The Immortal was anchored about a quarter mile out. During the night, Captain Rolo had lowered the airship Vanguard onto the deck. It rested there now, secured for the journey.
When the drones reported bad storms for much of the journey, X had decided it would be safer by sea than by air.
Three other vessels were docked at the marina. Two—Raven’s Claw and the Ocean Bull—were warships. And the research ship Octopus was practically a warship now, bristling with barbed wire and flamethrowers and retrofitted with .50-caliber deck guns. Crew members bustled about, loading up the final supplies and preparing the weapons mounted to the rails.
The dock was crowded with family members of those departing. Many were still hungover from last night’s festivities.
X spotted Layla holding Bray and pointing at the airship Vanguard, explaining to the boy that it was once home for her people. Never mind that the boy could neither talk nor understand her.
A technician in a yellow suit rode a cable rider up the port side of the Immortal, stopping at the patchworked section of hull that had blown out days earlier when Timothy set off the charges.
Patching it up had necessitated scrapping a small container ship, but the engineers and techs had worked night and day to get her ready for the maiden voyage to Panama.
X walked over to Layla with Miles, whose tail came alive when he saw her.
“Mornin’,” X said to Layla. “How you guys doing?”
She smiled and reached down to scratch Miles behind the ears.
“And how’s the little ankle biter?” X said. He chuckled and patted Bray on the head, mussing his curly hair.
“He’s not a dog,” Layla said.
“Right. Sorry,” X replied.
“Or an ankle biter.” Layla raised a brow. “I thought you had experience with kids. Didn’t you take care of Michael for a few weeks after . . .”
“Yeah, I did, and I think I did okay.”
“You did great,” said a third voice.
Michael walked over, a grin on his grease-streaked face. Reaching into his pocket, he fished out a small handheld computer.
“Here,” he said. “I want you to have this.”
X took the device, recognizing at once that it was Cricket 2.0.
“I can’t,” X said.
“Where you’re going, you’ll need him more than I will.”
X hesitated, then decided that it would be rude to decline the gift. And besides, Michael was right—the scanner would come in handy.
“Thanks, Chief Engineer Everhart.”
X felt for something as he pocketed the computer, and his hand came out with a small wooden box. “Open this later,” he said. At the sound of voices, he looked over his shoulder. “Just in time.”
Ton, Victor, Steve, and Pedro came their way.
“I got you something else,” X said. “Meet your new best friends.”
“What?” Michael asked.
“Ton and Victor are going to watch your back while I’m gone, as will Lieutenant Wynn. And Steve is going to be your fixer.”
“Whatever you need, boss,” Steve said with a salute.
“I do need a deputy chief engineer, if you’re interested,” Michael said.
“It would be an honor, sir.”
He reached out, and they sealed the deal with an old-world handshake.
“Your first job is to call a meeting with all the rig leaders,” Michael said. “At the trading post rig, where they will hand over their requests for parts. King Xavier has our main list, but this is for smaller items and routine maintenance that has been neglected in the past. Together, you and I will bring energy efficiency to the islands with wind and solar power, and we will maintain the rigs better than anyone before us has done.”
“And that’s why I put you in charge,” X said.
“I still wish you were staying.”
“I know,” X said, “but Pedro here is going to keep monitoring the storms, and he will make sure we have an open line of communication through our drones.”
Pedro nodded.
“Good,” Michael said.
“Thank you,” Layla said.
X smiled at her. He knew that she was nervous about the responsibility he had delegated to her husband. He hadn’t done it lightly. There were still threats here, and things were going to get worse before they got better—especially when the food started running out.
“So who’s going to watch your back out there?” Michael asked.
X chuckled and pointed with his chin toward the ships.
“I’m bringing an entire army with me, Tin—er, Michael. And thanks to Steve, I got myself a fancy arm like you.”
“Pretty awesome axe he forged for you, too.”
X looked down. “I’m not sure if I should frame it on my wall or crack a skull with it. Maybe I’ll be lucky enough to do both.”
A horn blared as the Immortal weighed anchor and Captain Two Skulls prepared to depart.
Timothy’s voice came over X’s headset. “King Xavier, the Immortal is ready to sail when you are.”
“I’m on my way, Pepper,” X said.
X embraced his adopted family—or the family that had adopted him, rather—in turn. Layla teared up; Michael remained stoic.
“Be careful out there,” Layla said.
“Take care of him, Miles,” Michael added.
“He always does,” X said. “Ton, Victor, I’m counting on you two—and you as well, Steve.”
“We won’t let anything happen to Mr. Michael or his family,” Victor said. He pounded his chest, and Ton did as well while grunting something indecipherable.
“Thanks, fellas,” X said.
He was going to miss his twin shadows, but he had plenty of help where he was going. He would sleep better just knowing they were here with Michael and his family.
