Hell Divers (Book 7): Warriors

by Smith, Nicholas Sansbury

  Tracer rounds chased a pack of drones that rocketed toward the Hive. One of the machines burst apart, scattering hot metal over the water.

  It was a victory, but short-lived.

  The swarm came together into a tight V formation six strong. Bolts punched into the Hive, blowing another hole in the side.

  The Cazador pilot steered them in a wide arc around the flotsam of sunken boats.

  Fires burned on three levels of the rig, but the drones had stopped their assault to concentrate their fire on Elysium.

  Antiaircraft weapons on the warship pounded the sky, and two drones exploded. The other ten fanned out, then came back together into a chevron formation.

  Bolts pierced the bow and slammed into the command tower. Soldiers on deck ran for cover as the squadron wheeled around for another run.

  Ada looked around for the other warships. Where were they?

  And where was X? The legendary Hell Diver would be out here, not hiding in the capitol tower.

  She wondered again at the damage to the Hive. Something had happened when she was gone.

  Darkness carpeted the ocean as the last drip of sun was swallowed by the outer edges of the Vanguard Islands. Flames from burning rigs reflected off the attacking drones.

  It was easy to picture how they could have destroyed Discovery in a single pass if it were here. She prayed that Les had flown it somewhere safe. But that wasn’t in the captain and Hell Diver’s nature. Like X, he would be here in the thick of it, fighting to save their home.

  She looked on as the soldiers on Elysium put up a last-ditch fight. The machine guns, cannons, and antiaircraft artillery blazed away as a new pack of drones left an adjacent rig to join the fight.

  Together, the two aerial formations came in from starboard and port. Lasers pounded both sides at the same time.

  A third formation had approached low over the water to avoid the ship’s defenses. They surged up into the sky, then made a strafing run over the deck. Soldiers dived overboard to avoid the brilliant wave of fire that erased the command tower.

  The formations broke back into individual flight, and dozens of thrusters jetted purple flame as they moved on to new targets.

  Then all at once, they took to the sky, vanishing into the clouds.

  Jo-Jo clutched Ada’s leg as she looked out on the devastation. The injured Cazador and the fisherman wept beside her.

  Plumes of smoke trailed away from the rigs, and a thick layer drifted over the water. Ada coughed as they motored through it.

  Water sloshed nearly ankle deep in the boat. But they were almost to the capitol tower—close enough that they weren’t going to sink.

  The boat emerged from the pall of smoke, and the airship rooftop came into view under the glow of a rising almost full moon.

  Not a single Cazador or militia soldier stood on the docks of the capitol tower.

  Boats rocked in the water, still moored where they had been left.

  She jumped out when they pulled up, wincing as she landed on her injured foot. After getting Jo-Jo onto the dock, she helped the injured Cazador soldier. The fisherman who had piloted them here tied up the boat, then grabbed a rifle.

  Ada wanted to scream for X, but she walked in silence. Her gut told her the king wasn’t here and neither were the Hell Divers.

  Helping the injured Cazador with one arm and holding Jo-Jo in the other, she slogged toward the elevator cage. The fisherman went first, with his rifle shouldered. Looking skyward every few seconds, he slung his rifle and opened the elevator cage. Ada and the wounded soldier piled in, but Jo-Jo balked.

  “It’s okay,” Ada said, stroking its bristly hair. The monkey trembled against her, letting out a whimper as the cage jolted and jerked upward.

  The apocalyptic view took Ada’s breath away. She had been right about returning home to a war—just not the war she had expected.

  As the cage rose higher, the fisherman pointed at the eastern horizon. A large vessel had broken through the outer barriers and stood bathed in moonlight.

  She recognized the elongated warship. The aircraft carrier had arrived with its defector cargo to finish the job.

  FORTY

  X was tied to steel pipes that the skinwalkers had pounded into the ground. The irony wasn’t lost on him as they splayed his body out and tied him up in the shape of his nickname.

