Hell divers x fallout, p.26
Hell Divers X: Fallout, page 26
Miles sat on his haunches next to Magnolia, wagging his tail under his hazard suit. She found herself patting him on the head while the boat started toward the outpost. It helped calm her mind and soothe her heart during the ride.
“There it is,” someone called out.
Magnolia stood up for a better view but saw only the faint outline of land in her night-vision optics.
“I’m coming, Rodge,” she whispered.
She reached into her vest and pulled out a stim pill she had stolen from sickbay. It would make her crash hard, but she needed to be sharp until then.
As the shore came into focus, she lifted her visor and popped the pill. A sip of water washed it down.
When she clicked her visor back into place, she had a canal view of Panama City. Piles of debris that were once high-rises and resorts lined the shore. The view from the port side was much the same. The Cazador pilot steered toward the sand where they planned to beach the assault craft.
By the time the bow hit the surf, the stim pill had taken effect. Magnolia felt a flood of warmth in her system, along with a massive boost of energy.
“We move slow and careful,” X said loud enough for everyone to hear.
The assault craft plowed through the waves and slid up onto the beach. Magnolia hopped over the side—first one off.
“Mags, remember what I said,” X called out. “Jo-Jo will take point.”
Valeria took the chain off the beast and let her roam. Jo-Jo loped up to the top of an embankment to scan the area while the remaining Cazadores got off the craft. The pilot pulled the assault craft away, motoring back into the darkness for cover.
Edgar and Sofia ran up with Magnolia while the soldiers fanned out. X stayed in the middle of the pack with Miles as they worked their way up from the beach and into the former resort area. Slayer and Blackburn stuck close to X, rifles up.
The group moved into the concrete jungle of ruined hotels. Magnolia looked west, still unable to see the outpost.
On the trek through the streets, Jo-Jo moved along on her knuckles, her spiky back hair lying flat. She stopped to sniff a hole in the ground, then continued toward the shells of decomposing vehicles filling the road—a perfect place for the spawn creatures to hide in ambush.
Magnolia brought up her infrared scope to search for the crablike monsters, but no heat signatures flickered. She clicked on her wrist computer to check the Geiger counter. The radiation was no different from what she remembered from her last time here.
They made it through the ruined resort zone without contacts. Not a single creature prowled in their sights. They were getting close to the canal. She checked on X, Miles, and the Hell Divers. X was telling Sofia to come up with Magnolia, probably in the hope this would keep her from straying ahead.
But Magnolia just couldn’t hold back. When she started to feel the stim wearing off, she picked up her pace.
“Mags,” Sofia said.
She heard X curse.
She didn’t slow and instead ran past Jo-Jo to the top of a hill—where she froze. An open field was all that stood between them and the canal’s banks—widened and deepened two centuries ago. The first thing she noticed in the water was the Osprey, sitting right where she had seen it last.
Throwing up her rifle, she did a quick scan with the infrared scope again but saw no heat signatures. She moved her sights back to the rusty ship for a closer inspection. Unlike the Frog, the Osprey showed no sign of damage or a fight.
X trekked up the embankment and stood beside Magnolia. She half expected an ass chewing, but he just scoped the area.
Valeria returned with Jo-Jo. Then came the rest of the soldiers, moving into combat intervals across the field, toward the bridge that still crossed the canal.
At the bridge, X went ahead with Miles while Sofia again joined Magnolia. Finally, the group trekked across the bridge and reached the other side of the canal. The stacked containers remained in a wall around Outpost Gateway, but not a single soldier guarded them.
Magnolia studied the terrain, not seeing any bodies of spawn or the gargantuan breeders. There were no twisting vines or fiery radioactive beasts. Jo-Jo’s hair remained flat, still indicating no perceived threats. There was nothing out here, it seemed.
The Cazador fire team and the Hell Divers advanced around the containers to the front gates, which stood wide open. Tents, some of them unzipped, flapped in the breeze.
Slayer flashed hand signals, and the Cazadores moved out. Magnolia staggered inside the outpost, her heart pounding.
Please, she thought. Please somehow be okay, Rodge.
The fire team scoured the inside of the fort, checking every building and tent. Magnolia resisted the urge to scream for Rodger.
Stay calm, Mags. Stay calm . . .
“Maybe they evacuated,” X said.
“And went where?” Slayer asked. “The Osprey’s still here.”
“Let’s head to the bunker.”
Magnolia started in that direction, following the Barracudas down a ramp and underground. These doors were open too, just slightly.
Slayer led them down a passageway, playing his flashlight beam over an empty hall. Severed vines lay curled up like dead snakes. Magnolia hurried after them, and Slayer held up a hand.
“We got a body,” he said. “Or what’s left of it.”
She squeezed ahead, moving up to a small pile of armor and bones. There was no way to tell who it was, but the armor said Cazador.
“Something got inside and picked it clean,” Slayer said.
X went up for a look, then told the group to split up. “Valeria, Blackburn, you take Jo-Jo that way,” he said. “Slayer, Mags, with me.”
They parted, and Miles trotted along with Magnolia, X, and Slayer. In the next corridor, they located three more sets of remains, each a Cazador soldier.
