Captives

SEVEN

Magnolia had never seen so much food in her life. She followed Imulah into a room of banquet tables decked in white cloths and gold runners, with old-world china dishes and glass goblets at each setting. Four chandeliers illuminated the bountiful feast being brought in by servants in clean white garments.

They carried all sorts of dishes: bowls overflowing with fruit, platters of meat and of fish, some of them with heads and eyeballs and fins.

The only thing from the ocean she had ever eaten was shark, and she wasn’t eager to try anything that could look back at her. But her stomach did growl at the sight of plates stacked with strips of crispy bacon and hunks of ham coated in a clear glaze.

She had felt sick after the spectacle at the Sky Arena, where she had been forced to watch a dozen other matches after X and Rodger’s bout with the giant.

In one contest, two male warriors were pitted against a woman with dreadlocks down to her lower back. She dispatched the first man quickly with her sword but let the other victim linger. After cutting his Achilles tendon, she straddled him and gouged out his eyeballs with her bare hands. That had the crowd standing, and it almost made Magnolia puke.

But that wasn’t even the worst part. Before Magnolia even had time to look away, the female warrior had sliced off his testicles and held them in the air, letting out a howl like a wolf.

In the sky, life was precious. Every single soul was important. But not here, apparently. On the Metal Islands, fighting and killing were part of daily life. They glorified it. And from what she could see, these people didn’t fear death.

After what she had just witnessed, Magnolia wasn’t so sure she wanted her friends to come rescue her unless they sent a volley of missiles and bombs down first. There was no way the people on the Hive could win a fight against this warrior society.

“Tonight, you sit next to el Pulpo,” Imulah said, gesturing toward a long banquet table at the head of the room. Dozens of chairs were set up along one side, most of them already occupied by el Pulpo’s wives. Two large wingback chairs, both decorated in octopus engravings, remained empty.

“Let me guess: this is my seat,” Magnolia said.

Imulah nodded politely. “Go ahead and have something to drink while we wait.”

Magnolia pulled the chair back from the table, drawing the attention of the other nine women. Sofia and Inge sat across from her, watching her every move as if she was a potential enemy, sizing her up with their youthful eyes. But they weren’t the only ones.

An older woman with braided dark hair narrowed her gaze and stared at Magnolia. She licked her lips and clacked sharp teeth together as Magnolia sat down.

Why the hell would any of them ever want to sit where she was sitting? There was no way they actually loved el Pulpo, or even liked him.

Right?

Magnolia took a goblet and drank. The fruity liquid was surprisingly good. She set the glass down as helmetless Cazador soldiers in body armor filed into the room.

Next came a group of men wearing immaculate gray or dark-blue suits similar to the old-world suit that Timothy Pepper wore. Two of the men had slicked-back hair and neatly trimmed beards. One wore eyeglasses and carried a clipboard under his arm. It was the same guy she remembered at the dock when she arrived. He had stood there writing with a pencil, glancing up over his spectacles every few strokes as he tallied supplies and boats, or people, or whatever the hell he was doing.

The other men were bald and freshly shaved. She picked up voices in Spanish, English, and a language she didn’t recognize. They all took their seats, but no one ate. Apparently, these people did have manners, after all.

Unable to resist, she finally took a piece of bacon and crunched it down, again drawing the attention of the wives. Inge clicked her tongue and looked away in disgust. Sofia cracked an amused half smile.

Magnolia shrugged and kept eating.

Servants continued bringing in more food and filling up glasses with the berry-colored liquid. The chandeliers were dimmed as a man brought in a torch and lit the sconces on the walls. An orange flicker of flames danced across the bulkheads.

Magnolia twisted in her chair to look out the porthole windows behind her. The glass provided a view to a jeweled sky, the most beautiful she had ever seen.

A shooting star ripped through the darkness.

For a moment, she felt a hint of joy. But she suppressed it, not allowing herself to feel anything but anger. To buy into the pomp and pageantry was to betray her friends. Also, it was dangerous to let her guard down. She had to stay sharp and ready to seize the moment if the opportunity to escape should appear.

