Warriors

SEVENTEEN

“Launch the drone,” Les said into the handset.

The mechanics in Discovery’s launch bay released Cricket into the sky. Les took over manually by tapping the screen on the bridge. The drone’s newly upgraded thrusters powered it away from the airship, toward the barrier between light and dark.

The little mechanical Hell Diver had the best shot at locating Horn and his demonic crew aboard Raven’s Claw. The submarines wouldn’t be far from the flagship, and once Cricket found them, Les was going to lob a missile down their throats.

He wanted to go out there with the drone, but taking Discovery into the storms was too risky and would leave the islands even more vulnerable to another attack by the submarines.

“Eevi, you detecting any major storms out there?” Les asked.

“Several, sir. I hope Cricket is ready to take a beating.”

“He’s built for it,” Timothy chimed in.

Good luck, little friend, Les thought. Find us those murdering demons.

Then he grabbed the handset again.

“All hands, buckle in or grab something to hold on to,” Les said over the intercom. He turned the airship around, then waited a moment for the skeleton crew of mechanics and engineers to buckle in.

“Timothy, activate thrusters on my mark,” Les ordered. He tapped his screen. Confirming that all six repaired thrusters were operational, he gave the order.

“Mark.”

“Aye, aye, sir,” Timothy replied.

The thrusters all fired, giving Discovery enough juice to plaster Les against the captain’s chair on the bridge. The airship picked up speed.

Fifty miles per hour.

Seventy-five miles per hour.

One hundred miles per hour.

Through the feed from the front cameras, he watched the gray view of swirling clouds, his heart pounding from not knowing what was happening on the surface.

Les had no idea whether his wife and daughter were still alive. After beseeching X to protect Katherine and Phyl, he had switched off the radio. It would help them avoid detection from the prowling hostile forces and any Cazadores working with them.

At this point, he couldn’t trust anyone on the ground.

“Eevi, sitrep.”

“Scans on the surface are picking up no vessels that are not supposed to be out there,” she reported.

Les checked the monitor again. The below-surface scans weren’t picking up anything, either. The submarines had dived after their stealth attack.

It was nothing short of a miracle that Discovery had gotten away. The airship still wasn’t fully operational, but it was better than being a smoldering debris field on the water. And that had almost happened.

He thought back to the narrow escape. The explosions had happened fast, but Les had grabbed the closest militia soldier and sent him to protect Katherine and Phyl. Then he had rounded up the small crew of mechanics and engineers who were doing final repairs, and they all piled into the airship.

If not for Timothy, the ship would have been blown to pieces. The AI had expertly evaded several projectiles and escaped into the clouds.

“Still no sign of submarines on the sonar,” he said.

Les plotted a course through the clouds, back to the capitol tower. Once again, he was in the sky while his family was in danger on the surface. That was how he had lost Trey. He couldn’t—wouldn’t—lose Katherine and Phyl the same way.

Tapping his screen, Les canceled the course and decided to lower the airship for a look with his own eyes. A white glow from the AI spread over the deck around his station.

“Sir, our orders are to stay out of sight,” Timothy said.

“Focus on the weapons systems and your scans, Pepper,” Les said. “I know what I’m doing.”

“Sir—”

“That’s an order.”

Eevi looked as though she wanted to say something, but she turned back to her monitor.

“Fifteen thousand feet,” Eevi said.

“Raise hatches,” Les said.

The hatches over the bridge portholes cranked upward. Les eased off on the thrusters, heart thumping fast in anticipation of his first look at the surface.

A view of vast blue ocean replaced the clouds. Thick smoke snaked away from the Hive. Tiny black dots surrounded the rig, spraying white jets of water onto the flames. The wakes from dozens of other vessels streaked away from the tower, carrying the injured to other rigs.

Not only the decommissioned airship was on fire. As Discovery lowered to eight thousand feet, Les spotted a vast field of debris from sunk vessels spread across the water.

On the horizon, a chimney of smoke rose from another fire that appeared to be burning out of control.

“What is that?” Eevi said.

Les held back a curse and said, “Timothy, tell me that isn’t what I think it is.”

The AI took a moment to confirm that it was indeed their last tanker, which had been anchored outside a rig. The fire had spread to that rig and was now rising toward the rooftop.

Les wanted to punch his screen. He didn’t even know the extent of the damage from the attack or whether his family was alive, but things looked bad.

He wasn’t sure they would be able to come back from this.

Exhaling, he tapped his monitor to shut down the thrusters, switching to the turbofans and then directing the airship toward the capitol tower.

