“His sister is serving under General Forge,” said one of the guards.
“So?” Charmer cut in. “That doesn’t give him a free pass.”
“This doesn’t concern you,” Michael said.
“Oh, but it does.” Charmer pushed up his feathered hat. “It concerns everyone.”
Michael straightened, realizing that this was his first decision as regent to the king. He couldn’t screw it up.
“Get him up,” Michael said.
The two guards hauled Raúl to his feet.
“We will make sure your mamá is taken care of,” Michael said. “However, as punishment for attempted theft of a battery, you will be transferred to work the sewers of your rig for the next year.”
Raúl stared at Michael, clearly astonished at a sentence that by all rights should have been much harsher.
“Gracias, jefe,” he murmured.
The guards hauled Raúl away, and Charmer watched them go.
“I would have taken a hand at the very least,” he said. “Nothing like losing a body part to keep you on the straight and narrow.”
That how you lost your eye? Michael wanted to ask. “Bloodshed is the last thing we need.”
Michael said to Charmer, “Remind me why you’re here and not at the trading post rig for the meeting.”
Charmer unslung a backpack. “This is Oliver, by the way. He works security for us.”
Oliver nodded, and Michael nodded back.
Charmer pulled a pad of paper from his pack. “Here is what we need to get our critical systems up and running after the storm.”
He glanced up at the wind turbines. “It would be nice to get one of those for our rig.”
Michael looked at the paper. “You can give that to Steve during the meeting, like everyone else.”
“But why would I do that when I can do this?” Charmer smiled and reached into his pack again, pulling out a second list. “These are things I can offer you in return.”
“Some might see that as a bribe.”
“No, of course not, Chief. I’m honestly hurt you’d think that.” He pushed the second list at Michael. “It’s a list of things I can provide to help you.”
“I’ve told you where to submit your list. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have work to do before our meeting.”
Charmer’s grin folded away, and he moved in front of Michael.
Ton and Victor stepped up behind Michael.
“Look, I appreciate you, mate, and what you did at the machine camp,” Charmer said. He wagged a finger. “But we’re here to look after our people and the rig that we are so grateful to have.”
“I won’t say it again,” Michael said. “Move your ass out of my way, or I will.”
Oliver stepped forward. Michael stopped him with a look. Ton and Victor just watched, silent, relaxed, ready.
Charmer flashed his grin and tipped his hat. “As you wish, Chief,” he said. “Cheers.”
As they left, Oliver gave Michael the most intimidating glare he could muster under the circumstances.
“I no like that guy,” Victor said.
“Makes two of us,” Michael replied. “I’ll be right back. Stay here for now.”
He went to the engineering control room. Pedro was inside, staring intently at the monitors.
“Chief,” he said, rising.
“Don’t get up,” Michael said. “I just need a quick update.”
Pedro sat back down and said, “I have two drones watching Vanguard fleet. I place them estrategicamente so we can get signal from fleet to the first drone, then second, and then back here.”
“Excellent.”
It was reassuring to have an open line of communication with X. He patted his friend on the back. They shared a bond now: a life for a life. Michael had saved Pedro in Rio, and Pedro had helped save Michael during the storm by locating Cricket.
He was smart, trustworthy, and a hell of a warrior.
Michael would never forget watching Pedro fight a Siren to the death with a metal cot leg back on the airship after they left Rio de Janeiro.
“Keep me updated,” Michael said. “I’m off to the trading post.”
It took Michael another hour to get there. He was dreading it, but he would be able to go home right after and see Layla and the kids.
By the time he arrived, a dozen boats were docked at the marina, and more were motoring, rowing, or paddling in.
Michael headed up to find Steve. The sun had set, and the moon was peeking through rain clouds, illuminating the crowd gathering on the deck.
Lieutenant Wynn stood with two guards in the front, as a reminder to keep calm.
Cazadores, sky people, and survivors from bunkers they had found in Rio, Tanzania, and other places—each group had its own set of requests or, in some cases, demands.
Michael scrutinized the faces. These were mostly people with technical or engineering experience, but there were also merchants, and some soldiers or muscle like Oliver, who stood next to Charmer.
Imulah was already jotting down notes. He joined Michael on the stage where X had spoken only last night. Now it was time for Michael to give a speech.
“Listen up, everyone.”
Imulah gave a running translation in Spanish.
“I asked to meet with you today to hear about issues on your rigs after the devastating hurricane,” Michael said. “To start, please submit your requests to my deputy, Steve Schwarzer. He will be the main point of contact for each rig.”
After Imulah translated, people submitted their lists to Steve.
“We must keep in mind that this recovery is a joint effort that we must all make together,” Michael continued. “From making repairs to rationing our food and power, we all play a role.”
Charmer and Oliver leaned together, speaking and shaking their heads. It wasn’t just them. Michael saw the same skeptical gaze on many faces. The lack of trust would be his biggest challenge, even from people he had helped save.
