Hell Divers IX: Radioactive
Date: 2022-06-21 00:00:00+00:00
Keywords: Fiction; Science Fiction; Apocalyptic & Post-Apocalyptic; Thrillers; Technological; Dystopian
Description: The New York Times and USA Today bestselling series New monsters. New terrain. New threats. Welcome to Australia. The battle for Panama is over, and King Xavier Rodriguez secretly deploys the airship Vanguard to Queensland. The hunt for the Coral Castle is on. The rest of the fleet returns to the Vanguard Islands with new ships and supplies, but tensions rise with rumors of a hidden food cache. When two sky people are murdered, Chief Michael Everhart knows the stage is set for mutiny. And with King Xavier off in search of the Coral Castle, he feels the target on his back. At Panama, a new lead
Publisher: Blackstone Publishing

Books by new york times bestselling author
Nicholas Sansbury Smith

The Hell Divers Series

Hell Divers

Hell Divers

Hell Divers II: Ghosts

Hell Divers II: Ghosts

Hell Divers III: Deliverance

Hell Divers III: Deliverance

Hell Divers IV: Wolves

Hell Divers IV: Wolves

Hell Divers V: Captives

Hell Divers V: Captives

Hell Divers VI: Allegiance

Hell Divers VI: Allegiance

Hell Divers VII: Warriors

Hell Divers VII: Warriors

Hell Divers VIII: King of the Wastes

Hell Divers VIII: King of the Wastes

Hell Divers IX: Radioactive

Hell Divers IX: Radioactive

Hell Divers X: Fallout (coming early 2023)

The Sons of war Series

Sons of War

Sons of War

Sons of War 2: Saints

Sons of War 2: Saints

Sons of War 3: Sinners

Sons of War 3: Sinners

Sons of War 4: Soldiers (coming soon)

The e-day Series

E-Day

E-Day

E-Day II: Burning Earth

E-Day II: Burning Earth

E-Day III: Dark Moon

E-Day III: Dark Moon

The Extinction Cycle Series
(season one)

Extinction Horizon

Extinction Horizon

Extinction Edge

Extinction Edge

Extinction Age

Extinction Age

Extinction Evolution

Extinction Evolution

Extinction End

Extinction End

Extinction Aftermath

Extinction Aftermath

Extinction Lost (A Team Ghost short story)

Extinction Lost (A Team Ghost short story)

Extinction War

Extinction War

The Extinction Cycle: Dark Age Series
(season two)

Extinction Shadow

Extinction Shadow

Extinction Inferno

Extinction Inferno

Extinction Ashes

Extinction Ashes

Extinction Darkness

Extinction Darkness

The Trackers Series

Trackers

Trackers

Trackers 2: The Hunted

Trackers 2: The Hunted

Trackers 3: The Storm

Trackers 3: The Storm

Trackers 4: The Damned

Trackers 4: The Damned

The New Frontier Series (Season Two)

New Frontier: Wild Fire (coming 2022)

New Frontier 2: Wild Lands (coming soon)

New Frontier 3: Wild Warriors (coming soon)

The Orbs Series

Solar Storms (An Orbs Prequel)

Solar Storms (An Orbs Prequel)

White Sands (An Orbs Prequel)

White Sands (An Orbs Prequel)

Red Sands (An Orbs Prequel)

Red Sands (An Orbs Prequel)

Orbs

Orbs

Orbs II: Stranded

Orbs II: Stranded

Orbs III: Redemption

Orbs III: Redemption

Orbs IV: Exodus

Orbs IV: Exodus

Thank you for downloading this ebook.

Sign up for Nicholas’s spam-free newsletter to learn more about future releases, special offers, and bonus content. Subscribers will also receive access to exclusive giveaways.

CLICK HERE TO SIGN UP

Are you a Nicholas Sansbury Smith fan? Join him on social media. He would love to hear from you!

Facebook Fan Club: Join the exclusive NSS army!