Picking up his bag, he walked with his dog toward a boat that took him to the Immortal. They took a ladder to the weather deck, where Captain Two Skulls and General Forge stood with two teams of soldiers and crew members, all standing stiffly as X approached with Miles.
Imulah was here, too, holding his leather-bound book, prepared to document everything along their journey. X thought about something pithy to say and went with the first thing that came to mind.
“Let’s ride!” he shouted.
All across the islands, people stood on the balconies, watching as the fleet of warships carved through the ocean. There were no fireworks or waved goodbyes this morning. Only the sad eyes of those watching their loved ones depart on one of the most important and dangerous missions yet.
X stayed on the deck until the capitol tower was just a dot on the horizon. His heart hurt as his most beloved friends and family parted ways once again to improve humanity’s odds for survival.
About a half hour into the journey, before they even crossed the barrier between light and dark, it began to rain. Perhaps not the most auspicious beginning.
X watched the ship approach the barrier; then he and Miles headed to their quarters. The room was furnished with a desk, bookshelf, head with a toilet and sink, and a decent-size bed—spare but clean.
“This is home for a while, boy,” X said. “What do you think?”
Miles jumped up on the bunk and curled up. X put his bag down and leaned to kiss the dog on the snout.
“Go ahead and sleep,” he said. “I’ll be back in a while.”
As soon as X turned, Miles jumped off the bed, whining. He apparently wasn’t interested in sleeping, after all.
“Okay, let’s go,” X said.
In the corridor, they passed the skeleton crew of mostly Cazador sailors assigned to the vessel. From what Imulah had said, there were 150 crew—far from the thousands who once served on this ship before the defectors.
But w
ith Timothy at the helm, they would make it work. He could do everything the former human crew did, and despite his being an AI, X trusted him. He had proved himself time after time.
The AI was waiting in the ship’s CIC, his hologram illuminating the advanced stations and monitors manned by trained officers.
“Greetings, King Xavier,” said Timothy.
The hologram walked with X to the viewports, which had a panoramic view of the ocean.
Flashes of blue shimmered along the horizon, casting a glow over the Ocean Bull on the starboard side of the carrier. The whale-shaped head on the bow protruded just above the waterline, appearing almost like a whale surfacing for air.
“How’s she handle?” X asked, turning back to Timothy.
“She’s fast, King Xavier—too fast for our other ships to keep up.”
“No sign of Tyron, right?”
“He’s gone forever, sir, don’t worry.”
X nodded, but he still worried that Timothy had missed something, that somehow Tyron would be back.
Hours into the journey, X left the command center with Miles. He hated dealing with the operational shit and would much rather spend time with the crew.
“Race ya,” X said to Miles in the first passage.
The dog looked up, tail wagging.
X bent down as he always did before a race. Miles’s tail beat the air. He knew exactly what this meant.
“Go!” X said.
The dog bolted ahead, and X ran after him toward the end of the empty passageway. Miles wasn’t as fast as he once was, but he easily ghosted X around the corner.
By the time X got there, he was winded and the dog was already nearing the end of the next passageway, where a crew member had backed against a hull, terrified.
“He’s harmless,” X said to the young woman.
She nodded but remained with her back to the bulkhead.
X whistled, and Miles came back to him. They took a ladder down to the cargo bay, which was bustling with activity.
A neat row of armored personnel carriers and supply trucks sat idle in front of the two large tanks armed with long cannons and a mounted machine gun. The lightly armored hulls were shaped like bricks, built to support a small crew up in the cockpit and hold troops in the back.
X crossed the chamber, watching the warriors and technicians working. Some were taking inventory of supplies; others were working on the vehicles. And a few were trying to look busy while awaiting orders.
Slayer and Bromista were here with the rest of the Barracudas, sparring and exercising in the large space.
X stopped by to say hello.
“Going to join us?” Slayer asked.
“Maybe later.”
Bromista raised his fists like a boxer.
“I show you how to beat Gran Jefe,” he said.
The other men laughed, and X grinned. “I’ll take you up on that soon,” he said. “We got a long journey ahead.”
As Bromista pounded his chest in respect, X went up to the flight deck with Miles. They took a ramp up into the airship Vanguard. Some were swapping stories and playing cards, but others, like Kade, were keeping their own company. He had his back to a crate, softly playing his guitar.
Edgar was cleaning his rifle, chewing on an herb-infused calorie stick. Magnolia was going over a map with Ada.
Arlo’s nasal voice broke the silence. “King Xavier on deck!”
The divers scrambled to their feet.
“At ease,” X said.
He walked over to Magnolia.
“What brings you here, sir?” she asked.
“Aw, I just miss this place,” he said.
Gran Jefe grinned when X looked at him. A sharpened tooth was missing from his serrate smile. He pounded his chest in respect, and X nodded.
“That’s new,” X said. He stared across the room at a new banner hanging from the hull. The new team logo said Wrangler and featured a mounted cowboy holding a lariat.
“Fitting,” he said.