Slayer reached the command room to find the door locked.
“Stand back,” X said, drawing his blaster. He shot the lock, destroying it, and Slayer kicked the door open to a room in disarray.
The wall had caved in on the right side, spilling half a dump-truck load of dirt across the floor. Monitors and computers lay strewn about, chairs and decks upended. Two sets of remains lay scattered throughout the space.
“Something got in,” X said. “Something big.”
“Spawn?” Slayer asked.
X bent down and picked up a femur. Part of it broke into lumps of grit. He scooped it up, letting it sift through his fingers. Miles bent down to sniff it through his suit and gave a whine.
“I was right,” X whispered.
“About what?” Magnolia asked.
X glanced up. “There was a dive, a very long time ago. I was with Aaron Everhart. We encountered carnivorous vines.”
“We’ve all seen those.”
“Yeah, but these were different.” He stood up, brushed his hand on his leg. “I don’t think it was spawn that picked these bodies clean . . .”
A grunt drew all eyes to the open doorway. Jo-Jo knuckle-walked inside with Valeria and Blackburn.
“Find anything?” X asked.
“Nada,” Valeria said.
“Maybe the outpost was abandoned after the vine attack,” Edgar said. “Maybe they all went back to the islands.”
Magnolia wanted to believe that.
“Something broke into the bunker,” Sofia said, looking at the caved-in wall. “The doors were open, so maybe he’s right—maybe people did flee and the soldiers stayed behind to cover their retreat.”
Tia went over to check the wall, next to another pile of clothing, armor, hair, and bones.
“Careful,” Edgar said. “Watch for a spawn hole.”
He joined Tia with his rifle and tactical light trained on the darkness. Sofia went with them while Magnolia searched the room with Slayer, X, and Miles.
“I think spawn have used this tunnel,” Edgar announced. “There’s more bodies in here—looks like they were dragged out.”
“So maybe the vines broke in, and the spawn came after to feed?” Slayer asked.
Magnolia was growing impatient. “We need to keep searching,” she said. “There could be survivors.”
“Okay,” X said. “Let’s head topside.”
“Wait,” Edgar said.
Magnolia was already heading out of the room when she heard her best friend cry out.
“Oh no,” Sofia murmured.
She was standing next to Edgar at the mouth of the tunnel. He seemed to be holding something.
Sofia blocked Magnolia as she rushed over.
“What?” she asked. “What did you find?”
Edgar kept his back turned.
“What is it?” Magnolia asked. She forced her way past Sofia, nearly pushing her out of the way to find Edgar holding a twisted pair of eyeglasses.
Magnolia stared at them a moment, realization setting in as she finally reached out and took them gingerly from him.
“Where did you find these?” she asked.
Edgar pointed his chin at the bones in the cavernous hole. Most had been smashed to little hills of ash.
Magnolia looked again at the glasses, confirming they had belonged to Rodger. A tear rolled down her cheek as she slipped them gently into a vest pocket. Then she went down on her knees in front of the tunnel opening. She reached inside with both hands, scooping up the ash in her palms—all that remained of her lover and best friend.
“No,” she mumbled. “Oh God, oh, please no.”
X walked over. “Mags, I’m . . .”
She brushed his hand off with a shake of her shoulder before collapsing in tears.
“Rodger, I’m so sorry,” Magnolia said. “Rodge . . .”
A shriek interrupted her sobbing.
At first, she thought it was her own voice.
“What is that?” someone asked.
“It’s coming from . . .” Slayer said.
Magnolia noticed a glowing orange light under her visor. She slowly glanced up as the tunnel brightened.
Slayer and Blackburn ran over to her with rifles up, aiming down the corridor. She went back to scooping the ashes into a pile as carefully as she could.
“Mags,” X said. “Mags, we have to go.”
Magnolia remained on her knees in front of the tunnel, collecting the ash into a waterproof bag she often used for electronics.
The shrieking grew louder, the orange glow more intense.
“King Xavier, we need to get out of here!” Slayer said. “Something’s coming . . . fast.”
Hands reached down and picked Magnolia up. Ash sifted down from her hands.
“No!” she wailed.
Edgar and Sofia dragged her out of the room, moving into the passage just as a glowing humanoid figure with bark-like skin emerged in the tunnel entrance where Rodger had perished. The alarm from the Geiger counter chirped at a major spike in radiation.
X raised his rifle.
The incandescent creature pulled itself out of the tunnel and dropped to all fours. It got up, staggered forward, moaning and reaching out with burned limbs. Tattered, blackened clothes hung off the hardened muscles and flesh, which seemed to glow and pulsate between the grooves. The once-human creature moved toward them on legs that were nothing but bones.
Not bones, Magnolia realized. They were prosthetics.
“It’s . . . Bromista,” Slayer said in disbelief.
He lowered his rifle as the much-altered lieutenant stumbled through the command room groaning, his eyes burning like candle wicks.
“Bromista, stop!” Slayer shouted. “Stop. We’re going to help you.”
X kept his rifle up but didn’t fire at the glowing monster that was once the funniest Cazador. This was no longer the jocular though supremely competent warrior they had left in charge of the outpost.
