Warriors

SIX

The pebbles of dried blood continued up the stairs. X knew that the concrete stairwell wasn’t real. None of this was. He was stuck in a delirious dream state, trapped like a Siren in a cage, living in a nightmare.

Only this wasn’t exactly a nightmare. It was a dream in which he was following Ada Winslow’s journey to his former home in Florida.

And it was as clear as rainwater. So clear that he felt as if he were actually there. He could even feel his pounding heart.

He kept going up the stairs, following the drops of blood, compelled to find Ada and help her.

The plastic curtain he had used to block off the next landing was torn aside. He slipped around it, halting at the claw marks along the walls.

More streaks marred the floor.

X wasn’t the only one following Ada in this dream.

Sirens were hunting.

He had given her a rifle to defend herself with, but that didn’t matter if she didn’t know how to shoot it or was too injured to fight.

He had also given her medicine, but that wouldn’t matter if she didn’t know how to dress a wound from the poisonous barbed weeds.

But she had made it here, and if she got herself across the ocean in a crappy little fishing boat with only half the needed gas, then maybe she could put down a Siren or two.

He ran up the stairs, determined to find her before the monsters did.

The vivid dream flashed to darkness, then images of the young officer’s freckled features being torn apart by a pack of Sirens, her arms and legs being ripped away while she screamed.

“Help me! Somebody, help me!”

She stared at X.

“You did this to me!” she shrieked. “You killed me!”

X jerked free of the nightmare, panting like a dog.

A scream echoed in the dark quarters. He recognized the rough voice.

It was his.

Something wet and cold hit his forehead. He shivered violently, his body clammy but burning at the same time.

“Ada,” he muttered. “I have to save Ada.”

A deep fog settled over his mind, as if his brain were suspended in tar. He squirmed, trying to break the mental chains.

“His temperature is one-oh-four,” said a distant voice.

“The antibiotics just aren’t working,” said another.

X tried to make out the blurred faces hovering over his bedside.

“Ada,” he mumbled again.

A hand restrained his chest. More figures were in the hallway, where torches burned in mounted sconces.

“Ada,” X said again. “They’re hunting Ada.”

“Ada is gone, King Xavier,” said a faint voice.

Another hand pushed down on his shoulders. The pain cleared his vision, and in that moment of clarity, he focused on the person holding him.

Sloan’s lazy eye glared down at him.

“Sir, you need to calm the hell down,” she said. “You’re burning up.”

“Ada,” X said.

“She’s gone, sir,” Sloan said. “It’s a tragedy, but she chose to take her own life over her guilt. You can’t blame yourself.”

She put a hand on his shoulder, and X held her gaze.

But X knew the truth. Ada hadn’t taken her own life. She was out there, and she was being hunted by the monsters, all because of him.

Sloan’s lazy eye wandered right, to Dr. Huff. Samson was also here, watching with his arms folded over his sizable belly.

“X, you need to settle down,” Samson said.

Something nudged his feet, and X looked down to see Miles there, whining. The dog tried to get closer, but a militia soldier reached out.

Miles growled at the man, who, X now saw, was Sergeant Wynn.

More soldiers were in the hallway, guarding the room. Ton and Victor held spears, trying to look inside. Several militia soldiers also stood sentry with submachine guns.

“Wynn, get out of here,” Sloan ordered. “Unless you want to lose your hand.”

“Ada,” X mumbled. “We’ve got to find Ada.”

He tried to sit up, but Sloan pushed his shoulders down.

Huff said, “King Xavier, if you don’t relax, I’m going to have to give you a shot to make you sleep.”

“Fuck you,” X said.

The doctor stared, incredulous, but Sloan chuckled.

“I think he’s getting better, Doc,” she said.

“No, he’s not, actually,” Huff said. “If his temperature gets any higher, it could affect his brain.”

That wiped the grin off Sloan’s face.

X was delirious, but he registered what he was hearing. He blinked through the sweat stinging his eyes.

For a moment, his brain ramped back up to normal speed, and he remembered the airship and everyone else still out there. Memories of the past few days flashed through his mind.

Rhino was dead. So was Vargas.

Ada was probably dead.

And the crew of Discovery.

“Where’s Tin?” he asked, trying again to sit up. He managed to break free of Sloan’s grip and sat up, his body on fire, sweat pouring down his bandaged flesh.

X blinked rapidly, willing his brain to stay alert. But the fever, the injuries, and the uncertain fate of his friends in the sky felt like too much to bear, even for the Immortal.

He was going to crash, and perhaps this time, he wouldn’t wake up again.

Something pricked his arm.

He looked down at his right arm. A needle had pricked his flesh, and holding it was Dr. Huff.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

“You son of a…”

The fog clouded X’s mind again, and the room began to fade. He slumped back on his pillow.

The voices grew distant until there were no voices at all.

Darkness gave way to light.

He was back in his apartment in Florida, standing in the hallway that led to the bunker he shared with Miles. The door was cracked open, providing a narrow view inside.

Crates of supplies were stacked on the floor, and the windows were sealed with plastic.

X squeezed through the opening and stopped just inside the doorway. From the bedroom came a sound like snapping twigs and someone chewing fatty meat.