  He raised his head, his vision swarming with fireflies.

  Twin suns resolved themselves into torches that a pair of skinwalkers held. It wasn’t just the bone beast they were going to feed him to. Horn and his men planned to feast on the king’s flesh.

  The former prince of the Metal Islands sat on a throne of dead bodies that the skinwalkers had piled up over the past hour. Orange gauze plugged the hole in his armor where X had plunged Rhino’s spear.

  It had taken three skinwalkers to hold Horn down while a medic pulled the spear from below his collarbone. He had nearly strangled the medic before passing out. That had delayed the execution for a short time. Now he was awake again, and he seemed to like Moreto’s plan to barbecue X a piece at a time, forcing him to look on as he was being consumed. Horn sat there watching X and grinning while the fighting continued on Shadow and Raven’s Claw.

  The skinwalker leader didn’t seem worried about the battle. He wasn’t even watching. X was, though not by choice. Hanging from the poles, he had a decent view of the ocean and the smoke drifting away from Shadow. The skinwalkers’ last submarine had pounded it with rockets a few minutes earlier, then vanished under the surface.

  It would all be over soon, and X could do nothing to stop it.

  He turned his head toward the surviving Barracudas. There were only two, one of them Willis, the English-speaker. Both were tied up next to Magnolia and Victor.

  She lay in the dirt, hardly moving. Victor hadn’t moved for several minutes. He had taken two bullets, and X feared he had died of his injuries. Seeing his loyal guard gunned down like a beast when he had tried to help X was the breaking point.

  X looped his fingers through the rope tying him to the pole and tried to move a foot, but they were too tight to budge. Both guards with torches walked closer. One thrust the torch toward his face. The intense heat warmed his flesh. He turned his head to the side for some relief, this time in the other direction.

  The bone beast, still on its knees, chewed on the arm of a Barracuda soldier while awaiting the main course—X.

  He drew in a rattling breath. For most of his adult life, his body had been pushed from one extreme to another. He had always defied the odds, survived when others died, and fought his way through what seemed impossible situations. A high pain tolerance and sheer stubbornness had helped. But it was over for him, and he knew it.

  He had failed his people. Worst of all, he had doomed them by spreading them too thin. A good general would have dealt with one threat at a time. But all the good generals were dead—or about to be.

  X looked at the bloody spearheads that had belonged to Rhino. He had come so close to killing Horn with them.

  Magnolia squirmed in her restraints. Good, she still had fight left in her. And Victor moved again—another small cause for relief. The two warriors had journeyed far to fight with X, but they hadn’t been able to stop the evil.

  A bright light flickered on the horizon. X tried to make it out. It wasn’t coming from Shadow or Raven’s Claw.

  General Forge had destroyed the final submarine, leaving just the two warships. X held back a grin. Maybe there was a chance . . .

  Another explosion blossomed in the distance. The skinwalkers on patrol all stopped to look. A man standing on a silo called out in Spanish, and the men all cheered.

  It was over. Shadow was destroyed.

  X felt the deepest dread of his life. He forced himself to watch the warship sink and vanish. Again he tried to move his body, b
ut he was having a hard time breathing now, wheezing every few breaths.

  Horn walked over with an axe in hand.

  “Es hora de morir, Inmortal.”

  X didn’t know what he had said, but this had to be the end. He lifted his chin as high as he could.

  “I may have lost the fight in this life,” X said. He coughed. “But I’ll kill you a thousand times in hell.”

  Horn twirled his axe and moved over to X, looking at one leg, then the other. It appeared that he would start on the right. He waved one of the torchbearers over.

  X didn’t fear the pain. He didn’t particularly fear death, either, but he feared what would happen to everyone out there. Michael, Layla, Bray, Miles, Les, Rodger . . . The list went on and on.

  Moreto joined her son, arms folded across her chest. They exchanged a few words in Spanish, something about a perro.

  X knew the word for dog. Had they found Miles?

  Letting out a scream, he pulled with his left hand on the rope while kicking with his feet as hard as he could.