Discovery leveled out, and cloudy horizon replaced the ocean in the monitor.

Flying over the other rigs gave him a new perspective on the attack. It wasn’t just sky people who had suffered. The trading-post rig had taken heavy damage, and a rooftop farm burned.

The skinwalkers had attacked their military posts, destroyed their fuel, and taken out some crops and water supply.

“This is very bad,” Timothy said. “I’m so sorry, Captain Mitchells and Ensign Corey.”

Eevi met Les’s gaze, but neither said a word.

They hovered over the capitol tower. In the dirt around the sky arena lay human bodies haloed by blood streaks. Among them were pale carcasses of monsters, strewn about as if a tornado had whipped across the rooftop.

But not everyone down there was dead.

“Pull up!” Les yelled when he saw the armored Cazadores run out of the forest.

Discovery lurched away from the capitol tower.

Les studied the monitor, noticing several militia soldiers.

“Aiming the twenty-millimeter cannons,” Timothy said. “Firing on your mark.”

“No, hold your fire!”

Les walked over to the screen. With the Cazador warriors were Hell Divers. Now the king walked out in front of the group and waved his sword.

A radio transmission crackled from the speakers.

“Captain Mitchells, what the hell are you doing?” said a familiar gritty voice.

It was X, all right. He sounded furious, but that just meant he was still alive.

Les said nothing about sending Cricket through the barrier to track down Raven’s Claw, for fear the wrong people were listening.

He simply said, “We came to help.”

“We don’t need it!” X yelled over the channel. “Get back into the clouds!”

“My family—”

“Is fine,” X replied. “I checked in on them personally, and Ton and Miles are with them now.”

Les swallowed. “Thank you, sir.”

The airship climbed higher into the sky as Timothy guided them away from the rooftop.

“Stay in the sky until I give the order,” X growled over the comms.

Warning sensors suddenly beeped across all stations on the bridge. An alarm wailed. Timothy’s holographic eyes widened.

“Incoming!” he yelled.

“Evasive maneuvers!” Les shouted back.

The airship jerked as the thrusters fired to accelerate Discovery out of the path of another missile. But this time, not even the AI could save them.

Eevi let out a cry.

The impact knocked Les to the deck, and the world went dark.

Magnolia gasped for air. She shot up into a sitting position, to find herself on a wide fishing boat packed to the gunwales with passengers. None of these people were looking at her. A few appeared to be sleeping. Those who were awake stared at the sky, where sparks rained down from the side of what looked like…

Discovery. That was Discovery up there!

The boat thumped over a wave, sending a jolt of pain through her. She fought back to a sitting position and watched the airship climb into the clouds.

Some of her fellow passengers pointed. She could see their lips moving, but she couldn’t hear what they were saying. It wasn’t just voices—she couldn’t even hear the motor on the fishing boat.

Pain filled her skull. Reaching up, she felt something covering the right side of her head, which burned like hell. A bandage, she realized. But how did she get hurt?

The last thing she remembered was fighting Moreto.

She looked again at the people who appeared to be sleeping. Blinking, she realized they were unconscious or dead from devastating burns.

A memory flashed in her mind, and when she saw smoke rising in the distance, the memories rolled in like a wave of fire from a Cazador flamethrower.

She was one of the burn victims in an attack orchestrated by Moreto.

Anger and fear gripped Magnolia, and it got worse when the person sitting on the deck in front of her turned.

She hardly even recognized Rodger.

Tears rolled down his ashen face, and blood soiled his outfit. He reached out to her with a bandaged hand, and she took it, choking up as she recalled what had happened.

Magnolia closed her eyes, trying to stop the painful images, but the militia soldier who had died in her arms lingered. Then came the explosion of the cage, where civilians had clustered to escape the violence.

Rodger gripped her hand a little tighter, as if he could sense her mental anguish.

All around them were injured sky people and Cazadores. Imulah was in the bow, being treated by a medical worker in gray coveralls.

Dr. Huff checked a militia soldier with his back to the hull. He was in bad shape, with blood streaking down his black armor.

Huff made his way over to Magnolia and bent down. He pushed his glasses up on his nose and gently held her chin, rotating her head to the left to check her bandage.

His lips moved, but she couldn’t hear what he was saying. Rodger said something that she couldn’t hear, either.

Had she lost her hearing completely?

She reached up again to feel the bandage that was wrapped around her head. Maybe it was blocking out the sound.

But that was unlikely.

She could feel fluid in her ears—not a good sign. Huff checked her chest armor, and glancing down, she saw why. A hunk of shrapnel stuck out just above her heart.