She turned back to the table just as a loud chanting began. The soldiers all stood and beat their chests as el Pulpo ducked through an open doorway and entered the room, with a smug grin on his scarred face. His eye roved from face to face until it locked on her, and his grin widened.

A dark-skinned warrior, one of the most massive men Magnolia had ever seen, followed the king into the room. The soldier held a chain with Miles tethered at the other end.

The dog trotted after his handler, head down, tail between his legs.

Everyone stood to greet King Pulpo, but Magnolia remained in her seat and took another drink. She wiped her mouth with her forearm and set the glass back down.

“Now is when you stand,” said Imulah. He walked over and leaned down, whispering in her ear. “You’d better start showing some respect, or you will end up with a back worse than Sofia’s.”

Recalling the crosshatched scars hidden beneath the young woman’s long hair, she finally did as he instructed.

El Pulpo made his way across the room wearing light armor—only plates on his forearms and shins. An open red silk shirt showed off his burly chest and a long seashell necklace. The strip of hair above the octopus tattoo on his forehead was slicked back with some sort of grease.

The warrior accompanying the king yanked Miles toward the table and made him sit beside the chair reserved for el Pulpo. The dog obeyed, going down on his haunches.

“It’s okay, boy,” Magnolia said.

Miles looked up and let out a soft whine.

I know. I miss X, too.

“Magnolia,” el Pulpo said almost politely. Then he gestured toward the massive warrior looming behind him. “Meet Rhino,” he said.

The man held out his hand to Magnolia. “Lieutenant Rhino,” he said in a gruff voice.

She twisted to give the hulking bodyguard and, apparently, officer, a once-over. He was by far the most muscular person she had ever seen. He had short-cropped dark hair and wore shiny silver octopus cuffs above his biceps, and hoops hung from his pierced ears and between his nostrils. His long goatee ended in a silver bead.

“Not very polite, are you?” Rhino said.

“Not to cannibals—even the ones that speak English.”

He dropped his hand back to the pommel of the sword at his hip, and stiffened as el Pulpo took a seat.

The king held up his hands to silence his subjects. When the side conversations had died down, he raised his goblet. Imulah translated for Magnolia as el Pulpo spoke.

“Tonight, we make a very special offering to the Octopus Lord of the depths. Tonight, we will send the body of one of the fiercest warriors in the history of our people.”

At first, Magnolia feared they were talking about dumping X into the ocean, but then she saw two soldiers dragging Hammerhead’s corpse into the room.

They hauled the body to an open area left of the tables, right in front of a hatch, which Imulah opened to a balcony overlooking the ocean.

Moonlight streamed into the room, casting a white glow over Hammerhead’s pale skin. Strips of flesh had been taken from his thigh and arms, leaving glistening wounds.

Magnolia dropped the piece of bacon in her hand and gagged. She had seen the hog pens, but was she even eating pork?

Imulah returned to Magnolia’s side and translated as el Pulpo spoke.

“Before we feast and prepare our offering, I want you all to meet the man known for killing Hammerhead. His sky people call him ‘the Immortal,’ and now I understand why.”

Two more soldiers walked X into the room, holding swords to his back. His hands were cuffed and his feet shackled. He wore long pants and a ragged shirt that showed off the cuts and bruises from the fight.

X shuffled inside, stopping near the corpse of the gladiator he had killed with Rodger’s help. All voices in the room fell silent as all eyes focused on the legendary Hell Diver.

“Fuck y’all lookin’ at?” he growled. Seeing Magnolia and Miles, he softened and smiled, revealing the gap from the tooth he lost in the arena. The smile, while warm, was also sad, and Magnolia nearly broke down at the sight of her friend in chains.

El Pulpo turned to Rhino and gave him instructions in Spanish.

“Sí, su Majestad.” The lieutenant walked over to the corpse and pulled a long knife from his belt. Bending down, he cut a strip of meat away from the body. Then he stood and faced X.

“El Pulpo said you have once again proved your worth as a Cazador warrior, but the final test before your first mission is to become one of us.” He held out the flesh.

X reared back. “Oh, hell no,” he said.

“To become one of us, you must eat the flesh of a fallen Cazador.” Rhino continued holding the flesh out and looked over to el Pulpo.