  Horn watched for a moment, then laughed. Moreto joined in with the other soldiers until everyone was laughing uproariously.

  “You sick bastards!” Magnolia shouted. “I’ll kill all of you! all of you!”

  Horn glared at her and licked his lips again, then turned back to X as Moreto walked over and kicked Magnolia in the gut.

  X felt his sinewy muscles bulge as he fought to get free. His face burned with rage.

  Horn tilted his head, but not at X.

  A whooshing sounded. Something hit the dirt behind X. Then something else.

  The guard in front of X slumped over onto his torch, two arrows sticking out of his back. Another guard grasped at an arrow through his face mask.

  Muzzle flashes came from the scrapyard, and several more skinwalkers fell. Horn grabbed the second torchbearer, using him as a human shield.

  Bullets riddled the man’s armor and the dirt behind him. Horn tossed the limp body aside, and the torch landed right in front of X.

  The flames licked up between his boots.

  Horn brought up his axe to finish X, but a bullet hit the blade, and another punched into his arm. He hunched down and bolted away from the gunfire, no longer the gloating victor.

  Shouting broke the momentary lull.

  “For X!”

  The voice sounded familiar, but he couldn’t place it.

  Barking rose above the war cries. That voice, he could place.

  Miles came running from the scrapyard, flanked by a dozen soldiers in militia and Cazador armor. Ton ran in front, his assault rifle blazing.

  The skinwalker guarding Magnolia and Victor took several rounds. Moreto hit the dirt and scrambled for cover while the other skinwalkers knelt to fire.

  X could feel the heat of the torch, but he couldn’t take his eyes from the battle.

  Magnolia pushed herself to her feet and looked over at him. Blood dripped from the corner of her mouth. She staggered a few steps, righted herself, and kicked Moreto in the face as she tried to crawl away.

  “How ya like it, ya withered old witch?” Magnolia shouted.

  X couldn’t do anything but watch the chaos unfold around him. Ton, ten militia soldiers, and four Barracudas laid into the dozen skinwalkers still standing.

  Horn returned to the battle to fight with his men. He brought an axe down on a militiaman’s shoulder, splitting his upper chest in half. Then he yanked it free and threw it into the back of another soldier.

  Magnolia kicked Moreto once more and then grabbed an assault rifle from the ground. She lined up the sights on Horn’s head.

  “Die, motherfucker!” she yelled.

  She pulled the trigger, but the gun didn’t fire.

  “Spear!” X yelled at her.

  Tossing away the gun, she ran over to the spear still sticking out of the ground.

  The bone beast roared as a burst of rounds hit its handler. Free now, it grabbed the nearest person, another skinwalker. It twisted off his helmet, head and all.

  “X!” Brett yelled.

  The militia soldier that X had told to look after Miles was waving.

  “Shoot that thing in the eye sockets!” X yelled.

  Brett aimed at the monster’s head and fired a burst that broke away a shard of bone. The creature roared, muscles flexing under its bony armor.

  Then it lurched forward, blind and pawing at the air.

  The beast slammed into the armored back of a skinwalker swinging a cutlass at Ton. He skidded across the ground, and the creature sniffed to find him before he could crawl away. Claws ripped through his back armor.

  Ton pulled a blaster and walked toward the feasting monster. He held the weapon up toward the bone beast’s mouth as it turned toward him.

  The buckshot blew through the mouth and out the back of the skull, cutting short the beast’s final roar. The boom of the weapon was one of the most beautiful sounds X had ever heard.

  Ton ran over to Victor while Magnolia stumbled over to X with the spear she had plucked from the ground. She cut his restraints, and he slumped to the earth, arm and legs numb.

  “Finish this,” she said, placing the half spear in his hand.

  Summoning the little strength he had, X got to his feet. Miles ran over, nudging against him.

  The fighting was mostly over. Five militia soldiers and three Cazadores had Horn and his remaining two men surrounded. Yelling in Spanish, the bastard prince swung his axe through the air at the encroaching circle of enemies.

