Hell Divers Series | Book 8 | King of the Wastes

by Smith, Nicholas Sansbury

  “But I fear that my father, like many of my own comrades, won’t forfeit the lives of his family for the benefit of the Metal Islands. And if he fails to act, I will.”

  Between the lines, Horn had advocated murdering and eating their own. And if X didn’t act, it could still happen.

  He pushed the log aside to examine the map of the Panama Canal. The Hell Divers had returned with intel describing a radioactive terrain dominated by monsters. But they also brought back video of a canal that would give them access to the western coast of South America, for a new supply chain that could save the Vanguard Islands. It would risk many lives, but if X didn’t act, all the lives at the islands were at risk.

  But there was another option.

  He rolled out the two maps that Pedro had provided a year ago. They showed the locations of the two weather modification devices: one in Antarctica, and the other on the north polar ice cap.

  It would be a huge risk, traveling halfway across the globe to reprogram the weather-mod devices. But if they could restore the climate, they would have infinite places to plant crops.

  X doubted there was time. Even if they could find a way to activate the machines, no one knew how long they would take to work. Years? Decades? Longer?

  The option seemed less plausible by the day.

  The door to the chamber opened, and Slayer stepped inside. He had bandages on both hands, and a clear gel on his facial burns, but he had insisted on coming back to work.

  “We’re ready for you, sir,” Slayer said.

  “How’s your brother?” X asked.

  “Manny’s going to make it, gracias.”

  “Good. He’s strong, like his older brother.”

  X blew out the candle, returning the room and its secrets to darkness. Using the key on a chain around his neck, X locked the study hatch and followed the Barracuda warrior down the stairs.

  They went to the cells below, where X had visited Ada over a year ago. He thought of Rhino. It was here the general had asked X to kill Ada.

  “Stay here, Miles,” X said.

  The dog settled down on his side for another nap.

  Slayer hung back as X entered.

  Lieutenant Wynn stood guard with Ton and Victor outside the cells. Magnolia was also there, holding a transmitter. Bromista, the Barracudas’ second-in-command, hung back in the shadows, holding a crossbow. He gave a subtle nod to Slayer.

  In the third cell, the young man of Asian descent sat on the bed, hugging his knees. His straight black hair hung lank to his shoulders. The dark eyes narrowed at X.

  X nodded to Magnolia, she pushed the button, and Timothy emerged, spreading his blue glow over the brig.

  “Greetings, King Xavier,” said Timothy.

  “Pepper, I want you to translate,” X said.

  “Of course, sir.”

  X stepped up to the cell and looked in at the young man, who appeared to be in his early teens. It was hard to believe he had survived on his own out there.

  “Tell him who I am and tell him we want to know everything he knows about the canal,” X said. “Or anything he wants to tell us about where he came from.”

  Timothy spoke to Yejun, who responded quickly.

  “He says it’s an honor to meet you, and he will do as you wish, if only you promise one thing.”

  “What’s that?” X asked.

  Timothy turned slightly to look at X.

  “He wants you to take him home, King Xavier . . . to the ship where he was found,” Timothy clarified.

  “He said the same thing to me,” Magnolia said. “He wants to go back to the canal.”

  “Okay. Tell him I promise I will take him back there, but I want to know why he was there in the first place, and where he came from.”

  This time, Yejun spoke longer.

  “He says his family lived in an underground city in North Korea, built during the war with South Korea centuries ago,” Timothy explained. “But when that war ended, the city was forgotten about until World War Three. It was during those days that his ancestors went there for refuge.”

  X listened, interested. He often wondered if there were cities out there like the one this kid spoke of. More importantly, he wondered if some still existed. It quickly became apparent that many of them might have suffered the same fate as this one.

  “Over the years, their underground gardens failed, and disease killed off many of the survivors. When people turned on one another over the existing supplies, his family left with others on a ship, which they took to search for a new home—a place they could be safe. They searched for years, along the African coast, then crossing the Atlantic to the shores of North America, where they discovered an abandoned settlement not far from the ruins of a city he doesn’t quite remember.”

  Timothy looked to Yejun, who seemed to be trying to find the right words.

  “New something,” Timothy said. “Maybe New Orleans?”

  The AI kept listening, then added, “Yejun says they found maps there of multiple safe havens in South America and the Pacific Ocean. They were en route there when the ship had engine failure and became stuck at the south end of the Panama Canal. Monsters attacked them.”

  Yejun stepped closer to the bars, speaking faster.

  “He says our people stole him and now he can’t finish his mission,” Timothy said.

  X’s first instinct was to mention that the kid started it when he captured two of X’s best divers, but he kept it friendly. He wanted to know more about this mission.

  “Tell him I’m sorry,” X said. “We want to help, and we will let him go as soon as he accepts our offer of friendship.”

  X wasn’t just going to let the kid loose, but he wouldn’t keep him in a cell, either. The longer he did, the more unsympathetic he looked to Yejun.

  Another flashback entered his mind, this time of his first days as a prisoner in the Metal Islands. It had taken him a lot to trust the Cazadores after that, and some of them he still didn’t trust.