Facebook Author Page: Nicholas Sansbury Smith

Website: NicholasSansburySmith.com

Instagram: instagram.com/author_sansbury

Email: GreatWaveInk@gmail.com

Copyright © 2022 by Nicholas Sansbury Smith
E-book published in 2022 by Blackstone Publishing
Cover illustration by K. Jones
Series design by Kathryn Galloway English

All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

The characters and events in this book are fictitious.
Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental
and not intended by the author.

Trade e-book ISBN 978-1-6650-2431-0
Library e-book ISBN 978-1-6650-2430-3
Fiction / Science Fiction / Apocalyptic & Post-Apocalyptic

CIP data for this book is available from the Library of Congress

Blackstone Publishing
31 Mistletoe Rd.
Ashland, OR 97520

www.BlackstonePublishing.com

For my precious, sweet Bella. You may no longer
be at my side, but you are forever in my heart.

“There is nothing impossible to him who will try.”

—Alexander the Great

Recap since Hell Divers VIII:
King of the Wastes . . .

Two weeks have passed since the Vanguard military wiped out the monstrous breeders infesting the Panama Canal. Their young remain a nuisance, but nothing the Cazadores can’t handle. While they hunt down the remaining beasts, engineering teams scavenge the ports, locating supplies that Chief Engineer Michael Everhart needs to restore power back at the Vanguard Islands. Several new ships are also discovered that will replace those lost over years of foraging missions and war. The canal is open, and Outpost Gateway is now the portal to the Pacific Ocean.

But the expansion’s cost to the Vanguard empire is severe with both the sky people and Cazador warriors taking heavy losses in the fight, including Hell Diver Ada Winslow. The Vanguard population is dwindling, with only a thousand total sky people between the survivors of the Hive and those rescued from the machine camp at Kilimanjaro. The Cazadores still number over two thousand, but most are too old or too young to join the warrior ranks.

King Xavier “X” Rodriguez is getting ready to return to the Vanguard Islands, where the threat of famine is on everyone’s mind. He knows now more than ever the future isn’t promised at their home. Before sailing back, he ponders sending the Vanguard airship (formerly known as the Hive) to Australia to search for the Coral Castle, but worries Captain Rolo, who seems determined to stay idle, will derail his plan.

Back at the islands, Michael faces violence and uprising at every turn as he struggles to hold things together until X returns. Meanwhile, Outpost Gateway is facing its own problems, as radiation spikes have been detected in the surrounding jungle, and no one knows what’s causing them.

Every day that passes brings new threats to humanity’s survival. With the islands getting ever closer to starvation, X knows that expansion is the only way to save humanity’s last hope. But not everyone agrees with this tactic, and soon, those who see X as a threat to their interests will make their move.

Prologue

Twelve years ago . . .

At an hour to midnight, Kade Long stood in front of his three sons, zipping up his jumpsuit. They were all wide-awake and packed into the small living room of their two-bedroom quarters.

“Dad, do we actually get to touch the ground tomorrow?”

Sean was only four, far too young to know what was down there or what had happened to the Old World. But his older brothers, Jack and Rich, knew the truth. Monsters were real, and the Old World was gone.

There was fear in their eyes.

In the darkness of the other room stood their mother, Mikah. Kade couldn’t see her eyes, because she wanted to hide her fear from her boys. Like Jack and Rich, she knew what might await Kade. For twenty-two years, she had stayed by his side while he jumped into the hellish wastes. She stepped out as Sean asked, “Dad, are we really going to stand on the earth?”

“Maybe,” Kade said, ruffling his son’s hair.

Mikah moved into the light, and now Kade saw something else in her eyes: hope.

It was something most of their fellow passengers had lost a long time ago.

“Are there monsters down there?” Rich asked.

“I hope not, but if there are, I’ll kill ’em like I always do,” Kade said. He grinned, trying to keep the mood light.

He gave each of his kids a hug and then kissed his wife.

“Be careful, Kade. I love you,” Mikah said.

“Always am, and I love you more,” Kade replied.

He left their quarters with his head down, not stopping to talk to any of the passengers until a familiar adolescent voice stopped him in his tracks.