  Moreto was sitting, hands clasped behind her head.

  Dozens of bodies littered the dirt. Magnolia picked up another assault rifle, then suddenly stopped, staring into the boatyard. X saw two more figures emerge. One hobbled on crutches made of broken oars, and the other wore a robe.

  “Imulah! Rodger!” Magnolia yelled.

  She ran over to them while X limped over to Horn and his mother. Brett and another militia soldier backed away to let the king through.

  Horn swung the axe once more, cutting only air. He went down on one knee, bleeding through the gauze that plugged his armor. His two men lowered their weapons and put their hands behind their heads.

  “Everyone back,” X grumbled.

  He walked up to Horn, who had to know he was defeated.

  But as soon as X got close, Horn swiped with his axe again. X stepped back, easily avoiding the blow. Horn fell to his stomach, and Magnolia used a knife to pin one hand to the ground. X used the spear to pin his other hand.

  An animal howl of pain followed. He centered his obsidian eyes on X, then Magnolia.

  X didn’t finish him off. He had a promise to keep.

  Turning, he gestured to Rodger and Imulah. Magnolia grabbed Moreto, dragged her over, and dumped her next to her son.

  Rodger joined Magnolia, looking down at the two skinwalkers.

  “You okay?” she asked.

  “I will be soon,” Rodger replied. “You?”

  “Same.”

  “Someone hand me a blaster,” X said.

  Brett said something to Ton, who handed his over. X flipped open the breech and found a buckshot shell and a flare loaded. He flipped it shut and handed the weapon to Rodger.

  “Not until I tell you, Rodge,” X said.

  Magnolia helped steady Rodger as, with a shaky hand, he pointed the blaster at Moreto.

  X coughed deep. “Imulah,” he said, “I want you to interpret for me.”

  Imulah scurried over.

  “As king of the Vanguard Islands, I sentence—”

  Horn interrupted, talking fast. He followed up by spitting on X’s boots.

  X calmly looked to Imulah.

  “He said that you are not worthy of the crown, and that’s why all your people will die by the metal gods.”<
br />
  Moreto mumbled something next.

  “She said you may have defeated them here, but the sky people and the traitorous Cazadores will all die soon . . .” Imulah paused.

  “What?” X asked.

  “She said the islands are burning.”

  “What does that mean?” X asked.

  He had a feeling that it meant what it sounded like. That the defectors had reached their home. And X was helpless to stop it now—with Shadow and Renegade sunk, they had no way to make it home.

  Moreto spoke again but was silenced by a crack that made X flinch. The flare from Rodger’s blaster burst against the side of Moreto’s head, setting her hair on fire.

  Horn let out a scream of agony as his mother wailed. He yanked up on the blades pinning his hands down.

  X pulled the spear, freeing one hand.

  Swiveling his head, Horn focused a soulless gaze of rage at X.

  His mouth opened to let out a scream, but X cut it short with a stroke of the blade across his throat. Horn reached up to stanch the blood as pink bubbles burst from his lips.

  Moreto, still burning, writhed in agony.

  Aiming the blaster, Rodger pulled the trigger. A dozen double-aught pellets hit her in the chest, silencing her. Rodger dropped the weapon to the ground and leaned on Magnolia, sobbing.

  X watched as Horn kicked at the ground, still fighting for life. He bent down over him with the spear still in his grip.

  “For Rhino,” he said, and staked Horn through his icy heart.

  Leaving the blade in his chest, X walked away, only to flinch as a voice shouted in the distance.

  “Boats on the beach!”

  X turned away from Horn and Moreto. “Who?” he shouted.

  “I don’t know,” the militia scout yelled back. “But Raven’s Claw is still out there.”

  “Get ready,” X said. “This ain’t over!”

  The soldiers trained their weapons on the boatyard. Ton stuck by Victor, their backs against a brick wall. Both men held pistols.