Allegiance

TWENTY-THREE

Magnolia snapped awake. The rain had stopped sometime in the early morning hours, but the dead city was alive with animal sounds. Electronic wails of hunting sirens, the thunderous roaring of bone beasts, and the cackles and squawks of the creatures the alpha predators hunted. The noises from the circus of mutant creatures echoed outside the underground shelter, taking her mind off Alexander’s death for a moment.

She raised her wrist monitor and tapped the screen to bring up the location of the other divers onto her HUD, to make sure it wasn’t just a dream.

Only four beacons of Team Raptor came online.

Her pounding heart ached for Eevi and for everyone else who had loved Alexander. He was a good man and a brave diver.

A screech, followed by a long wail of agony, distracted her. Magnolia recognized the sound of a dying vulture, probably being torn apart, wings and all.

She wanted to shut off her speakers and seal her helmet to block out the noises, but she had to keep alert. They weren’t safe here. The building with a sinking foundation was only a mile north of where they docked the boat, and they were still another two miles from their target.

Another guttural roar came from outside. This one was closer than the others.

She looked toward the sealed-off windows on the left side of the room. Rainwater cascaded under the sheets of metal, forming a lake on the far side of the basement.

“Those are really bone beasts?” Rodger asked.

“Yes,” Alejo replied.

“Sounds like there are a lot of them,” Rodger said.

Everyone in the basement knew that the beasts were more powerful and harder to kill than Sirens. Not even the hardened Cazador warriors, who lived for the hunt, were out there trying to bring one home as a trophy.

General Santiago was already down three men since they docked, and with two sentries remaining behind at the Sea Wolf, that left only five soldiers in the main group.

They weren’t the only ones who had suffered a loss. Magnolia checked her wrist computer again to make sure the remaining four beacons were still online. They blinked on her screen, but they weren’t moving. Like her team, they had ridden out the storm through the night.

She checked her suit battery again—still above 70 percent. Then she leaned her helmet on Rodger’s shoulder to get some rest.

Several feet away, General Santiago and Lieutenant Alejo sat with their backs against the same wall. A third Cazador stood guard at the stairwell, the only entrance and exit to the space. He stood so still, she wondered whether he had somehow dozed off while standing up.

The other two men held watch on the upper floors, looking out over the streets for hostiles. Soon, Magnolia would take one’s place, allowing him some rest before they moved back out in the morning.

She closed her eyes, trying to drown out the monsters’ racket and the heartbreak of losing Alexander.

A deep roar sounded in the street, jerking her awake just as she was nodding off. The ground trembled, rattling dust from the dry ceiling. She pulled her head away from Rodger, grabbed her laser rifle from the wall, and walked to the center of the room.

“What is it?” Alejo whispered.

Magnolia pointed at the metal sheets strung up over the broken windows on the east corner. Footfalls thumped outside, pulverizing the cracked asphalt.

She motioned for everyone to be quiet.

The shadow of a massive beast moved across the metal window coverings, darkening the cracks and gaps.

Glancing over her shoulder, she motioned toward the window. The guard at the stairwell had moved down, rifle up, to stand beside General Santiago. It took Rodger a moment before he too raised his weapon.

The thudding footsteps continued past their hideout. A cracked, leaning wall was all that stood between the team and the beast. It stopped about halfway along the wall to sniff the air. Then it let out a roar so loud, it hurt her ears. Heart thudding, she aimed her rifle at the shadow, finger against the trigger guard.

The monster suddenly bolted away, but she kept her rifle up and her eyes locked on the windows. In her mind’s eye, she could picture one of the beasts ripping away the metal sheets and squeezing into the room.

Outside, an animal screech ended abruptly. The bone beast had found other prey. With luck, whatever it was eating would tide it over and it would return to its lair.

She finally lowered her rifle and retreated to her spot against the wall, hoping for sleep.

A nudge woke her some time later. Gasping in alarm, she brought up her rifle, and the person who woke her fell on his butt.

“Mags, it’s just me,” said a voice.

She saw then that it was Rodger, and a glance around reminded her that they were in the basement of the shelter. Sorrow filled her when she also remembered that Alexander was dead.

Rodger held up his hands. “Mags, lower the gun,” he said. “It’s our watch.”