“Is this what my dad died for?”

Standing in the shadows of the next passage was Tia, the daughter of the former Hell Diver scout Raphael. She wore the turquoise necklace her dad had found in the museum the day he died, three years earlier.

“Yes,” Kade said. “He died helping find the place I’m diving to today.”

He reached out to her, but she backed deeper into the shadows.

It wasn’t unusual for her to reject his help. Tia blamed Kade for her father’s death. No matter how hard Kade tried, he had been unable to fulfill Raphael’s dying wish and look after her in his absence.

“I hope it’s worth it,” she said.

Then she was gone.

Kade wasn’t sure how she knew that her father had died to find this place. Perhaps it was just a hunch, but it was a good one. She was right.

Captain Rolo had ordered all diving missions be classified ever since Kade and Johnny located the maps in the museum that had led them to Mount Rushmore, where they discovered the transmission that in turn led them here.

After numerous dives to secure parts and fuel cells to make the journey halfway across the world to Mount Kilimanjaro, the captain had finally announced the truth: they were heading to a place where the sun still shone.

The trip across the Atlantic Ocean and into storms over Africa wasn’t easy. The airship had gone on lockdown multiple times, with the passengers strapped in their emergency shelters as turbulence battered the hull.

But they had made it here, and now it was time for Kade to go to work. He and Johnny were heading to the coordinates, to recon the surface.

The younger diver who had nearly died at Mount Rushmore was waiting at his launch tube when Kade got to the bay.

“How you feeling?” Kade asked. “You ready for this?”

Johnny smiled ear to ear. “You serious, boss? I’ve dreamed of this day.”

“Yeah, well, don’t be doing that shit you pulled at Mount—”

Johnny shrugged it off. “I told you, I didn’t run and hide. I was right behind you the entire time.”

“Do you even believe the shit you spew?” Kade shook his head. The kid had a problem with fibbing, but he was the best diver they had left, and Kade needed him today. “Just do what I say. Got it?”

Johnny put his hand on his heart. “I swear, boss.”

The two divers went to their lockers to start predive prep. After strapping on their armor, they went over their gear and chutes, which two technicians had already checked. When they were suited up with their blasters loaded, Johnny pulled out a flask.

He took a swig of shine, but Kade declined as he always did.

“You sure? This is a different dive than normal,” Johnny said. “Takes the edge off.”

“I’m sure.”

Kade preferred to have a clear mind on a dive.

Heavy footfalls echoed behind the men, and they came to attention in front of Captain Rolo. This, too, was not normal. Normally, he didn’t venture into the launch bay.

He crossed the space in his immaculate white suit. His boots were polished, and his graying hair slicked back to cover the thinning areas.

“At ease,” said the captain.

Rolo walked to the launch tubes, looking them over and sighing.

“For the past forty years of my life, I’ve come here once a year to look at the tubes that we used to drop the bombs that destroyed the Old World,” he explained.

He ran a hand over an arcing bulkhead, then looked to the divers.

“Today, God willing, I drop two heroes to claim the first habitable terrain since those bombs dropped two hundred and fifty years ago.”

“It’s our honor, sir,” Johnny said.

Kade simply nodded.

“Our sensor scans have come back with promising images, and we’re detecting only minimal electrical storms,” Rolo continued.

“Do we know if the sun is breaking through the clouds?” Johnny asked.

“We won’t know until morning, but we’re dropping you under cover of darkness just in case. If you’re still down there at sunrise, you are to stay put.”

Kade nodded.

“Your job when you get to the surface is to recon the area, but also to take samples of the soil and any water you find,” Rolo said. “We need to know what surface conditions are like.”

He turned and gestured for the two technicians waiting with a supply crate. They brought it over and unlocked it.

“These testing kits are easy to use,” Rolo continued. “Send them back up as soon as you get samples, then proceed to the coordinates we received. I’m dropping you two miles away just in case this is a trap.”

He waved at two militia soldiers, who carried over a locked case.