The doctor bent down for a better look, and Magnolia tried to read his lips.

“No blood,” he seemed to say. Then something about armor, and luck.

He patted her on the shoulder, forced a smile, and nodded at Rodger before moving on to another patient.

Rodger scooted closer, his eyes glazed with tears.

It’s okay, she mouthed. I’ll be okay.

She was more concerned about Discovery. If the airship went down, there went their best hope of defending the islands.

Scanning the sky, she searched for the airship but saw nothing.

The boat slowed, and several people got up in the bow. A militia soldier hopped onto a pier and pulled the craft over by its mooring line.

Rodger helped Magnolia up, and the slow exodus began. Some of the injured could make it onto the platform unaided; others were carried. Once on the deck, the worst of the injured were put on stretchers and carried toward the doors.

She put her arm around Rodger and walked toward more medical staff, civilians, and even merchants who had come to help.

Then she saw the armored Cazadores across the piers. She halted in midstride and pulled Rodger back when she saw a stack of Siren carcasses.

No. It couldn’t be.

She pulled back, but Rodger held on to her.

It’s okay, he mouthed.

But how could it be okay? There were dead monsters on the docks, which meant the Sirens had somehow…

Then it hit her. Moreto hadn’t orchestrated just the attack with the submarines. In the ambush, the skinwalkers had unleashed the monsters.

The cage from the rooftop descended to the docks. To the right, a side door to the marina flung open. More Cazador soldiers poured out.

Colonel Forge was one of them, holding a cutlass covered in blood. Mac and Felipe followed him out. They all glanced up at the cage, and Magnolia spotted Michael, Victor, X, and Sergeant Wynn inside.

The elevator finally clanked to the deck, and the men joined Forge. They formed a group and started off for the docks to her left, passing the injured and those helping them.

They hurried toward a dock where Magnolia spotted an armored Cazador speedboat that she had never seen before. The hull sported a black octopus logo. It had to be Colonel Forge’s personal war boat.

Farther off, Shadow, his newly assigned warship, was also sailing, with a small fleet of boats on patrol. Most of them were coming from the direction of the Hive.

She brought a hand up to shield her eyes from the sun’s glare.

Smoke rose away from the Hive.

“Come on!” said a faint voice.

It took her a moment to realize that some of her hearing had returned.

The voice grew louder. “Mags, come on, we have to go,” said Rodger.

She started walking, and he helped her into the long line of injured heading inside.

Another group of people went the opposite direction on the pier, but they weren’t militia or Cazador soldiers. Hell Divers Arlo and Edgar, in their armor and armed with assault rifles, ran past her without even stopping.

Rodger pulled on her when she turned and raised a hand.

“Wait,” she slurred.

“Mags, we have to get you to the medical ward,” Rodger insisted. “Please…”

“Magnolia!” shouted a raspy male voice.

X had spotted her and Rodger. He ran over, panting, looking them both up and down.

“God damn, it’s good to see you two,” he said. “Are you okay?”

“I will be,” she said. “You?”

A diagonal gash across his chest leaked blood. He held the captain’s sword in his left hand and used his bandaged stump to wipe sweat and blood from his face.

“I’m fine and heading out to patrol,” X said. “You two get inside. It’s safe now. We’ve cleared the building of the beasts.”

Wynn stepped up beside X. “Have you seen Lieutenant Sloan yet?” he asked.

“No,” Magnolia said. “Last time I saw her was on the rooftop, at the start of the duel.”

The ringing in her ears blocked out X’s cursing. She winced.

Rodger tried to keep her walking by gently taking her arm, but again she resisted. The soldiers and Hell Divers were boarding the boats, and she wanted to go with them.

She wanted to fight. To find Moreto and get the satisfaction that had evaded her on the roof.

“Please,” Rodger said.

“Get inside,” X said. He patted her on the arm and then ran with his team to the docks. Another armored boat came out from the covered marina. She recognized that throaty rumble—the boat where el Pulpo had strapped her and Sofia next to the exhaust stacks.

“Where is Sofia?” she asked Rodger.

“I don’t know,” he said, “but we have to go. Your wounds need to be treated before you get an infection. I can’t lose you like I lost…”

The ringing came again, silencing Rodger. The right side of her head pounded. Fighting the agony, she mouthed, lost who?

Rodger wiped a tear and spoke again, but she still couldn’t hear him.

Magnolia put a hand on his shoulder and pulled him closer.

Who? she mouthed.

It was hard to make out the response of his quivering lips, but he seemed to be trying to say, My mom and my dad.