewed confidence bestowed by Michael’s gift did help with the anxiety, though.

  “I really appreciate this,” he said to Michael. “I wish there were something I could give you to help you take out the machines.”

  Before Michael could reply, the boat slowed, and Victor climbed onto the bow to fend off the hull of Renegade.

  “King Xavier, you go first,” Victor said. His English was getting better by the day.

  The refugee warrior grabbed a rope ladder hanging over the hull of the warship. X turned around and tucked Miles into his improvised canvas packsaddle. Then X hoisted him over his shoulders and started up the ladder.

  Rodger and Magnolia were the first two people X saw when he got up to the deck. All the other divers stood around piles of gear bags they were taking to Discovery.

  Surrounding the team was a group of Barracudas, including Mac and Felipe. They had selected twenty of the best warriors left in the Cazador army to fight the skinwalkers.

  X looked them over. Many of them were bulky and muscular like Rhino, Whale, and Fuego. There were also lean women like Wendig, and one who reminded him of Sloan.

  Trusting eyes locked on to X, reminding him of all the dead divers and soldiers who had trusted his leadership.

  Brave warriors always rose when the brave fell. People like Colonel Mac and Felipe, and General Forge and several of his officers, fresh off Shadow for final orders. And Lieutenant Wynn and two of his soldiers recently promoted to sergeant, who would stay behind on Elysium.

  X approached, wondering how many of them would perish.

  “All right, gather around,” X said. “Imulah, up here with me.”

  The Hell Divers formed the inner circle with General Forge and his men, while the Barracudas clustered behind them.

  X dreaded talking tonight, but his words had never been more important.

  Miles sat and looked up with his sapphire gaze. X smiled at the dog, then spoke.

  “Tonight, we embark on two missions to save our home. Facing dual threats from the very machines that brought our species to the brink of extinction, and the evil men who worship those machines.”

  He walked in a circle so he could see everyone while Imulah translated.

  “If we defeat our enemies,” he pointed his prosthetic spear at the rigs around them, at the hundreds of torches burning on the decks where Cazadores and sky people had made their homes, “then we will have secured safety and peace for the next generation of humanity.” X looked to Michael. “Peace and safety for the children who will help us rebuild, repopulate, and thrive.”

  X paused to look at Rodger and Magnolia. He had always believed that the only people who could save humanity were Hell Divers, which was why he couldn’t send them to Africa. The world needed them, and risking them all on one mission again could doom humanity. So he was sending them to Aruba. He couldn’t bear to lose Magnolia and Michael, although that could still happen if both missions failed.

  If they did, there was still one final failsafe, noted in the letters in his bag.

  “Some of you are wondering how we are g
oing to win this fight,” X said. “Truth is, none of us know how much time we have, but I will gladly die to protect our home.”

  His voice grew louder. “I will gladly die for the Hell Diver, militia soldier, or Cazador warrior beside me! We win this fight not just through skill and courage, but by relying on the men and women at our side!”

  Michael clapped Rodger on the shoulder, and Arlo nudged Lena. All around, the group seemed to come closer together. Cazadores thumped their chest armor and clanked their spear shafts on the deck.

  “Hell Divers never give up,” X yelled. “Even when the odds are stacked against us, we press on, we fight. We are the last guardians of humanity!” He raised his spear into the air. “We are the soldiers of the apocalypse, and we will fight so humanity survives!”

  The Hell Divers and other warriors yelled in unison, raising weapons and fists. “Immortal!” shouted the Hell Divers and militia soldiers.

  “¡Inmortal!” shouted the Cazadores.

  X shook his head. He hated that name, just as he hated being called “king.” But the chant grew louder, and it only helped their cause. Sometimes, it was better to believe in a fantasy than in nothing at all.

  A humming rose over their voices, and blue lights appeared on the horizon. The chant was drowned out by the whir of turbofans.

  X lowered his spear and watched as Discovery flew toward their location.

  “There she is!” Rodger yelled.

  The Hell Divers said their final goodbyes, with Rodger and Magnolia hugging Sofia, Edgar, Arlo, Ted, Lena, and the others.

  X hurried over to his pack and pulled out the letters. He handed the first one to Wynn. “If something goes wrong, these are your final orders, Lieutenant,” he said.

  Wynn nodded. “Good luck, sir.”

  “You too,” he said. “Defend this place at all costs.”

  X handed two more sealed letters to Michael. “Give this to Captain Mitchells,” he said. “And this one is for you.”

  Michael hugged X harder than ever before.

  “This isn’t goodbye,” X said again. “It’s just good luck.”

  The final weapons were distributed, with one laser rifle going to Magnolia, the other to Michael. Not nearly enough, but from what X knew about the top-secret plan Timothy and Les were working on, it would help buy them time to destroy the machines.