“We’re sending you down with the last of our ammunition,” Rolo said. “I pray you don’t have to use it, but we may not be the first people to discover this message, and we might not be met with open arms, so to speak.”

“Hopefully they aren’t some cannibal freaks like the ones that got Raphael at the museum,” Johnny said.

The memory of that day surfaced in Kade’s mind. He would never forget the mindless human mutants that had attacked them and torn his comrade to pieces, leaving his daughter an orphan.

“If you do see people, don’t make contact,” Rolo said. “Report back to the ship with all the recon intel you can get.”

“Understood, sir,” Kade said.

Rolo stepped back as technicians helped the divers climb into the tubes.

An alarm wailed, and the technicians finished their final checks. Then they left the room with Captain Rolo and a militia guard.

“Bloody hell,” Johnny said. “I didn’t think to worry about humans, man.”

Kade pulled out his long-barreled revolver and opened the cylinder. Seeing six cartridges, he snapped it shut.

“We got to be prepared for anything, including people.”

He looked over at Johnny and gave him the nod. The technicians closed the lids on their launch tubes, locking them inside.

A cool blue light clicked on.

Kade always figured it was some engineer’s idea, to calm divers before launching them into the wastes. It had never worked for him. His heart quickened in anticipation of what waited on the ground. This time, he wasn’t worried about beasts.

“All clear,” said Rolo on the comms. “Dive safe, and good luck.”

Kade recited the universal Hell Diver mantra out of habit. “We dive so humanity survives.”

The glass slid open, dropping Kade into the darkness. He studied the roof of the clouds as he streaked down, searching for lightning where the weather sensors detected none.

Arms and legs out, he fell in a stable position, watching the altimeter tick down.

Nineteen thousand . . .

Eighteen thousand . . .

As his body rocketed through the blackness, he found his mind wandering back to his family. For their sake, he hoped this was the day they finally would set foot on habitable ground.

Fear took hold as he neared the surface—fear that this was a habitable zone but was occupied by hostile people who wouldn’t share their resources.

He put the fear on notice. If he had to fight, he would, for his family and for his people.

At ten thousand feet, he noticed on his minimap that Johnny was picking up speed. Kade spotted the blue glow of his battery unit plunging through the clouds. The glow illuminated his body, tracking sideways while shooting downward at 150 miles per hour.

Kade bumped on the comms. “Johnny, what the hell are you doing?”

“I saw lightning!” he called back over the comms.

“Son of a bitch,” Kade muttered. He maneuvered into a suicide dive, too, holding his arms against his body. Turbulence rocked him at six thousand feet, nearly sending him spiraling out of control.

Experience took over, and he extended his legs, angling closer to Johnny. Another pocket of turbulence blasted them, knocking Kade out of his dive.

He cursed and bit down on his mouthguard as he fought back into stable position, arms and legs bent at right angles.

At three thousand feet, he managed to get full control, but Johnny was still in a nosedive.

“Stupid son of . . .” Before Kade could finish the thought, Johnny finally maneuvered out of the dive and into a stable fall.

Reaching down to his thigh, Kade pulled his pilot chute. The canopy burst upward, the lines extending and pulling taut. Kade grabbed his toggles and studied his HUD to make sure he was still over the landing zone.

With everything lined up, his eyes flitted downward, but the young diver was out of sight.

Kade searched for Johnny until he broke through the floor of clouds, getting his first view of the biggest mountain he had ever seen. Mount Kilimanjaro filled the horizon, and at its crest, there was light.

“My God,” Kade whispered.

He switched off his night-vision optics and saw something he had never seen before: moonlight, illuminating the top of the mountain.

“It’s beautiful,” Johnny said over the comms.

Kade searched again and finally saw the other diver, hanging in the sky to his right. About a thousand feet away.

Pulling out his binoculars with one hand, Kade zoomed in on the side of the mountain, looking for the green canopy of trees, but he was too far away to get a good look.

He put away the binos and focused on his landing zone. There didn’t appear to be any sign of human activity in the area. No vehicles, buildings, or camps. Nothing but dirt and a river that twisted through the terrain. A quick test would determine whether that water was clean.

