“Copy, go ahead, over.”
“One of our drones picked up beacon from a lifeboat.”
X stared at the radio. Could it be possible?
“On my way,” he said.
X dashed across the ruined field, Miles hot on his heels, and into a stairwell. The dog wagged his tail, barking playfully. When they got to the boat, Victor whipped the mooring line off the cleat and jumped aboard. X roared away from the piers and out across open water, sending Miles sliding across the deck.
“Sorry, boy,” X said.
The dog picked himself up and jumped up on the captain’s chair as X stood at the wheel.
“Layla, do you copy?” X said into the radio.
“Copy.”
“Pedro picked up a beacon. I’ll send you the coordinates.”
“Is it him?”
“No one knows,” X said. “Go ahead and run the engines, though.”
“Thank you, X.”
“See you in a few minutes.”
X buried the throttle the rest of the way as they flew past the trading post rig. The construction ship was already there. A fleet of smaller boats, some of them without engines, were already docked.
On every level, people were hard at work, cleaning up the mess on the rig. They would rebuild, but to survive they would need food.
One thing at a time.
Thirty minutes later, the One-Armed Bandit broke through the barrier between light and darkness. Lightning flashed across the black vault of sky, and thunder rattled the cockpit fittings. The water began to slap against the bow as it shot over the waves.
When he arrived at the stated coordinates, a Cazador naval speedboat was there. He raked his overhead beams across the water, but it wasn’t until he steered around it that he saw the orange lifeboat.
Victor joined X on the deck. “It is from Blood Trawler,” he said.
X nodded, staring at the orange hull, praying that Michael, Rodger, and Alfred were inside.
Lights from another boat hit their position, and X brought up his hand to shield his eyes from the glare. The Sea Wolf bobbed up and down on approach.
“Michael!” Layla screamed.
She stood on the bow, gripping the rail as Ton, behind the wheel, nudged the boat close.
X felt his gut tighten. Something was wrong. If Michael and the others were on board, why hadn’t they popped the hatch?
Layla swung a leg over the railing and looked ready to jump when X called out. “Wait. Let us secure the boat!”
“No way!” she yelled back.
X waved for Victor to get him a little closer.
When the Bandit came alongside, X hopped from the gunwale onto the enclosed lifeboat. Sliding on the wet fiberglass, he fell and very nearly went into the drink. Layla was right there and helped him up.
They clambered over to the hatch. The moment of truth . . .
X hadn’t felt his heart pound this hard since he lost his arm.
Layla released the latches, and the hatch popped open.
“Tin!” Layla yelled.
She slid down through the hatch, but X already knew there was no one inside.
He fell to his knees, defeated.
“Tin!” Layla cried. “Rodge . . .”
X let her cry for a moment inside the empty lifeboat, then finally went over and reached down.
“Come on, kid,” he said. “They aren’t here.”
She took his hand and let him pull her out.
X wanted to tell her to keep the faith and not lose hope, but at this point, he couldn’t bring himself to lie. Their chances of being alive now were all but nonexistent.
He stood on the deck, scanning the waves.
Where are you, Tin?
Fourteen
Kade threw on fatigues and hurried out of the brig as soon as the hatch opened. For the past two hours, he had sat in a small cell during quarantine.
Protocol normally called for a simple spray-down upon return to the airship, but this was something else entirely.
Two militia guards led him away from the brig. The other cells looked empty except for the last one. Kade heard the deep snoring and looked inside as he passed.
Gran Jefe lay on a bed, naked, one massive leg dangling off the side, exposing rather more of himself than Kade would have preferred. He suddenly sat up, scratching his balls.
“Hola,” he growled. “You guys gonna let me out now?”
The guards both laughed, but the image would forever be seared in Kade’s mind.
“Good God, mate, cover yourself!” he said.
“¿Qué?”
Kade shook his head and kept walking while one of the guards unlocked the cell and handed Gran Jefe a set of fatigues.
When Kade and Gran Jefe got to the launch bay, Magnolia, Edgar, and Sofia were already there. They looked a bit the worse for wear but were alert.
“Any news on the Vanguard Islands yet?” Kade asked.
“Just that the storm was bad and Michael, Alfred, and Rodger are among the missing,” Edgar said.
“I’m sorry,” Kade said.
Magnolia simply nodded.
“Knowing my friends, they are alive,” Edgar said, giving Magnolia a concerned glance.
“Better believe it,” Sofia said. “Those three are pretty hard to kill.”
Kade went to Magnolia. “I’m sorry, but don’t lose faith,” he said.
“I’m not.” She glanced up. “Thanks for coming for us.”
“No worries, mate. I know you’d do the same.” He paused, looking over his shoulder for a minute to see if anyone else was in the launch bay. “So, wanna tell me what’s up with the quarantine?”
“We’ll show you,” Magnolia said.
“What about food? I’m starving,” Gran Jefe said.
“Go and eat, then,” Sofia said.
Gran Jefe grunted but followed them out of the launch bay.