“There’s no helping him,” X said. “The only thing you can do now is show mercy.”
Slayer held his weapon in shaky hands, aiming it at his best friend. “Lo siento, hermano.”
Magnolia closed her eyes, gripping the bag of ashes to her chest as machine-gun fire and another cry of death rang out.
TWENTY
Thunder rattled the barred windows of the circular room. Outside, sporadic lightning captured the beetle shape of the airship, hovering in the darkness over the prison rig once known as the Shark’s Cage.
Soon, the second and final day of the trial would kick off. In just a few hours, Michael would be reunited with his wife, perhaps for the last time.
He watched the airship from the viewports in the top of the tower, where he stood with his hands bound. A chain ran from the cuffs to ankle bracelets.
The irony wasn’t lost on him. This was the exact room where X had stored hundreds of barrels of food from the supercarrier Immortal. Ton and Victor had slept here for days, protecting the location, before they decided to move it.
Now it would be the venue for the second and final day of the trial that would determine Michael’s life or death.
This place, a former prison, had held some true human monsters guilty of murder and rape. Some of those prisoners had spent hours and months in this very room, making ammunition and explosives.
The metal chairs where those prisoners once sat now supported the five jurors of the trial: Martino, Salamander, Ensio, Donovan, and Bailey.
Two Cazador soldiers stood guard at the single door to the room. It opened a few minutes later, and Charmer walked inside with a new scribe.
“Imulah,” Michael whispered.
The bearded scribe hardly even glanced at Michael.
“My apologies for all the delays,” Charmer said. “Between the weather and security challenges, it’s been difficult, and for that reason the king will not be joining us.”
Another heavy thunderclap shook the floor.
“That’s a cue to get started, I’d say,” Charmer said. “Proceed whenever you’re ready, Mr. Everhart.”
Michael shuffled to the front of the jury with all eyes on him. It was obvious Bailey felt pity for him. In his preparation, Michael had decided to focus on convincing the former Hive citizen, along with the businessman Martino, of his innocence.
They were his best shot.
He wouldn’t waste energy on getting Salamander’s vote, probably not Donovan’s either. The sky person from Kilimanjaro had known Oliver. There was nothing but anger in their gazes. Michael wasn’t sure about Ensio, but the Cazador scribe would be the tiebreaker, if Martino and Bailey found him not guilty.
For days, Michael had had the time to go over what he would say, but now that it was time, the gravity of his situation gave him pause. On a dive, his body and instincts kept him alive. Today, he needed words.
“I stand here in front of you as a guilty man,” Michael said.
Brows rose among the jurors.
“I’m guilty of failing to see the bad in people,” he continued. “For my entire life, I have put others first, risking my life to keep the Hive in the sky, then in a war against el Pulpo to liberate the Metal Islands and turn them into what you know today as the Vanguard Islands. After that, I spent years traveling the world to rescue survivors, but you already know all that.”
Michael looked at each juror in turn.
“I stand before you, framed for a crime that I would never commit,” Michael said. “The evidence against me is circumstantial at best. Did I have an altercation with Oliver? Yes. Did multiple people see someone with something that looked like this?” He raised his prosthetic arm. “Also true.”
Michael lowered his arm again. “But Alton and Lilyn never saw this killer’s face,” he said. “Anyone could have put on armor to make it look like me.”
“Is that so?” Charmer asked.
“Yes, absolutely.”
“I see.”
The trial slogged on for the next hour, with Michael explaining where he had been the night of the crime. Soon, his wife would confirm that he had been at home with her. He remembered the night well because he’d had a nightmare about armored soldiers coming to their apartment.
“My wife will confirm all this,” Michael said.
“Very well,” Charmer said. “Let’s take a short break, then reconvene with the defendant’s witness.”
The jurors left the room with Charmer and one of the guards, but Imulah stayed. He walked over to the viewports to look out the windows.
Both men knew how dangerous it would be to talk. For all Michael knew, Charmer had hidden cameras or mics in here, but there was one question he didn’t fear.
“Imulah, if I am found guilty, what options do I have?” Michael asked. “Can I request judgment by combat?”
“I’m afraid not. The Cazador ways are over. Violence is prohibited in a new law signed by King Rolo. He has declared an end to the old ways.”
“So my options . . .”
“I’m sorry, Chief—er, Michael. I’m also sorry about King Xavier. He was a brave leader,” said the scribe. “But he knew the risks when he decided to go to Panama and beyond.”
Michael wondered if Imulah had any idea about the truth. “There was a woman, Janga, on the Hive when I was growing up. She believed it would take a prophet of great strength and resolve to find a safe place for us to live.” Michael shifted in his chains. “The challenges X survived to get us here and to ensure our survival will echo in eternity.”
“That’s true,” said a voice from behind them.
Charmer had returned.
“The former king’s contribution to the islands will assure his place in history with his predecessors,” he said. “El Pulpo and those who came before were warlords, and fortunately for us all, humanity’s time for war has finally passed.” That famously insolent grin spread across Charmer’s face. “We are building a new, peaceful home here, led by a man of peace, King Rolo.”