A glance at her HUD told her it was just after four in the morning. Standing up as the confusion wore off, she stretched and took a drink from the straw in her helmet.

After relieving herself into the bag in her suit, she went up the stairwell with Rodger. The guard there nodded at them and joined Santiago, but Alejo followed them up the stairs to the first floor. Using hand signals, they moved out into a hallway.

The passage the team had used to enter the building was a narrow crawl space through a pile of rubble on the west wall. The first-floor ceiling had caved in on the north side of the building, dumping pieces of broken furniture, acoustic tile, and other debris into the rooms.

She walked with Rodger and Alejo to the east, toward a stairwell that opened to the second floor. They passed several rooms open to the elements, their doors long since broken off. She glanced into each, seeing more wreckage piled on the floors.

The only recognizable furniture was a slanted metal desk with a broken leg, and a lamp with no shade.

Voices came from the stairwell, and she moved behind Rodger to get a look.

The sentry, Ruiz, who was still injured from the snake attack at the fuel outpost, limped into view. His rapid, almost frantic speech and hand gestures to Alejo told her something was wrong.

She squeezed past Rodger and crept up the stairs.

“What’s going on?” she asked.

Alejo looked back. “Ren is missing.”

“What do you mean, ‘missing’?”

“He’s not at his post, and Ruiz couldn’t find him when he went upstairs.”

“Shit,” Magnolia said. “Tell Ruiz to show us where Ren was posted.”

Ruiz motioned for them to follow. He limped up two flights of stairs and entered a hallway. The walls were covered in splotches of reddish lichen. Ropes of the stuff grew in a web across the passage, but a doorway had been hacked through.

They slipped through, and Ruiz pointed to a room on the east side of the hallway. She brought her laser rifle up and crept toward the room. How had a bone beast, not known for their stealth and subtlety, sneaked through here and grabbed a sentry without waking everyone?

Another string of the sticky vines gripped her armored shoulder but broke away as she pressed ahead. Alejo followed her into the apartment where Ren had taken up his post. The wall separating the former kitchen from the living room had a hole through the middle. Bent and broken pipes stuck out in the shape of a smashed rib cage.

Rainwater covered the floor under the broken window frames in the next room. Muddy footprints led up to them. Magnolia bent down and looked them over. They were human.

Alejo whispered to Ruiz as she studied the tracks. She found another print, but it wasn’t from a boot.

She shined her helmet light over what looked like another smaller footprint. Next, she raked the beam over the dark puddle. Finally, she ran the light up the wall, finding blood spatter.

“Shit,” she muttered. Shutting off her light, she switched back to night vision and backed away with a shushing finger to her helmet. Alejo and Ruiz nodded in acknowledgment and raised their weapons.

Something had killed Ren and removed his body without their hearing it, just as it had killed the Cazadores on the shore and gotten away before they could even get a glimpse of the beast.

Alejo was right: something was hunting the Cazadores—which meant it was also hunting Team Raptor.

The lack of sleep made X feel as if he were drunk. He should be so lucky. Getting shit-faced would at least take his mind off all the problems facing him.

But that was the old X. He was responsible now for more than himself. Thousands of lives rested in his hands, and things were about to blow up.

An hour had passed since the two members of the Lion’s crew sailed into Vanguard Island territory. Now he waited to hear about their condition and what they knew.

He remained on the capitol tower, staring at the wake of the cigar boats packed full of militia soldiers, off to intercept the rowboat. Miles sat on his haunches, and Rhino stood beside X, not saying much but clearly nervous.

The big Cazador warrior finally spoke. “We have to kill them.”

X glanced at the Cazador warrior. “Okay, now I have to go with Sloan,” he said. “That idea is crazy as hell.”

“If those two survivors explain what happened with Discovery, then forget killing Vargas—you’re going to have to kill every Cazador soldier on these islands, and a few boatloads of civilians.”

Now X really wished he were drunk. He cursed under his breath. Things had just gone from terrible to a damn sight worse in a matter of hours, and the sun still wasn’t up yet. Meanwhile, Discovery was off on a mission over three thousand miles away.

“We have to hope your war boats get to that rowboat before Mercury does,” Rhino said.

The breeze rustled through the beard X had grown. He rubbed his cheek, then pulled out his walkie-talkie.