The king said something to the two soldiers who had brought X into the room. They grabbed him under the arms, and one of them kicked him in the back of the knee, forcing him down.

“No!” X shouted. “I won’t!”

Miles growled, but el Pulpo snapped his fingers, and the dog cowered and looked away.

“Don’t you touch him, you sack of shit!” X shouted.

Rhino grabbed his jaw and got a round peg of wood between his teeth. X snorted and fought, but it was just a matter of time before the huge warrior would stuff the meat down his gullet.

“Leave him alone!” Magnolia shouted, jumping up from her chair.

El Pulpo also stood, towering over her.

“Sit,” he said.

She watched in horror as Rhino finally forced X’s jaw open, but he continued to struggle, squirming and fighting in the grip of the two soldiers. One of them punched him in the kidney. He arched his back and grimaced.

“Stop!” Magnolia shouted.

El Pulpo grabbed her by the wrist, just as she had grabbed Sofia earlier in the day, only his grip was much stronger. He could break her arm if he wanted.

“Vas a aprender,” he said. “You… learn.”

He shoved her back into the chair and then set off across the room. The men in suits and the women stayed put, but the armored soldiers got up from their seats and followed el Pulpo to the area in front of the open hatch. One by one, they bent down with their knives and each took a piece of flesh.

Imulah whispered to Magnolia, “I told you to do as you’re told. Next time, he won’t be so forgiving.”

She shivered in rage and horror.

“They believe the flesh of a fallen warrior gives them strength,” Imulah said, “and that if they eat it, they absorb some of his skills and courage. I need not partake in this tradition, because I’m not a warrior, but if you are asked, I would advise you follow the order. It’s a huge sign of disrespect to do what X is doing.”

When the men had finished eating the dead hero’s flesh, el Pulpo grabbed the cadaver and, with Rhino’s help, hoisted it out onto the balcony. Another servant wrapped a long rope around his ankles and tied the other end to the railing. Once it was secure, they heaved the body over the edge, and it splashed into the water below.

When they came back inside, X was still squirming in the grip of the other warriors.

“You will eat eventually, Immortal,” Rhino said. “Or perhaps, someday soon we will feast on your flesh. First, though, we have a mission for you.”

“No,” Magnolia cried as he was taken out of the room. Miles got up and barked, and this time a soldier kicked him.

Magnolia bolted from her chair and kicked the soldier, knocking him to the ground. Then she grabbed a knife off the table.

“You touch him again, and I’ll cut your tiny nuts off and feed them to your Octopus Lords from the depths,” she snapped.

Miles growled as a shadow flickered on the bulkheads. When she turned, she saw el Pulpo looming behind her. He backhanded her in the face, knocking her onto the table.

“Don’t touch them!” X yelled from the open doorway. “I’ll fucking kill you! I’ll kill you all!”

The soldiers punched and kicked him into submission, but he continued to yell as they dragged him away.

“I’m going to kill you, el Pulpo! Bet on it!”

X expected to be led back to his quarters and given another beating, but instead, Rhino and the other two Cazador soldiers took him down an outer stairway toward the docks.

“You aren’t very smart, are you?” Rhino asked.

X used his shoulder to wipe the blood from his cracked lip. His entire body hurt from the kicks and punches. Several of the soldiers had gotten in some licks back in the banquet hall, but he would return them in kind soon.

The bastards were all going to die.

He just had to hope his friends would survive long enough to give him a chance to free them. Knowing Magnolia and her attitude, it was only a matter of time before el Pulpo lost his temper with her again, and next time, he might do more than smack her.

Halfway down the forty-floor tower, they stopped, and Rhino went inside an exterior hatch, leaving X with the guards.

If his wrists and ankles weren’t shackled, he would have killed them both and jumped into the water below. But this wasn’t his chance, and Rhino returned a moment later with another man.

Rodger stepped into the moonlight and staggered over, shirtless and shoeless. “Damn, X, your lip is all—”

“Get going,” Rhino said, shoving Rodger.

“Hey, easy!” Rodger protested.

“Where are you taking us?” X asked.

“You’ll find out soon enough,” replied Rhino.