“Sure is,” Magnolia said. “We had it commissioned from Shelly, and she worked overtime to get it done.”
“For the record, not my idea,” Kade said.
“Looks just like you,” Arlo said.
“I like it,” X said. “Good to have a fresh team and new blood.”
He decided to spend the morning with the divers, and by noon he was missing his diving days even more. Pulling up empty supply crates for chairs, they took a break from training for a quick bite.
“King Xavier, maybe you can tell us some more stories about the wastes,” Arlo said. “How about it?”
Tia sliced off a wedge of apple and popped it into her mouth, waiting for X to scare the hell out of her.
“Maybe he doesn’t want to talk about it,” Magnolia said.
X rubbed Miles on the head. “If the dog could talk, he would tell you all about the dicey moments we found ourselves in.”
“Like?”
“Well, there was the time we were walking on a land bridge that collapsed, and he fell into a swamp with snakes thicker than you and longer than the Octopus Lord’s tentacles.” X shrugged. “Barely made it out of that one. I also came pretty close with some camouflaged stone beasts in the desert.”
“Stone . . . beasts?” said Tia.
“Yeah, and then there were the Sirens that had us surrounded in Florida.”
By the time X finished, Tia had stopped slicing her apple and was staring at him as if in a trance.
“How about you, Kade?” X asked. “Got any stories you want to share?”
“Yeah, tell us how you got your name,” Arlo said.
Kade scratched the side of his face. He looked down to his boots, perhaps recalling a painful memory.
“He won’t even tell me what happened to my dad,” Tia said.
Kade looked at her ruefully.
“It’s okay, maybe some other time,” X said.
A voice surged into his headset, providing a welcome distraction.
“Hold up, got a transmission,” he said.
X got off a crate and turned his back, holding up a hand to his ear.
“Go ahead, over,” he said.
“King Xavier, this is Timothy, please return to the bridge,” came the reply.
“Somethin’ wrong, Pepper?”
“Potentially, sir.”
“What?”
“We have something on radar.”
“What do you mean, we have ‘something on radar’?” X asked. “Another ship?”
“I don’t think so, but whatever it is, it’s big.”
“I’ll be right there.”
X and Miles went the short way, but it still took ten minutes to reach the command center. Timothy greeted him at the entrance and followed him over to the stations.
“Talk to me,” X said. “I want a sitrep.”
An officer looked up from her green monitor. “I’m getting pings on sonar now, too.”
X studied the monitors while the team tried to figure out what was trailing them.
Something was definitely out there, and it was big. He got a tingly feeling in his gut—the same feeling he got when he was being hunted.
Whatever was out there was closing fast.
He went to the viewports and looked out over the dark ocean.
They were being hunted.
* * * * *
Michael reached in his vest pocket and took out the small oblong box that X had given him this morning. He still hadn’t opened it, but he would once he was done for the day.
That could be a while. He had to stop at the Wind Talker rig, then head to the trading post to meet with the leaders of the various rigs.
Rain clouds hung in the distance, but they seemed to be moving past the islands. A bright s
un reflected off debris still floating around the farm rig.
Steering the Sea Wolf around the rig, Michael recalled the days after the war with the Cazadores. Once again these islands looked as if they had been hit by war. And just as they had then, the people who lived here were showing their resilience. On every deck, people worked with the materials they had to rebuild their homes and salvage whatever they could.
He was determined to help them, regardless of past enmities.
On the horizon, he saw the Wind Talker rig. Even from this distance, he could see the construction on the towering turbines. Two crane operators were removing the bent and damaged blades from turbine 3, leaving it as bare as a coco palm after a hurricane. Another team was working on deck 4, cannibalizing salvageable blades, while a third crew was working the other crane, mounting an undamaged blade on turbine 4.
Only turbine 5 was operational. With every revolution, it added more juice to the batteries that would then be sent out to power critical systems on the rigs. But it wasn’t nearly enough, even with deck 2’s field of solar panels.
Michael eased the Sea Wolf up to the dock. Ton and Victor hopped off. It was hard to know what they thought about their new assignment, but so far they seemed to be okay with protecting Michael. Most importantly, they were taking the job seriously.
They went to the rig’s top deck, where Michael was surprised to see Charmer, standing with a burly man Michael had seen only a few times. Someone was raising a ruckus on the center of the deck.
Two militia soldiers were wrestling with a worker who clutched one of the smaller batteries.
“What the hell is going on?” Michael asked, walking over.
“We caught him trying to steal a battery,” said one of the guards.
Michael recognized the tech right away. It was Raúl, an electrician and the brother of a Cazador soldier named Junita.
“Is this true?” Michael asked.
Raúl squirmed under the two guards.
Crouching in front of him, Michael said, “Calm down.”
“My rig has no power,” Raúl said, “and mi mamá needs the battery to power her dialysis machine. I’m sorry, Chief. Lo siento.”
Hell Divers Series | Book 8 | King of the Wastes Page 30