They headed to the medical ward, which was also quarantined off. Inside, Josh Stamos, a doctor from the airship Victory, was dressed in a white CBRN suit.
Arlo was on an operating table, with tubes running to ports in his chest and arms. The doctor lifted a pad covering the wound on his right biceps, revealing pink, inflamed flesh.
“Oh, damn,” Kade said.
He moved along the glass panel for a better view. Ada was in the same room, unconscious and lying on a table, with an IV tube in her wrist and a ventilator in her mouth.
“They were infested,” Magnolia said. “Dr. Stamos says it’s some sort of parasitic annelid worm.”
Kade had seen people infected on dives years ago, but he had never seen anything like the eggs he discovered all over Ada.
A voice grumbled behind them.
Gran Jefe wedged himself up between Edgar and the bulkhead, both men staring through the viewport.
Doc Stamos applied a new dressing while they watched.
“So do we know anything more about this guy yet?” Edgar asked. He tilted his head toward the other end of the room.
The teenager that Magnolia had captured was sitting on a bed in an enclosed room, looking out at them. Kade had seen that look before on frightened animals: a mixture of anger and fear.
“I just got out of quarantine, too,” Magnolia said.
Footfalls sounded behind them.
They all turned and came to attention as Captain Rolo strode down the passage.
“Any news of the islands?” Magnolia asked him.
“No.”
Rolo stopped in front of them, looking at Kade first, then Sofia.
“You disobeyed a direct order,” said the captain. He raised a gray brow and glanced at their prisoner. “Not to mention you brought back this hostile creature.”
“This young man completes our
mission,” Magnolia said.
“Come again?” Rolo replied. “I thought you said ‘completes.’ ”
“Our mission was to recon the area, was it not, Captain?” she asked.
Rolo eyed her up and down. “I know damn well what the mission is, and three Hell Divers jeopardized it by disobeying a direct order. I understand you all do things differently than we do, but let me remind you who’s in charge.”
“Sir, all due respect, but that prisoner holds the key to the Panama Canal and the area that King Xavier wants to expand into,” Edgar said. “We brought him back to share his knowledge of the area with us.”
Rolo gave Edgar a quick glance, then walked over to Kade and Sofia.
“I knew you’d be trouble,” he said to her. “But I expected more from you, Kade.”
The captain turned and walked away, saying, “I will have the prisoner escorted to the bridge for interrogation in an hour. Magnolia and Kade are the only ones authorized to speak to him.”
“Oh, thank you so much, Captain,” Magnolia said sarcastically.
She rolled her eyes as Rolo left.
“He means well,” Kade said.
“Yeah, so did Captain Jordan,” Magnolia said.
“Who?”
“Just imagine if the Almighty were to breathe life into a two-hundred-pound heap of Siren shit, then add arrogance and a truly foul personality. Then you would have the former captain.” She let out a sigh and returned to the window as Doctor Stamos walked over.
He pushed an intercom button, and Kade joined Magnolia at the glass.
“How are they doing?” she asked.
“Arlo is stable now, but he has a fever and a case of necrotizing fasciitis.”
“What’s that?”
“It’s the technical term for flesh-eating bacteria, although this seems to be a new strain. It’s working faster than any I’ve studied. I’m going to have to remove more tissue to save his arm.”
“And Ada?”
Stamos shook his helmet. “I’m still running tests, but she is in a coma.”
Sofia put a hand on Magnolia’s shoulder.
“She will pull through,” Sofia said. “Hell, she survived the wastes. She will survive this.”
“I’ll keep you updated,” Stamos said.
“How about our friend?” Magnolia asked.
“He’s dehydrated and his body fat is about five percent, but other than that, he’s just really dirty,” said the doctor. “I’m treating him for body lice and some infections.”
“Hard to believe he survived down there,” Kade said. He couldn’t wait to talk to this kid. There was no telling what he had been through or what parts of the world he had seen during his time on that ship.
An hour later, Kade and Magnolia were on their way to the brig, where the militia had transferred the prisoner to a quarantine cell.
When they got there, the soft glow of a hologram emerged. The ship’s AI, Timothy Pepper, flashed a kind smile.
“Hello, Commander Katib and Kade Long,” he said politely.
“T, I told you to stop being so damn formal,” Magnolia said.
“I apologize, but that is how I was programmed.”
Kade had never met the old version of the AI, but this new version had been reset to the original operating system, erasing all memories from the time he had spent with the sky people, and the trauma of losing his family and his own life at the Hilltop Bastion.
From what Kade understood, Timothy didn’t remember his former life as a human, which was probably just as well.
“All right, Timothy, let’s see if you can get him to talk,” Magnolia said.
The AI’s hologram stepped up to the cell door.
The young man huddled in the back of the small cell, clearly frightened of the AI’s ghostly image.
“Probably the first time he’s seen one,” Kade whispered.
Timothy started talking in Mandarin to see if he would understand, but the prisoner remained silent. For the next ten minutes, the AI had no luck at all, even when he switched to Cantonese, Hakka, Fukien, and finally other East Asian languages.