“Sloan, X. Do you copy? Over.”

She answered a moment later. “Copy, X. Go ahead.”

“Have our boats reached that skiff yet?”

“Just got there. They are in the process of moving the two survivors onto our boats, but Mercury also just arrived.”

“Shit,” X said.

“You have to quarantine those men,” Rhino said. “Do you have Spanish-speakers in those crews?”

“Sloan, do we have any Spanish-speaking members of the militia on those boats?” X asked.

“Roger that, sir.”

“Tell them to explain that our team is taking the survivors to treat them for radiation poisoning.”

“Will do, sir,” Sloan replied.

“And what about the fishing crew?” Rhino said. “What if those two sailors told them what happened?”

“Then we’re screwed,” X said. “Either way, I’m planning for the worst.”

He left Rhino standing there and nodded for Miles to follow him.

“King Xavier, what about Ada?” Rhino called out.

X stopped and turned slightly. “What about her?”

“You still haven’t done anything with her.” Rhino’s chest puffed out, reminding him of a vulture calling for its mate. “You can’t let her go without punishment, King Xavier.”

X had anticipated this moment, when his friend and most trusted bodyguard finally lost patience about the former airship officer.

“I promise you this,” Rhino said. “Pretty much anything you do to her will be better than what the Cazadores will do if they find out the truth.”

“True,” X said. He led Miles away from Rhino, needing a break to clear his mind. They walked toward one of the two machine-gun emplacements nestled at the edge of the rooftop.

The canopy of palm trees swayed lazily in the citrus-scented breeze. The smell made his stomach growl. He had skipped dinner last night, and on top of being exhausted, he was so hungry he could eat a mutant whale. But before he ate or rested, he had to make sure they were ready for whatever was coming.

X stopped at the machine-gun nest. It had been built on a platform with bags of rock positioned around the old weapon. Two militia soldiers sat on stools looking over the eastern horizon. They both stood as he approached, and in the candlelight, he recognized a young man and an even younger woman from the lower decks of the Hive.

“Sir,” they said as one.

“Morning,” he said. “How are things looking out there?”

The woman turned a helmet two sizes too big to look out at the water. She then looked back at X and pushed up the visor, revealing a pimply face.

Another kid. Like Felipe and so many others who were fighting for their people.

“Are we going to war again, sir?” she asked.

“I hope not, but if we do, I’ll need you both to hold this position,” he said. “That’s your job: make sure no one gets to this tower.”

“We won’t abandon our post, sir,” said the young man. He held a bolt-action rifle in his hand.

“You good with that?” X asked, reaching out.

The soldier handed it over. “I could shoot a crab off the Hive from here without puncturing the hull,” he said.

X looked through the scope at the decommissioned airship. He could see light through several of the portholes. There was no way in hell the kid could hit a crab from here, but he didn’t argue. Confidence was a good thing. It helped dull the fear.

He handed the rifle back to the soldier. “Stay sharp and watch the waters.”

“For what, sir?” asked the girl. “Is it the machines?”

“Could be the machines, could be humans,” X said. “Just make sure you’re ready.”

He had given the order to prepare for a battle without giving any details on who they would be fighting. Until he knew more about the two survivors from the Lion, he didn’t want to get his people too riled up.

But he did want them ready. If Elysium and Mercury went on the warpath, they would inflict some serious damage on the Hive and the capitol tower before his people could stop them.

It would be the end of the islands, allowing Horn to sail in and claim the throne with little resistance.

All because of Ada.

The radio crackled as X left the two young soldiers. He paused a moment before answering. During all the time spent trekking through the wastes or sailing on the Sea Wolf to the Metal Islands, he had never felt such bad anxiety.

The entire fate of both peoples hinged on two survivors from the Lion.

“This is X, go ahead,” he finally said.

“Sir, we have both castaways and are bringing them back to the islands,” Sloan reported. “Mercury is following our boats but hasn’t tried to wave them down, or anything.”

“Let me know when they get here,” X said. “I’m going to the shit can.”

“Yes, sir. And I always appreciate you sharing such details.”

X had to grin as he led Miles back across the roof and into the forest, where a hammock hung between two trees. It was tempting, but he wasn’t going to sleep, and he wasn’t going to the shit can.

He was sneaking off to pay a visit to Ada.