Hell divers x fallout, p.21
Hell Divers X: Fallout, page 21
“You a brave warrior, but some think you are . . .” Gran Jefe paused. “How do you say maldito . . .? Cursed, I think.” The husky warrior shrugged his shoulder plates. “No sé. I no know if you are cursed or if you are inmortal.”
“If you’re going to kill me, you’re going to have to work for it,” X said, thumbing off the leather loop that secured his hatchet.
The six Cazador soldiers formed a wall behind X in the wide corridor, spears leveled at his back while Gran Jefe stood in front of him. A memory surfaced in his mind: when an ambush by Cazador soldiers loyal to el Pulpo had left Rhino dead.
He had given his life for X, just like so many others.
And now X was going to die like Rhino, struck down by the blades of betrayers.
Holding his hatchet, he mentally fell into battle mode.
From the other side of the hatch, deep within the lower deck, came a percussive clicking noise. The sound echoed over and over.
Gran Jefe walked around X, giving him a wide berth as he joined the other soldiers.
“Don’t turn your back to me, you big ox!” X said. “Kill me yourself if you think you can.”
“You failed us,” Nicolas said. “We’ve lost so many of our brothers and sisters, and now we have no food.”
“We will make do,” X said. “We will survive.”
He knew that his words meant nothing now. That these men had made their decision. In seconds, they would cut him down right here, leaving him to bleed out and fight for his last breaths.
“There is one way to prove that,” Gran Jefe said. He turned with his spear, then tossed it in the air to X.
X dropped his cutlass and caught the spear.
“Prove you are the Immortal and not the Cursed One,” Gran Jefe said. “You kill the bug, we follow you. You die, we follow me.”
The other soldiers kept their spears up, blocking the only way out of the passage. Behind X, a loud, rhythmic clicking erupted from the depths of the orlop deck.
A message from Forge came over the comm, asking for an update.
X could have told the general the truth: that he was being forced to fight and could be going to his death. But that would only make things worse.
And anyway, X didn’t plan on dying.
He rested the spear against the hull before picking up his cutlass and sheathing it. Then he unlocked the hatch. Turning on his helmet lights, X headed down the stairwell, spear in hand.
“Good luck, King Xavier,” Gran Jefe said.
X closed the hatch, then jammed his tac knife into the locking mechanism to prevent any and all from coming to help him.
To regain the warriors’ respect, he must do what he had done for a decade on the surface. He would go it alone.
* * * * *
Two guards came for Michael at dawn. Steve was already awake, sitting up in his bunk.
“Stay calm today, Chief,” he said. “Don’t let Charmer bait you.”
But as the guards led Michael away, Steve seemed to have a hard time following his own advice. Grabbing the cell bars, he yelled, “You’re making a mistake, dickheads!”
Michael followed the two guards to the airship’s cargo hold, where again he was lowered to the same pot-fishing boat. An open purple tent had been erected on the afterdeck, hiding it from view.
When his boots touched down, Michael saw a dozen metal chairs set up in front of a large wooden armchair. This would be the courtroom.
His eyes went to the pots and then the rail where Eevi had been sunk in the ocean and drowned. It was hard to keep his composure when all he wanted to do was kill those responsible. Most of them were standing on this very deck.
Jamal walked over to Michael. Two more soldiers joined him, including the long-bearded man with the throwing knives.
They took him to the same storage area where they had held Eevi. Jamal lifted the grate and nodded toward a ladder.
“No,” called a voice. “He waits up here.”
Charmer stepped out of the two-story cabin and smiled down at Michael.
“We are civilized, after all. Right, Mr. Everhart?” Charmer asked.
Michael clenched his jaw.
“Have a seat. It’s going to be a little while,” Charmer said, pointing at two crates stacked on the deck.
Michael remained standing, facing the rail where they’d thrown Eevi overboard. His muscles tensed with rage.
Charmer wasn’t keeping him up here out of any humane motive; he wanted Michael up here to look at the place Eevi had died, so that he might ponder his own fate.
Instead, Michael subtly scanned the boat for a way to escape. If this was where his trial was going to be held, then he needed to plan.
The lobster boat was a hundred feet long, and the aft weather deck was only a few feet above the water. Two Cazadores stood guard between him and the pots stacked in the stern.
The two-level enclosed cabin overlooked both stern and bow. Michael looked down at his bound hand and prosthetic arm. Even if he could break his bonds, what then? He would have to take out multiple guards and then swim to a rig without being caught. And there wasn’t a rig in sight. He looked around the boat, searching the water.
“Nowhere to go,” Charmer said. “Don’t even think about trying.”
Michael ignored him.
Engine noise drifted on the ocean breeze. Three boats approached off the starboard quarter. One had been the war boat of el Pulpo, then of King Xavier. Flanking it were two Jet Skis, each bearing two Cazadores. Behind these, a fishing boat carried those who would decide Michael’s fate.
The war boat pumped dark smoke into the air, the engine growling and rumbling. Jamal opened a gate in the starboard side and extended a broad aluminum gangplank from the lobster boat to connect the two vessels. And out of the war boat’s cockpit came someone Michael wasn’t expecting to see.