“Captain Rolo, do you copy?” Kade said into his comm.

“Copy, Commander. Give me the good news,” Rolo replied.

“Sir, we’re over the LZ and preparing to touch down, but so far, we don’t see any sign of life. However, we do . . .”

“We see the moon, Captain,” Johnny cut in.

“I know,” Rolo said. “We do, too, now.”

Kade smiled.

The comms crackled as he neared the ground. The connection severed a moment later.

Kade toggled over to Johnny, and together they descended toward the LZ, a patch of terrain close to the river. The supply crate was already there somewhere, dropped from the sky during the dive.

The moonlight faded over the mountain, and a carpet of blackness rolled over the landscape, forcing Kade to switch back to night vision.

In the green hue, he studied the desolate terrain. Boulders and clusters of brush defined much of the area around the base of the huge stratovolcano.

The dirt rose up to meet his boots. This was it, the moment he had been preparing for his entire life.

Performing a two-stage flare, he ran out the slight momentum across the hard ground.

Johnny landed less gracefully a few hundred feet away, somehow staying on his feet.

They bent down and packed their gear, glancing about for hostiles while they worked quickly. When they finished, Kade pulled out his revolver and Johnny unholstered his blaster.

“Radiation is nonexistent,” said Johnny, looking at his wrist computer.

Kade checked his screen. Not only was there no radiation, but the temperature was a balmy sixty degrees Fahrenheit. Their suits detected no toxins, and air quality seemed good.

Kade considered taking off his helmet and drawing breath, then decided against it. There was far more investigating to do before that.

They set off across the alien terrain, toward the supply crate, sweeping the darkness with their weapons. Nothing stirred out here, not even a rat or a cockroach.

Still, the vegetation was promising.

Kade bent down and looked at a plant growing out of the cracked soil.

“Hold up,” he said.

Johnny looked over his shoulder.

“What ya got?”

“I’m not sure . . .” Kade shut off his NVGs and turned on his helmet beam, the light illuminating blue petals of a flower that looked like nothing he had ever seen.

Bending down to examine it, he found the petals fragile and soft to the touch. It looked like a flower from picture books of the Old World.

“We’ve finally found it,” he whispered in awe. “I think this land is fertile.”

Kade shut off his lights and stood. Then he motioned to continue toward the crate. They located it a few minutes later, upside down on the side of a hill.

Johnny heaved it right side up, opened it, and pulled out a shotgun. He slung the weapon over his armor and stuffed shells into his vest while Kade holstered his pistol and grabbed the testing kits.

With the kits in his pack, Kade then grabbed an assault rifle and palmed in a magazine. He stashed two more magazines in his vest pouch.

“Let’s move,” he said.

They set off down the hill, trekking over mostly bare ground toward the river. Halfway there, a chirping noise made them drop.

Trying to pinpoint the noise, Kade finally looked up at the sky. A bird flew overhead, chirping away.

If there was one, there would be more.

“Never seen one like that before,” Johnny whispered. “Looks almost . . . normal.”

“Come on,” Kade said.

They got up and continued toward the ravine, toward the sound of trickling water over the next hill. Kade crested an embankment overlooking the waterway. It was just a creek, but the water looked clear.

“Get the testing kits out of my pack,” he said.

“Shit, man, I’m no scientist.”

Kade turned slightly.

“Okay, sorry, damn,” Johnny said. He fished out the kits and skidded down the scree slope toward the creek.

Kade glassed the base of the mountain, narrowing the binos in on what looked like a road.

It was.

Heart thumping faster, he searched the terrain for anything that might indicate human activity, especially anything recent. But he could see no buildings, vehicles, or croplands.

It was dead out here.

“Got ’em.” Johnny scrambled back up the embankment with the test kits. “I took a few soil samples, too.”

“Okay, let’s move.”

Kade led the way, his assault rifle cradled over his chest armor. He ran across the open terrain toward a palisade of trees surrounding the base of the mountain. A rocky headwall formed a second barrier behind the forest.