  X turned to Lieutenant Wynn. “Give me the key,” he said.

  “But, King Xavier . . . We don’t know if he is—”

  “Key, Lieutenant.”

  Wynn fished out the key ring and handed it to X.

  “Now go topside and make sure no one’s around,” X said.

  “Sir, with all due—”

  “Lieutenant, are you having trouble hearing me today?”

  Wynn backed away, hurrying past Ton and Victor.

  X inserted the key in the door and unlocked it. Yejun stepped away from the bars and retreated to his bed.

  X held up his hand. “It’s okay,” he said quietly. “Timothy, tell him I’m not going to hurt him.”

  Timothy translated, but Yejun still cowered in the back of the cell. How had this kid survived so long in the wastes by himself? Then again, how had X?

  X reached in his pocket and took out a watch he had found on a dive. He handed it to the kid. “As an offer of friendship.”

  Hesitantly, the kid reached out and took the watch. He seemed to know what it was and nodded at X.

  “Come on,” X said. He stepped aside and motioned for Yejun to come out into the hallway.

  “You sure?” Magnolia asked. “He’s a tricky little shit—did a number on me and Edgar.”

  “And yet, you’re alive, right?”

  She shrugged. “Yeah.”

  “We need to know what he knows, and this is the only way.”

  “You’re the king.”

  “Wynn, you and Slayer clear the rooftop,” X said.

  “Okay, sir,” the lieutenant replied, and hurried away.

  Yejun followed them out of the cell and into the stairwell. They climbed to the top of the tower, where X awaited Wynn’s confirmation that the roof was indeed clear.

  After ge
tting the all clear, X opened the hatch and motioned for Yejun to follow him. They stepped outside to exactly what X had hoped for: a gorgeous sunset. The horizon was ablaze with hues of blood orange and ripe grapes, the last glint of sun rimming the distant clouds in platinum fire.

  Yejun stared in awe at the impossible beauty of it all.

  Ton, Victor, Slayer, and Wynn fanned out, setting up a perimeter so he couldn’t escape. Bromista also watched, keeping behind the trees with his trusty crossbow.

  But Yejun was too busy gawking to present a flight risk. Evidence of destruction was all around, but the beauty overshadowed it. Yejun was spellbound.

  Slowly, he went down on one knee and picked up the dirt, letting it filter through his hands. He looked at X and spoke a torrent of words while Timothy translated.

  “He said it reminds him of the place his family was looking for.”

  “Maybe they were looking for the islands,” Magnolia said.

  “No,” Timothy said. “He claims there is a place like this with dirt and green trees, but without the real sun.”

  Yejun walked over to the railing and pointed at the water.

  “What’s he saying?” X asked.

  “He’s saying they were on the way to another underground city,” Timothy said. “Or . . . I think he is saying an underwater city.”

  X walked closer, recalling the Cazador story about the man in Colón, Panama, who called the Coral Castle an underwater city.

  “Where is this city?” X asked.

  Timothy asked, and Yejun shook his head.

  “He says he doesn’t know. He only knows how his parents described what it would be like.”

  “His dead parents,” X said, cursing.

  Yejun spoke again, and Timothy smiled.

  “He says the locations of these places are recorded on the ship he was taken from, and that if you return him, he will help you find it with maps he hid there.”

  X scrutinized the kid’s face for a lie. But why would he lie? And even more importantly, why would he want to leave paradise for hell?

  Unless he knew there was a better paradise.

  In his gut, X felt the kid was telling the truth.

  “This map on your ship,” X said. “We’re going with you to get it. But, son, I highly recommend you come back with us.”

  Yejun shook his head when Timothy translated.

  “Ask him why he wants to stay there and what his mission is,” X said.

  Timothy spoke again, listened, then looked at X. “He thinks his family might still be alive and he needs to help them.”

  X sighed. He stepped up closer to Yejun. “I spent a decade on the surface, kid. In hell, like you. Your family is gone, and they would want you to move on.”

  This time when Timothy translated, Yejun grew more agitated.

  Timothy seemed unsure again.

  “What?” X asked.

  “I think he’s saying he has seen his family, but they changed,” Timothy said. “I’m not quite sure, King Xavier.”

  “Tell him to take a few minutes, get some air. There’s plenty of time for questions later.”

  Yejun walked away to explore the roof with his following of soldiers and guards. Magnolia stepped up by X to watch.

  “Well?” she said.

  “Well, the kid is completely nuts—a shame, but not surprising. On the bright side, if these maps are real, we might have more than two options after all. Expand into Panama, go to the weather modification sites, or search for this underwater kingdom that might not be a myth.”

  “None of those options are good, but I like the last one least,” Magnolia replied.

  “Lieutenant, find this young lad quarters and give him some good food,” X said. “Post a guard outside his door, but don’t scare him.”

  “Yes, sir,” Wynn said.

  Miles followed X through the gardens with Magnolia. A team of horticulturists had already pruned the trees and watered or replanted what crops had survived the storm. Soon, they would plant new seeds to replace those lost in the wind.