These people were survivors, and they all had instincts that kicked in when resources dwindled. And each of these groups dealt with crises differently. Some had resorted to cannibalism or slavery.
Lightning cleaved the horizon, and a light rain began to fall. The rifle crack of thunder reminded everyone why they were here—and that another storm could and would hit the islands.
Michael had to give them hope.
“King Xavier will arrive in Panama soon, and he will return with supplies and food,” Michael said. “I know this because, after two hundred and fifty years in the darkness, he led us to this place. He has never once let my people down, and he won’t let you down, either. He is a fair leader and a man of honor. We need to trust him.”
“We trust Captain Rolo!” shouted a voice. “He’s risking his neck again for humanity on a fool’s errand.”
Michael wasn’t surprised to see that it was Oliver.
A male Cazador yelled something in Spanish. More angry voices rang out with questions that Imulah translated as fast he could. The last one made Michael tense up.
“He asked what we will do if the mission in Panama fails to locate supplies, and what’s the second option?” said the scribe.
“Mind if I answer that?” Steve asked.
Michael beckoned him to the stage.
“This rig has stood for generations,” Steve said. “It’s survived two wars, the attack by the machines, and several hurricanes.”
He held his arms out. “Each time, it has survived, as we have, and each time we have rebuilt.”
The crowd finally seemed to calm, and Michael took a few more questions before bringing the meeting to a close.
“We must work together and sacrifice together,” Michael said. “Now, let’s get out there and rebuild.”
A single voice called
out—faint, but audible: “Actions will determine whether we can trust you.”
The voice was muffled by the departing crowd, and Michael didn’t see the speaker. He and Steve watched them all leave.
“Not too bad, I suppose,” Steve grunted.
“Could have been worse,” Michael replied. He glanced at the leaflets and paper Steve held. “This is going to be a massive joint project, and I’m hoping that between the two of us, we can come up with a way not only to repair the rigs but to make them stronger, to withstand future storms.”
“I like the way you think, partner, and I’m honored to be your deputy.”
“Good, let’s get some sleep. We start back up first thing in the morning.”
Ton and Victor accompanied Michael back to the capitol tower. During the ride, watching the rigs pass by, he felt something familiar to him as a father and husband: a deep, abiding sense of responsibility. Now he was responsible for more than his wife and son. He was responsible for everyone who lived on the Vanguard Islands, including the families of those lost in action, like his friend and former deputy, Alfred.
By the time he got home, it was midnight, and the thunderstorm had passed. Michael went straight to Bray’s room, where Layla sat in a chair facing the crib. The child was fast asleep on his back, with a stuffed dolphin toy tucked against his chest. Rhino Jr. was still awake, though, and looking up at Michael with curious eyes.
“Hey, big guy,” Michael whispered.
Layla got up and put a hand on his shoulder.
“They’re both growing so fast,” she said.
“I know, it’s an ongoing miracle!”
“I sure hope X knows what he’s doing.”
Michael eased the door shut. “He does, Layla. You need to trust him.”
“I do. It’s just . . . putting you in charge of the islands seemed . . .”
“What?”
“It makes me wonder if he’s grooming you for the throne.”
“No way,” Michael said. “And anyway, he can’t just hand it over.”
“What did he give you, by the way?”
He reached in his vest pocket, glad to be changing the subject.
“What is it?” Layla asked.
Michael slid back the lid, revealing a note wrapped around two keys.
He unfurled the note.
Dear Michael,
The first key is for if I don’t come back. It opens a door near the watery grave of our enemies. What you will find there is not for immediate use, no matter how bad things get. This is a backup plan if the Vanguard Islands become uninhabitable, as el Pulpo feared.
The second key will show you the way.
Everything that we do from here on out will determine our future. We can afford no mistakes. We must not fail to act. We must never forget.
Handle your present with confidence. Face your future without fear.
X
Michael folded the note and slipped it back into the box.
“What’s it say?” Layla asked.
“I think things are worse than we thought.”
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t know exactly, but tomorrow I’m going to find out.”
Twenty-Three
Kade pulled his cowboy hat over his eyes and rested his back against a supply crate in the launch bay. The soothing hum of the airship’s engines helped him relax.
Most of the other divers were already sleeping, or trying to despite the noise. Snores and snorts came from the area where Kade had last seen Gran Jefe sprawled on the deck.
“Kade,” said a youthful voice.
He tipped up his hat. The dim lightning was just enough to reveal Tia crouching beside him.
“Yeah?” he asked.
She sat beside him on the floor, fingering her turquoise necklace.
“There’s something I want to know about my dad,” she said.
Kade sat up straighter. “What do you want to know?”
“What happened the day he found this?”
The sight of the necklace brought back that day, flooding his mind with memories. Kade had never wanted Tia to know the truth when she was younger. There was no reason to explain in detail what had happened to her father on the surface. So he did what he always did: glossed it over.