As they descended the stairs, X scanned the skyline. Where the hell was Katrina? Surely, they would be on their way now, so what were they waiting for? He was starting to wonder whether they were even going to come.

Of course they’ll come. As far as we know, this is the only habitable place in the world.

Michael and the others would be here. The question was not whether but when. Until then, he would just keep trying to survive. But he wasn’t sure how many more Hammerheads he could take on.

One thing was for certain: he wasn’t immortal, just very lucky. Having a high pain tolerance also helped.

Rodger, on the other hand, could hardly handle a slap on the back. He bitched and moaned behind X, grumbling about this and that.

“I told you to do as they say, X,” he said. “It’s easier on all of us if you do.”

A whistling came from the banquet room, where el Pulpo stood at one of the windows. He blew into the white shell necklace.

The two guards ahead suddenly moved to the outer rail of the staircase to look over at the water.

Rhino remained behind X and Rodger, watching both Hell Divers closely.

“What’s going on?” Rodger asked.

“The Octopus Lords have come for their offering,” Rhino said.

“Holy shit!” Rodger gasped. “Those things are real?”

Spotlights from different platforms on the tower were pointed down to where Hammerhead’s corpse hung by the rope, half in and half out of the water.

The whistling continued as el Pulpo blew into his necklace. He lowered it a moment later as the beams picked up motion beneath the calm ocean.

All at once, several arms lined with suction cups broke through the water, wrapping around Hammerhead’s mutilated corpse. A soldier cut the rope and dropped it to the water as the beast pulled its meal into the depths. Bubbles floated to the surface and then calmed.

“Holy shit,” X murmured.

“The whistle from hell,” Rodger said. “They worship the octopuses like they’re gods.”

X laughed at the notion. “Pretty half-assed gods. I killed one on the way here.”

Rhino narrowed his eyes and reached for the hilt of his sword. “Blasphemy!”

X heard anger in the man’s words and backed up a step. “Just kidding. But I did kill a shark. You guys don’t worship those…” He cringed, remembering the tattoo on the dead gladiator’s chest.

These guys worshipped all sorts of monsters, it seemed.

Rhino kept his hand on the sword hilt. “Move.”

“Okay, okay,” Rodger said.

He walked in front of X, taking the lead down the winding stairway, and X got his first glance at the docks below—the same ones he had passed when he docked the WaveRunner and sneaked into the tower.

This time, dozens of boats were moored there. Dockhands in shorts and sandals loaded boxes and crates into the vessels. They were going somewhere.

He wanted to scream. Without that hoard of ITC-preserved gasoline, el Pulpo would be running a ragtag little band of foragers, doing whatever they could to scrape by. He never would have enslaved X, Rodger, and Magnolia.

But then, X never would have found his way to the Metal Isles and, just maybe, a home for his people.

Not that such a gift would stop him from killing the bastard.

When they reached the bottom of the stairs, X stopped and turned to Rhino.

“I’m not leaving without my dog and Magnolia.”

The warrior pulled the long, curved sword from its sheath and raised it above his head. “You will go where you’re told, or I’ll prove to all these sheep that you aren’t immortal… by slicing you in two.”

The blade glistened in the moonlight. Despite the threat, X took a step closer. He came up only to Rhino’s jawline, and he had to look up to meet the warrior’s gaze. The hoop between Rhino’s nostrils quivered with a loud snort.

“Don’t fucking try me,” Rhino said. “I could have ripped Hammerhead’s heart out in half the time it took you two idiots to kill him.”

“I want to see my dog and Magnolia,” X said. “If we’re going somewhere else, I want to say goodbye.”

“You just saw them when you failed—again—to follow el Pulpo’s orders.”

X grunted. “You don’t get it. I’m not a Cazador and never will be.”

“I said the same thing once. Look at me now. You can have a good life here if you obey.”

X noted a certain hesitation in his voice—just the slightest pause, but there it was.

X said, “You’re not like the others, I can see that. So why do you serve them?”

“Because, like you, I have no choice. And, unlike you, I have come to grips with that fact.”

X took a step backward. He couldn’t get a read on this guy. Was he a servant? A loyal soldier? Or maybe something else?