“The bunker or outpost must be somewhere in there,” he said. “Be careful, and let me know if you see anything.”

“I don’t see anything, Commander.”

Kade didn’t, either, and that had him worried. But he kept hoping that just maybe, whoever was out there lived underground. More importantly, he hoped they were friendly.

Raising his rifle, Kade prepared for anything. He entered the edge of the forest, fanning out to search and collect more samples. These trees looked far different from those the divers had seen back in the former United States. Their limbs had no barbs or spikes, no tendrils that wrapped up prey.

These trees had bark, branches, and leaves that looked straight out of a picture book from the Old World. What with the mild temperature, lack of radiation, and presence of a bird, Kade had a good feeling about this place.

He thought back to his youngest son’s question a few hours earlier.

“Dad, are we really going to be able to touch the ground tomorrow?”

Yeah, buddy, Kade thought. Yeah, we are.

Johnny plucked a few leaves off a tree, then bent down and collected some soil.

“I think that’s good,” Kade said. “Let’s trek to the rocks, then get back in the sky after scoping out the coordinates.”

“Okay, Cowboy Kade,” Johnny said cheerfully. “Whatever you say. Quicker we get back, the quicker we get to pitch a tent and call this home.”

Kade cracked a grin. He was excited, too.

They pushed through the forest, up a hill, to the bottom scree along an old rockslide. House-size boulders and smaller rocks formed a barrier to the next level, but Kade identified a natural path up.

He led the way, moving cautiously and keeping low.

An hour later, they got to a ridgeline with a view over the coordinates. Johnny went prone, crawling on his belly. He was the first to point out gray silos rising toward the sky.

“What are those?” Johnny whispered.

Kade zoomed in on what looked like smokestacks. Moving the binos to the right, he located an industrial building. Four more structures were situated around the smokestacks, all of them covered with camouflage nets to hide them from aerial reconnaissance.

Switching on a video feed, Kade documented everything and saved it over the shared network. No people were outside, but he couldn’t see over the walls surrounding the outpost or whatever it was.

The chimneys seemed dormant, too—no smoke wafting away.

He checked infrared—no heat signatures.

“Looks deserted,” Kade whispered.

“Should we get closer, Commander?” Johnny asked.

The excitement had passed, and Kade detected the anxious edge to the younger diver’s voice.

Kade thought on it, but this was far above his pay grade, and their orders were clear: no contact with anyone, assuming anyone was even there.

“Get the samples back to the ship,” Kade said. “I’ll stay here and keep watching. Tell Captain Rolo everything, show him the video, and let him decide.”

Johnny nodded. He got up on one knee and then patted Kade on the shoulder.

“Thanks for saving my ass so many times, Commander,” he said. “You’re the reason I made it here, where I have a feeling we’ll spend the rest of our lives.”

“I’d never leave you behind, and let’s hope you’re right.”

Johnny took off along the ridgeline to a peninsula of rock. He secured his gear, then tapped his booster. The balloon burst out, filling with helium. It yanked him off his feet and began to pull him over the ravine.

Kade watched him for a few seconds, then turned back to the factory. He switched from night vision back to infrared when he saw two signatures moving through a door in the wall. With his rifle scope, he tracked them moving outside. Both figures were looking toward the sky. They suddenly retreated back into the compound.

An alarm wailed in the distance, oscillating up and down like a crying Siren.

Kade wanted to warn Johnny but didn’t want to risk using the comms. He looked up; the diver was at five hundred feet and rising. Still low enough he could probably hear the alarm.

When Kade looked back at the entrance to the factory, a truck pulled out, followed by an armored personnel carrier.

“Shit,” Kade whispered.

An explosion thumped in the distance.

Kade turned as antiaircraft shells burst in the sky not far from where Johnny was still rising.

“Commander!” Johnny shouted over the comms.

Kade pointed his rifle, looking for the source of the antiaircraft rounds. Muzzle flashes directed him toward a pair of elongated barrels protruding from rocks on the eastern ridge.

“My God,” Kade whispered.