“He died bravely,” Kade said.
“Yeah, you’ve said that. But how?”
Kade sighed. “Why do you want to know? After all these years, what good would it do?
“It would put my mind at rest.”
Edgar hollered across the launch bay, “All greenhorns, get your asses vertical and report to Commander Katib!”
Tia looked at Kade and then got up. She said, “I’m not a kid anymore, you know. You don’t have to protect me.”
Kade leaned back against the supply crate, listening to the rain and the hum of the engines. Thunder boomed, rattling the hull.
He pulled his hat back over his eyes and drifted off to sleep, reliving the nightmare from the day Tia lost her father.
Thirteen years ago . . .
“This some sort of expensive old-world store?” Johnny asked.
“No, it’s what they used to call a museum,” Kade said. “Place where they displayed art and stuff.”
“Captain Rolo sent us to find art?”
“No, mate, it’s not what’s inside this place. It’s what’s beneath it that we’re here for.”
Kade studied the cracked marble arch over the building’s entrance while they waited for their teammate and scout, Raphael, to check in on the comms.
After Kade, Raphael was the diver with the most experience on the surface, and he was ahead, checking out the building.
The east side had long since caved in, but the middle and west sides were still structurally sound—probably thanks to the thick stone facade.
Kade loved architecture like this and was excited to find part of a city in the green zone that was mostly intact. Much of it had been raided during the aftermath of the war, however, before the humans on the surface succumbed to the radiation that was now almost nonexistent.
The team comm crackled.
“All clear, but you fellas better have a look at somethin’ up here,” Raphael said in his thick accent.
Kade motioned for Johnny to follow him through the open doors. They walked through the lobby and past a desk with a broken lamp, crossing into a vast room with stairways to other levels.
Glass shards of display cases littered the floor.
Raphael waved from the second-story balcony.
Kade cradled his assault rifle and walked through the room, past the broken cases. Most contained statues and shards of pottery. A sundial monument still stood in the center of the room, unprotected by any glass.
“That some sort of clock?” Johnny asked.
“I don’t think so,” Kade replied.
He stopped to dust off a display placard.
“The Hall of Mexico and Central America,” he read. “Must be about the cultures that lived there thousands of years ago.”
“Wonder if Raph’s related to any of them.”
Kade looked at Johnny, snorting. “Raph’s a Maori, you wanker.”
“So?”
“Maoris were from New Zealand—halfway across the world from Central America.”
“I will note that up here.” Johnny tapped his helmet. “Thanks for the geography lesson.”
They pushed up the stairs to a hallway with jewelry hanging in glass cabinets. Kade focused on the floor, searching for tracks. But the carpet of glass, dust, and debris lay undisturbed but for the tracks Raphael had left behind.
He waited at the end of the passage with his crossbow cradled across his armor. Leather tassels strung with beads hung from his chest armor, and his helmet bore
the black tribal markings of his Maori warrior ancestors.
He continued the traditions of those warriors with the way he hunted on the surface, which made him the best scout on the airship. Kade had learned a lot from him over the years.
Raphael waved them forward into a long passage, then stopped at a cabinet.
“What?” Kade asked.
Reaching inside, Raphael pulled out a turquoise necklace.
“Tia will love this,” he said.
After safely tucking it into his vest, he kept moving with his crossbow shouldered.
Kade was cautious not to crunch any glass shards or bump anything. This was a green zone, and Raphael wouldn’t be the only hunter.
When they got to the next hall, Raphael stopped at a rail overlooking a display of massive bones. Some were still connected, including the spiked skull of some ancient beast.
“What the bloody hell is that ugly bastard?” Johnny asked.
“A dinosaur,” Kade said. “They used to roam the earth millions of years ago.”
“Bullshit, man. This has got to be fake.”
Kade checked the metal placard. Hall of Saurischian Dinosaurs.
Remarkable, certainly, but it wasn’t what they were here for. Kade turned and saw why Raphael had brought them here.
Hanging from a ceiling joist was part of another skeleton, this one a human. The skull and part of the spine were all that remained, the rest of the bones having long since fallen to the floor, where they lay in an undisturbed pile.
“Looks old,” Raphael said.
“Aye, says here these are millions of years old,” Johnny said.
“Not the dinosaurs,” Kade said. “Him.”
He pointed his assault rifle barrel toward the remains.
“Oh, damn,” Johnny said.
“Whoever hung him is long gone,” Kade said. “Let’s keep moving.”
Raphael nodded and took point. They passed through the chamber of dinosaurs, marveling at the gargantuan bones.
It was hard to imagine these creatures walking about on earth, but Kade had read about them in school when he was a boy. Seeing their remains brought out his inner kid.
His sons would love this place.
Raphael stopped at the passage connecting to the next main corridor.
Hell Divers Series | Book 8 | King of the Wastes Page 31