Captain Rolo crossed the plank with two guards, a female servant, and a scribe in tow. Jamal, Charmer, and the other Cazadores bowed—something else Michael wasn’t expecting to see.
“All hail King Rolo!” said Charmer.
Michael watched in shock as the newly coronated joke crossed the deck. Seeing Rolo wear the crown was a real gut punch.
This was meticulously planned, every tiniest move. They had plotted to remove the islands’ rightful king, take out Michael, and help themselves.
Charmer stared at Michael as if to say, Don’t open your mouth. Only the threat he held over Layla and Bray kept Michael from springing forward and killing Rolo where he stood.
The coward king walked over. “A sad day, Michael,” he said. “But justice will be served, one way or the other.”
A hiss came from behind Michael—Jamal, telling him to kneel before the king. But Michael would never abase himself before this dung smear that called itself a man.
“It’s okay, General,” Rolo said.
Now Michael did look over at Jamal, curious to see what shiny new armor or fancy hat came with his promotion from sergeant all the way to general. Whatever he had been given, it was no doubt also part of Charmer’s grand scheme.
“Considering you were instrumental in my still being alive, I suppose I shouldn’t expect you to kneel,” Rolo said. “This is also why, unlike Eevi, you are getting a trial.”
He stepped around Michael and said to Charmer, “Is everything ready?”
“Yes, but . . .” Charmer looked out over the port rail, then leaned close to Rolo, though Michael could still hear most of it. “I’m not sure if having this out in the open is a good idea after what happened . . . Both men are still missing.”
Michael also heard Rolo reply, “Keep searching, and keep all forces on high alert. The trial will be conducted here.”
Jamal took away the gangplank, and the war boat motored away as the next boat approached. The first jury member walked across the platform.
It was Martino, a businessman Michael had met with not long ago. He had been grateful to Michael for granting his nephew mercy over a stolen battery.
The portly merchant dabbed his forehead with a silk handkerchief as he stepped onto the deck of the boat, which he probably owned.
He looked to Michael, sighed, and took a chair.
Next came the Cazador soldier called Salamander. He glared at Michael with undisguised hatred. The scribe, Ensio, seemed indifferent as he glanced at Michael.
Finally, the sky people came. First Donovan, from Kilimanjaro, and then Bailey, from the former Hive. Bailey seemed to look at Michael with pity, but Donovan seemed neutral for the moment. They all sat in front of Rolo.
“Thank you for coming today,” Charmer said. “I am tasked with prosecuting the trial of Michael Everhart, former Hell Diver, councilman, and chief engineer of the Vanguard Islands.”
“And father and husband,” Michael said.
Charmer held up a hand. “You will have your time to speak.”
Captain Rolo took a drink of wine and looked out over the water, like a man already bored.
“This trial will last two days and will start with the prosecution,” Charmer said. “The second day will give Michael a chance to call witnesses and present his defense. Does everyone understand?”
Nods all around. “Then I will call our first witness.”
Charmer motioned to Jamal, who walked across the platform connecting the two boats. A squirming boy was brought over in the grip of two Cazadores.
“Alton,” Michael said.
“Chief!” the boy wailed. “Chief!”
Michael tried to move, but two hands on his shoulders yanked him back. The guards were even rougher with the boy. One of them grabbed the back of his neck, prompting a screech of pain.
“You pricks!” Michael yelled.
The outburst of anger drew the reproachful eyes of the very people who would decide his fate. This was exactly what Steve had warned him about.
Don’t let Charmer bait you . . .
But Michael couldn’t help it. He wanted to break out of his cuffs and go on a murdering spree, starting with the simpering one-eyed pretender in front of him. Charmer looked at Michael, his lips curled into his customary insolent grin. This was exactly what he wanted.
With a deep breath, Michael tried to calm his body and his mind.
The guards brought Alton in front of the jury and the king.
“Kneel before the king and state your name,” Charmer said.
When Alton refused, one of the guards pushed him to the deck.
“That’s not a king,” Alton said.
Charmer scratched the back of his head, then leaned down to the boy. “King Rolo is your king, and soon you will come to understand that, but I wouldn’t expect you to right now. Now, state your name.”
Alton looked to Michael, who nodded.
“My name is Alton.”
“And Alton, how do you know Michael Everhart?”
“He saved my life. He saved your life, too, and yours,” Alton said, looking at Rolo, who took another sip of wine.
“Would you say you are friends with Michael Everhart?” Charmer asked.
Alton glanced over to Michael.
“Yes,” Alton said. “He is a good person and my best friend.”
“Answer the question and only that, got it?” Charmer said.
“Yes.”
“Good. Tell the jury what you heard and saw the night Oliver and Nez were murdered.”
Alton hesitated.
“Take your time,” Charmer said.
“I heard a cracking noise, a cry of pain, and then when I looked out of my stall, I saw a man leaving.”
“And what was this man wearing?”
“A militia suit.”
“And was there anything specific that you noticed?”
“One of his arms was metal.”
“As if it was made of metal?”
Again Alton hesitated, then nodded.