Magnolia reached into a satchel over her back and pulled out an apple. She held it up and gestured to the kid.
“You want this?” she asked, holding it out.
The kid stepped forward, then hesitated.
Magnolia pointed at her chest.
“Magnolia,” she said. Then she pointed at the kid.
“Yejun,” he replied.
“Ah, that isn’t Chinese,” Timothy said. “He speaks Korean.”
“Good,” Kade said. “Now we’re getting somewhere.”
“Ask him how long he was down there,” Magnolia said.
She took out a knife and cut off a hunk of apple, which she tossed through the bars. The kid caught it, stuffed it in his mouth, and held out his hand.
“Tell him I’ll give him more if he answers our questions,” she said.
Timothy explained, and Yejun replied.
“He says he was down there for the past five years of his life,” Timothy said.
Magnolia and Kade exchanged a glance.
“Ask him where the rest of his people are,” she asked.
Again Timothy spoke in the foreign tongue.
While they waited for the kid’s answer, Kade suddenly wondered if they had stolen this young man from a family or friends.
That thought vanished when Timothy turned to Magnolia and said, “He says he is the last of his tribe.”
Magnolia held out another piece of apple.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “Tell him that.”
“He has a question, too,” Timothy said. He shook his head. “Wait. No, that isn’t right. It’s not a question; it’s a request.”
“What’s that?” Magnolia asked.
Timothy turned his head slightly. “Yejun wants to talk to our leader.”
* * * * *
“Keep swimming,” Michael said.
“I can’t,” Rodger replied. “I have to stop. My foot is killing me, and my . . .”
Michael kept swimming in the direction of the Vanguard Islands, the life jacket keeping his head above the water. Rodger rolled onto his back, bobbing up and down over the waves. He had taken off his prosthesis and was treading water with one foot and a stump—no easy feat.
Rodger coughed again. A deep, heavy rattle in his lungs.
“You okay?” Michael called out.
“Yeah. Just need to rest a bit.” Rodger kept on his back, still coughing.
Michael paddled over to his friend.
They had abandoned the lifeboat when it burned its last drop of fuel. The sea creature that had checked them out earlier must have moved on for easier prey, for they had seen no sign of it, and Cricket had found no large life forms with its last scan. A welcome reading, to be sure, but Michael wasn’t about to relax his vigilance. No one even knew what sorts of mutant beasts may have been disturbed by the hurricane.
Kept afloat by his life vest, he tried not to think of what lurked below. He wondered what stroke and kicking style would be least likely to draw the wrong sort of attention, and finally settled on a modified backstroke using a frog kick and arm movements that stayed below the surface, avoiding any splash.
In his mind, he kept picturing a gigantic shark biting him in half or swallowing him whole. Or a giant octopus wrapping him up and dragging him down into the cold black.
He shook away the thoughts and focused on conserving his physical and mental energy. They had two bottles of fresh water—enough to get them through a day at least—but he was already knackered.
He pulled the dry bag containing Cricket from his vest. According to the digital map, they were still thirty-five miles from the Vanguard Islands. They had swum three miles over
the past three hours.
He made himself wait to take a drink. Hoping to forget his thirst for a few moments, he did a life scan with Cricket. It came back negative—nothing near the surface but the two of them.
“How much farther?” Rodger asked.
“Not too far,” Michael replied, tucking the droid back into the dry bag.
“Don’t lie to me, Tin. You’re terrible at it.”
“Want some water?”
“Yes, but don’t change the subject.”
Michael handed him a liter bottle. As Rodger drank, Michael told him the truth.
“Damn son of a . . .” Rodger broke into a new spate of coughing and nearly dropped the bottle.
Michael reached out to hold his hand steady. “Careful, man. That’s all we got.”
Rodger held it up above the water. “Sorry, I just can’t stop coughing.”
It was obvious now, the smoke had not been kind to his lungs.
Michael looked up at the lightning storm above them, resting his limbs as Rodger drank.
“We’re going to make it,” Michael said. “I promise you.”
“I trust you.”
“You ready?”
“Yeah,” Rodger said. “Let’s do it.”
He handed the bottle back, and Michael took a sip.
Rodger rolled onto his chest. He couldn’t see well without his glasses, but then, there wasn’t much to see.
After securing the water bottle, Michael kicked and started swimming. It was almost impossible to do a front crawl with the bulky life jacket, which made him even slower. And to make things worse, the salty waves continued to sting his eyes. He chided himself for not grabbing his work goggles before the mission.
For the rest of the morning, as the sun climbed the sky, they kept a rhythm of swim, rest, swim, rest, with a long pause for water. Michael kept charge of the bottles so Rodger wouldn’t notice how little Michael was drinking. Then, with the sun at its zenith, the wind shifted several degrees. The stroke of luck gave Michael reassurance when he needed it most. Even the current seemed to be cooperating.
Over the next three hours, they made it another five miles.
“Only thirty to go,” Michael called out.
“When will we be able to see the sun again?” Rodger asked.
Hell Divers Series | Book 8 | King of the Wastes Page 20