  Voices called out as they headed back toward the rooftop. It was Michael and Layla, with Bray in a pack on Michael’s chest.

  X had spent only a few minutes with Michael when they found him hours ago, and seeing him now brought back the wave of relief.

  Jogging over, X hugged Michael, prompting laughter from Bray.

  “Careful,” Layla said. “He’s not yet mended all the way.”

  “Sorry,” X said, pulling back. He hugged Layla next. “I told you we’d find him,” he said.

  Layla hugged X back. “Thank you,” she whispered. “For everything.”

  They all turned to the water as the ocean swallowed the sun. The water darkened. Soon, it would be time to head back to that darkness.

  “At midnight, meet me on Raven’s Claw,” X said. “We have a new mission, and, Michael, I’m going to need you back in the saddle.”

  “But Michael just came home,” Layla said.

  “Don’t worry, kiddo,” X said. “I won’t ever let anything happen to Tin.”

  Sixteen

  Tammy stood in the open doorway of the small apartment she had shared with Alfred. In the background, Leonard stood in his crib, sobbing and reaching for his mother—and perhaps his father, too, whom he would never touch again.

  “I’m so sorry,” Michael said. “Your husband was a good . . . a great man, and he did what he did for you and everyone else on the islands.”

  Tammy’s eyes were swollen from crying.

  “Did he suffer?” she asked.

  “Not long, no. The sea took him quickly.”

  She looked down, then back up.

  “I tried to save him, but . . .” Michael’s words trailed off, replaced by the image of Alfred, falling . . .

  “I know you did all you could.” She let out a long, juddering sigh. “He respected you more than anyone else in this world. You were his good friend.”

  Michael bit down on his quivering lip.

  “I’ll miss him greatly,” he said. “If there is anything Layla and I can do, please let me know.”

  “Thank you.”

  Tammy hugged him. He had thought it would bring relief when she didn’t blame him. Instead, he just felt guiltier. Especially when he returned to his apartment.

  He opened the door to find Layla in front of the window overlooking the ocean. She held Bray in the moonlight.

  “How’s Tammy?” she asked.

  “About as good as can be expected.”

  Layla shook her head. “My heart breaks for her and Leonard. But, Michael, that could be Bray and me.”

  “I’m lucky to be alive. I know that,” he said. “But I couldn’t leave Rodger or let the ship explode.”

  He slouched down in a tattered chair.

  “I’m sorry,” Layla said. “I’m sorry. I know Alfred was your friend, and you did everything you could to help him.”

  “We have to do something for Tammy and Leonard.”

  “I know. I’ll bring them some food first thing tomorrow. It’s a start.”

  She handed Bray down to Michael. He took the child in his arms, looking down into brown eyes that searched his.

  Holding his son eased some of the hurt, but as with all the other losses Michael had dealt with in his young life, a piece lingered.

  “I love you, little man.”

  Bray smiled and reached up to grab Michael’s long hair.

  “Even he wants you to cut that,” Layla said.

  “Yeah, yeah,” Michael said.

  Having a baby had changed his life. Nothing was more precious than Bray and Layla. Everything he did now was for them.

  “So are you going to tell me where you’re going tonight?” Layla asked. “Because X doesn’t send you out o
n a mission into the darkness for no reason—especially after you almost died.”

  Michael frowned. She was right, but he didn’t know where he was going.

  “I don’t know,” he said.

  “You don’t know,” she huffed.

  “I swear, I don’t.”

  Bray stirred in his arms, features tightening as they always did before he cried.

  Michael rocked the child. “It’s okay,” he soothed.

  Layla put her hand on his arm. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to get worked up.”

  “Don’t be,” he said, “I understand. But I swear, I don’t know where X is taking me tonight.”

  He looked at his watch, then handed Bray back. It was almost time to leave.

  “I’m sure this won’t take long,” he said. “Try not to worry, my love.”

  “Easy for you to say.”

  He kissed her lips, then kissed Bray’s head.

  “Soon he’ll be walking,” Layla said.

  “An ankle biter, as X likes to say.” Michael chuckled.

  Layla didn’t laugh, her mind clearly still dwelling on the mission.

  “We’ll be okay,” he said. “I promise.”

  An hour later, Michael was in the command center of the warship Raven’s Claw with a small group that included General Forge, Sergeant Slayer, Lieutenant Wynn, Steve Schwarzer, Pedro, Rodger, Magnolia, X, Ton, Victor, and, of course, Miles.

  They cruised past the damaged rigs. Michael got updates on engineering issues and was anxious to get back to work, but apparently, there was something more important right now taking him away from the rigs.

  Rain pattered against the viewports, and lightning speared the horizon as they left the sunshine of the islands and broke through the barrier into darkness. The ship pushed on as lightning split the sky over the bow.

  X still hadn’t told them where they were going, but Michael guessed what they were looking for long before he saw the long hull of the ITC Ranger emerge through a wall of mist in the darkness surrounding a small island.

  “You didn’t scuttle it,” Magnolia said.

  X shook his head. “I had it moved here just in case we need it someday.” He faced them all. “Today is that day, amigos.”