Five more steps brought him to the open bedroom door. A beast with skin the color of a hen’s egg hunched over a body on the floor.

It was Ada.

He stood there for a moment watching the beast slurp down her guts. Both legs had already been stripped to bone. But it was her face that most horrified him. The cute freckled features had swollen to four times their normal size, and both eyeballs bulged out.

She had managed to get her helmet off before she died, exposing her swollen neck. The stings from the barbed plants had killed her before the Siren could.

Or so X hoped.

Either way, she had suffered horribly. And it was his fault.

She wasn’t ready to come to the wastes. She had never dived or spent time outside the airships. Sending her here with gear but no skills was much worse than a simple sword thrust.

Rhino had been right. X should have just killed her in her cell.

The Siren suddenly twisted with a rope of viscera hanging from its open maw. The eyeless face tilted slightly and sniffed the air.

Jagged teeth snapped, and the creature let out a high-pitched wail that seemed to go on and on, like a never-ending air-raid siren.

X wasn’t sure when he woke. A bright moon cast a glow inside his quarters. Dr. Huff, Samson, Sloan, and Wynn were gone, but Miles remained camped out at his feet.

The dog nudged him, licking the salty sweat off his arm.

“It’s okay, boy,” X mumbled.

A rattling sound came from the corner of the room, where Sloan sat sleeping in a chair.

X drew in a breath and raised his hand to his forehead. Sweat dripped down, but he didn’t feel as hot, and he could move and actually think in a straight line. His mind reverted to the Ada nightmare.

Miles nudged his arm again. X was lucid enough to know now that the nightmare was just that, but chances were, Ada had already died from some other threat.

X lay back on the pillow and took a deep breath of fresh air. A pressure had settled in his skull, and his right arm felt numb. While his fever seemed to be going down, he wasn’t out of danger yet.

Discovery shuddered and groaned like a dying beast.

Les stood at the helm, arms folded over his chest, watching the storm clouds on the wall-mounted main screen, trying to process everything Lieutenant Sloan had told him on an encrypted line.

Over the past few days, X had taken a turn for the worse and was slipping in and out of consciousness. The fight with Vargas had left him broken and bedridden, and now an infection threatened his life.

Les had decided to keep the information from everyone on the ship. They had spent the night flying with one bank of thrusters and were minutes away from the Vanguard Islands. Once they arrived, he could assess how bad the situation really was, and then the others could know.

“Sir, I’m detecting a storm front ahead,” Timothy said.

The AI snapped Les back to reality. He looked over to the empty chair where Eevi normally sat. Timothy stood in her place while the grieving widow slept.

“Keep us clear of it,” Les ordered.

The AI nodded. “Taking us down to five thousand feet.”

Les sat down in his chair and closed his eyes for a few minutes of rest. He was generally happy with everything they had accomplished, although it had come at a great cost.

Losing Banks and two militia soldiers in the onslaught of bats had added to the deadly mission’s toll. Only one militia soldier was returning, and only two Cazador soldiers from General Santiago’s platoon. They had also lost a Hell Diver.

But the sacrifices had allowed thirty new souls a chance to see something they had never seen before: the sun. That in itself was a victory.

Les had also spoken with Lieutenant Sloan about providing security and a quarantine shelter for the newcomers once they landed.

He hoped the immune system boosters would protect them from whatever new pathogens they encountered.

Footsteps sounded on the bridge, and Les opened his eyes to see Michael and Magnolia cross the bridge, side by side.

“Everything’s ready, Captain,” Michael said. “As soon as we put down, Samson and his people will start repairs on the other thrusters and turbofans.”

“Good,” Les replied. “I want to be back in the sky as soon as possible.”

Michael and Magnolia exchanged a glance.

“Sir, back in the sky for what exactly?” Magnolia said.

“That’s classified for now.”

He had kept his plan to himself, just as he was keeping King Xavier’s condition under tight wraps. They may be returning to a situation that could spiral out of control, and he didn’t want any leaks.

“Classified?” Michael asked.

“Sounds like something Captain Jordan would say,” Magnolia muttered.

Les shot her a glare. “You’re out of line, Katib.”

“Agreed,” Michael said. “I’m sure Captain Mitchells has his reasons.”

“I’m sorry, sir,” Magnolia said. “I’m just used to more transparency from you.”

Les didn’t respond to the insincere attempt at an apology.

She brushed her red locks back behind her ear. “If something’s going on back home, we should know, so we can prepare.”

Les could feel Timothy looking at him now. The AI was the only one who knew what Les did about the defectors. He had translated the conversation with their new passenger, Pedro, before they set down to repair the thrusters.

Captains had kept secrets in the past, and now he knew why. This one had the potential to change the future of the human race, and he wanted to discuss it with X before telling anyone else.

Assuming that X could talk at all.

The hatch on the bridge opened, and Layla walked in.

“Everything okay?” Michael asked.

“Eevi’s a wreck,” she said.

Les drew in a deep breath and sighed it out. The pain and suffering in their world never seemed to stop. But it touched them all, and together they would get through whatever awaited them at home and whatever the future held.