“Would you say it looked like the prosthetic arm that Michael Everhart has attached to his shoulder?” Charmer asked.
Alton checked Michael, lowered his gaze.
“Yes or no?” Charmer said.
“Yes,” Alton replied. “But it wasn’t him. It couldn’t have been Michael; it was someone dressed up to look like him. It had to be!”
“That is all. Thank you, Alton.”
“Wait. I don’t get to question him?” Michael asked.
“You talk when—” Charmer spluttered.
“Go ahead,” Rolo said.
Michael wasn’t expecting that answer. “Alton, did you get a look at the killer’s face?” he asked.
“No.”
“Did you see what his hair looked like?”
“It was short, I think.”
“He thinks,” Charmer said. “But you’re not sure?”
Alton looked up as if trying to remember but said nothing.
“Anything else from the defense?” Charmer asked.
“No,” Michael said.
Charmer waved for Alton to step away. The guards grabbed him when he tried to run over to Michael.
“I’m sorry, Chief!” he yelled.
“It’s okay,” Michael said. “Everything’s going to be okay.”
The Cazador soldiers took Alton back to the other boat, then brought out their next witness. It was Lilyn, the woman who had lived in the stall opposite Alton’s. She too confirmed she’d seen a man with a robotic arm leaving on the night of the murder. But when Michael asked her, she also admitted she had not seen the killer’s face. She avoided Michael’s gaze on her way back to the boat.
“Two witnesses place a man with a robotic arm at the scene of the crime,” Charmer said. “But I’m sure you’re asking yourself, what motive would Mr. Everhart have to kill Oliver and Nez?”
Charmer looked to Michael.
“Why would this man, a hero to us all, decide to do something so heinous? Something so horrible?” Charmer asked. “A husband and father himself . . .”
“I wouldn’t, as you well know,” said Michael. “I was framed.”
“I won’t ask you again to stay quiet until it’s your turn.”
Michael snorted.
“There is no denying that you and Oliver had a turbulent relationship and that you were even in an argument after his son and Alton got into a scrap,” Charmer said. “Isn’t that correct?”
“I intervened in that incident because Oliver became violent with Alton. But I had no reason to kill Oliver or his son. I’ve never hurt another human who didn’t deserve it.”
“Deserve it . . .” Charmer said. He walked back to face the jury. “As you now have seen, not only was Michael spotted the night of this evil crime, but he and Oliver had an altercation just days before.”
Charmer wagged a finger and turned back to Michael.
“The altercation wasn’t your only motive to kill Oliver,” he said. “We learned about the hidden food supply long before General Jamal went to bring you to justice.”
Michael narrowed his eyes. Everything thus far, he had been prepared for and anticipated, but not this.
“Oliver found out about your secret food cache, didn’t he?” Charmer asked.
“No one knew about the food. I was instructed by King Xavier to make sure of that. For the safety of the islands.”
“That may be, but you failed. Oliver told me he followed you to the prison rig and then to the silos on the island where you hid the food.”
Charmer had to be lying, but there was no way to prove it. He continued to build a motive, and this was a solid one.
Dread gnawed at Michael as, for the next hour, Charmer laid out his case, explaining how Michael had lied countless times, about the food and other things, making him untrustworthy even to his own people.
“Soon, he will stand here and argue he is a hero who rescued us all from the machines,” Charmer said. “He will say he was a Hell Diver long before he was the chief engineer and a council member, and that this should absolve him of his crimes.”
Michael wanted to jump up and argue that he’d never committed a crime, but he kept seated and calm, patiently awaiting his turn.
“Today, I had the unfortunate job of proving that he isn’t the hero we all thought,” Charmer said. “Don’t forget what he did to Oliver and especially to young Nez. This is the real man, sitting on the deck of this boat. A murderer and a liar.”
Michael stared ahead as the jurors all looked in his direction.
A radio crackled. Jamal took it from his vest and stalked off, clearly agitated by the message.
“Tomorrow you will all hear Michael’s defense,” Charmer said. He looked to Michael. “You will be able to call one witness on your behalf. Do you have someone in mind?”
Michael thought on it. The only person who could testify he hadn’t been at the rig when Oliver and Nez were killed was his wife. But they wouldn’t possibly trust Layla. It might be a waste of his one witness, but it also might be the only way he would see her again.
Before he could respond to Charmer, Jamal came running over with two guards, prompting King Rolo to stand.
“What is it?” he asked.
Jamal and Charmer spoke quietly.
“What!” Rolo repeated. “Tell me now, Carl.”
Charmer rubbed his forehead in distress. “There’s been an unfortunate discovery just a few minutes ago,” he said. “We believe the two missing Wave Runner troopers may have been killed. Flotsam from a shot-up Jet Ski was found, including a bloody seat cushion.”
Hushed voices broke out among the jurors. Salamander said nothing, just glared at Michael.
“Because of this morbid find, I believe we should move the final day of the trial to a new location as soon as we can guarantee security,” Charmer suggested.
“I agree,” Rolo said.
Charmer nodded and looked back to Michael. “Have you made a decision on a witness to call?” he asked.