“Your dog and Magnolia will be fine as long as you do as you’re told,” Rhino said. “Now, keep moving and follow me. The ship sails soon.”

He waited for X to back away before resheathing his sword. Some of the dockhands looked up from their work as X and Rodger continued across the piers. Soldiers patrolled the area, holding spears and rifles along the water’s edge.

Hearing a cranking noise behind them, X looked over his shoulder and up the side of the tower, to where the elevator descended from the upper decks. The glow from a torch illuminated a man wearing a brown robe.

As soon as the gate opened, Imulah hurried toward X and Rodger, but Rhino kept walking. He didn’t stop until they got to the boats.

Two Cazador soldiers holding submachine guns stood by the stern. Another three worked on a large engine. Rhino spoke to them all and then motioned for X and Rodger.

“Get in,” he said.

Rodger balked. “Where are we going?”

“Wait!” Imulah called out.

“What now, old man?” Rhino said.

Imulah stopped, panting. He held up the torch and looked from X to Rodger.

“El Pulpo wants this one to stay. He said he can’t fight and is a liability to the mission.”

“I can, too, fight,” Rodger said.

“Good, keep him,” X said. Wherever this boat was going, it was better that he travel alone. El Pulpo was actually right about Rodger being a liability.

“It’s okay, Rodge,” X said. “Go with Imulah. Look after Magnolia and Miles. Okay?”

Rodger thought on it a moment and then nodded.

X reached out his hand. “I’m sorry I left you on that ship in Florida. I swear on Miles I thought you were dead.”

“It’s okay.” Rodger shook his hand. “I know you tried to save me, but this time you need to worry about saving yourself, Xavier. Do what they tell you. Survive. Rhino is right about obeying.”

X narrowed his eyes at a man who had accepted his fate as a slave. He didn’t exactly blame Rodger or like him any less, but slavery wasn’t for X. After all he had been through, he couldn’t bring himself to follow another’s orders.

Rhino climbed into the boat, and X got in after him. The mechanics finished working on the engines. One of them gave a nod to Rhino, who gave orders to the Cazador soldier standing at the helm.

The engine grumbled to life, and as soon as the mooring lines were free, the pilot peeled away from the dock, kicking up a wake. Several other boats followed, laden with supplies.

X sat on a crate and watched the wake snaking back to the piers and the tower. The elevator was already rising back up the tower, the glow of the torch illuminating the faces of Rodger and Imulah inside.

Watch after them, X whispered to himself.

He forced his gaze away from the structure and back to the water. The light from oil rigs dazzled. The solar panels and gas-powered generators created a nearly endless supply of energy here. X found himself wondering what Samson would think of this place.

The old bastard will love it.

X ran his tongue over the gap where his tooth had been. Between his new injuries and the old ones, he felt exhausted, old, and beat-up.

But he still had fight left in him, and he still held on to hope that the airships would show up. In the meantime, he would complete this mission, whatever it was.

Maybe el Pulpo needed someone killed on one of the other oil rigs, or maybe X was being sent to another arena, to battle another gladiator. Whatever the task, he would do what he needed to do in order to survive.

The boat picked up speed as they sailed farther away from the capitol tower. A half hour into the ride, they had curved away from all the eastern oil rigs.

On the dark horizon, something else glowed. Long and low. This wasn’t a rig. It was a ship.

As they drew closer, he could see that it was a warship like the one he had discovered in Florida. Harpoon guns were mounted in the bow and stern. Flamethrowers and machine guns pointed skyward from armored turrets manned by Cazador soldiers.

This ship was equipped to fight a war. They had even added barbed wire to the deck rails, as X had done on the Sea Wolf.

But these warriors had taken their planning a step further. They had added turrets with flamethrowers and harpoon guns, and, hanging over the side of the ship, a spear the length of a rowboat. X had never seen the like.

The memory of the ship in Florida sent a tingle through his old bones. Then he saw the empty cages stacked in the bow, and another memory surfaced in his mind.

No… Oh, no, God damn it.

The boat wasn’t sailing for one of the other rigs. He wasn’t going to duel another gladiator or assassinate someone who had disobeyed el Pulpo.

Xavier Rodriguez was being sent back to the wastes to fight the demons.