Layla took a seat at a station, and Michael said to Les, “Sir, is there anything you can tell us?”

Les put a hand on Michael’s shoulder.

“It’s X, isn’t it?”

“Yes, Commander,” Les said. “I spoke with Lieutenant Sloan a few times over an encrypted line, and his injuries have resulted in an infection. We’ve been careful about what to share on the radio and on the ship, because if he dies…”

“Dies? What the hell are you talking about? I just talked to him a few days ago, and he seemed—”

“Things have changed since then,” Les said. “I’m sorry, Commander. I don’t know much, but he’s in bad shape.”

Magnolia choked up.

“There’s something else. Two soldiers from the Lion escaped on a rowboat before Ada dropped the container into the ocean.”

“What?” Magnolia gasped.

“Do they know what she did?” Michael asked.

“I don’t know,” Les replied. “I can only guess this is why X and Rhino struck Vargas before he had a chance to rally the Cazador army and mount a coup.”

“With the death of General Santiago, there are only two Cazador officers left in the army now,” Michael said, “and neither of them seemed to like X. Forge and…”

“Bird lady,” Magnolia snorted. “A.k.a. bitch on wheels.”

“We have to be very careful when we land,” Les said. “I need you both to stay vigilant.”

Both Hell Divers nodded.

“You can count on that, Captain,” Michael said.

“If, by ‘vigilant,’ you mean offing bird lady, I’m totally down for that,” Magnolia said.

Les frowned. “I mean the polar opposite. We’re trying to avoid a war, not ignite one.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” Magnolia said.

A blinking light appeared below.

“Captain, we’re closing in on the Vanguard Islands,” Timothy said. “Should have a visual shortly.”

Les motioned for them to join him in front of the hatches.

“Open them and take us down to sea level, Timothy,” Les commanded.

The hatches clanked downward, revealing the storm outside. Explosions of lightning burst through the bulging clouds, and rain pattered the windows.

Les clasped his hands behind his back as Discovery’s bow dipped. A warning played over the public address system, in English, then Spanish, then Portuguese.

He imagined what the new passengers must be feeling: fear, certainly, and anticipation of a world filled with sunshine and sweet air. It would be a drastic change for them, just as it had been for his people.

“We’ve reached five thousand feet,” Timothy reported.

The airship carved through the swirling blue-gray. As it descended, the storm clouds lightened until they became translucent.

“Three thousand feet,” Timothy said. “Prepare for visual.”

The bow exploded through the cloud cover surrounding the Vanguard Islands, and blinding light filled the bridge. The crew squinted into the golden glow.

“Timothy, activate the tint,” Les said.

“Done, sir.”

The sun shield, something they rarely had to use, activated on the windows, dimming the glare. As his eyes adjusted, Les beheld the Vanguard Islands with a faint smile.

The hatch opened again, and Eevi hurried to her station and sat down without a word.

Les turned back to the view.

The oil rigs rose in the distance, and several large boats cut white wakes through the water—fishing trawlers bringing home the catch.

“Timothy, open a line to Command,” Les ordered.

“One moment, sir.”

A buzzing sounded, followed by static.

“Vanguard One, this is Captain Mitchells of Discovery, do you copy?”

“Copy, Captain, this is Sergeant Wynn,” came the reply. “It’s damn good to hear your voice. Welcome home.”

“Thank you, Sergeant,” Les replied.

“The landing zone on the capitol tower is prepped and ready, sir.”

“Copy that. Prepare for our arrival.”

Les moved over to the controls and had Timothy take them off autopilot. He switched off the bank of thrusters and switched all auxiliary power to the remaining turbofans.

“Look at that,” Michael said. “Is that Renegade?”

“Looks like it,” Magnolia said.

“So they finally got it back up and running, then.”

“Kind of,” Magnolia said.

Les watched the warship sailing away from one of the rigs. A plume of smoke rose into the blue sky. The airship swung away toward the capitol tower.

Another warship was down there, larger than the first. This one didn’t appear to be moving.

“That’s Elysium,” Michael said.

Hundreds of warriors stood on the deck, holding weapons. They all turned to watch the airship sail overhead.

“That’ll show ’em,” Les said.

Michael arched a brow. “You planned to fly over?”

“To show the Cazadores we’re back,” Les said.

“Sounds like something Magnolia would do,” Timothy said.

Les hadn’t seen the third Cazador warship, Shadow, during the flyover. Perhaps they had deployed it already to watch for defectors and Horn’s skinwalkers.

The hull groaned, and the deck shivered as Les turned Discovery sharply.

“There she is,” Magnolia said.

Seeing the metal fortress in the sunshine brought a smile to the faces of everyone on the bridge except Eevi. For her, this wasn’t a happy homecoming.

Les knew something of the pain she felt. He had left his son in the wastes, his body destroyed like Alexander’s. He wanted to say something comforting to Eevi but didn’t want to sound like all the people who had tried to offer him condolences and support.

The only thing that would make him feel better was destroying the defectors and eliminating the threats to the Vanguard Islands. As soon as Discovery set down, Les was going to see his family. Then he would start planning to do just that.