“Kade!” Johnny screamed over the comms. “Kade, what do I do?”

Back on the ground, the trucks had stopped, disgorging armored soldiers with rifles.

“Johnny,” Kade said into his headset. “Johnny, listen to me very—”

Another round of explosions blasted the sky. Kade held in his breath until he saw the balloon again, somehow still rising toward the airship.

“Johnny, tell Captain Rolo this is a trap, an ambush . . .”

Johnny was kicking, trying to maneuver as more flak exploded around him. He managed to avoid the next shells until one finally found him.

The diver burst like a pimple.

Kade closed his eyes, then snapped them back open. In those seconds, his eyes fed his brain what he was still trying to understand. This wasn’t the promised land. Or maybe it was, but someone had already found it and didn’t feel like sharing.

Kade had to get in the air and warn the airship.

He got up and ran along the ridgeline in the opposite direction, keeping an eye on the soldiers piling out of the trucks. Something about their movements seemed off.

Kade took a knee and zoomed in on a metal chassis.

These weren’t soldiers—not human ones, anyway.

War machines.

Now it all made sense.

The broadcast was a trap to lure humans here.

Kade got back up and ran harder than he had ever run before. He started down the slope, tripping and going down only to push himself up and keep going. He slid down a patch of loose rocks.

At the bottom, he bolted for the creek, trying to put as much distance as he could between himself and the machines. A minute into his run, he glanced over his shoulder. He wasn’t being followed.

He turned back to the water, approaching a bend they hadn’t seen on their way here. There was a mound of dirt ahead that he could climb and hit his booster.

A whirring noise sounded behind him. Two red thrusters fired into the air above the factory. Kade could make out the shapes of drones.

He sprinted the rest of the way to the water, his lungs and muscles burning. He tried to focus on his family and getting back to them, escaping back into the sky.

He slid down into the ravine, boots splashing through the clear water, and climbed up the other side. At the top, he reached over his shoulder to hit the booster, then noticed a metal plate sticking out of the dirt in the distance. Neither he nor Johnny had seen it earlier.

“No,” he whispered.

Kade ran over, looking down the slope at the skeletal remains of an airship. Beams and rods poked out of the earth like bones.

He didn’t waste another second and punched his booster. As soon as he was off the ground, he stared up at the sky.

He had to get back to the ship.

As he rose, he saw the trucks moving across the terrain, stirring up a rooster tail of dust behind them. Kade held onto the toggles, praying he wasn’t spotted.

He had made it up to a thousand feet when he heard the drones again. They were coming back down from the sky, their thrusters burning.

Kade tensed in anticipation of their lasers or Gatling guns, but none fired.

The drones suddenly shot up into the clouds.

Right toward the airship.

“No, no, no,” he said.

Kade waited a few more seconds before he bumped on the comms. He knew that the next message would ensure his death, but he was willing to die or be left behind if it meant saving the airship.

“Captain Rolo, this is Commander Long. The location is an ambush. You have to get out of here now!” he shouted into his headset. “Get as far away as possible!”

Static crackled in reply.

Kade tried again.

And again.

Thumps sounded far above, each like a miniature explosion.

His heart sank.

He was too late.

Kade watched the sky with a growing dread as the whirring noise grew louder. Out of the black screamed the burning shape of an airship.

Not just an airship. It was also home for almost a thousand people.

“Mikah! Sean! Jack! Rich!” he shouted.

Kade pulled his clasp knife and cut the helium lines to the balloon as his home and everyone on it plummeted to earth like a shooting star.

At the last second, he hit his reserve chute, just as the airship’s bow slammed into the dirt, sending up a wave of dirt and flame.

Kade stared in shock, not paying attention as the ground rose to meet his boots.

The pain from the impact made him cry out. His ankle rolled, and he skidded across the dirt, wrapped in the canopy and lines.

When he finally came to a stop, his blurred vision beheld the airship, venting fire as explosions burst outward from the hull in multiple locations.

He tried to crawl over to it, reaching out as another fireball billowed out from the ship.

Over his hoarse cries came the clank of metal.

An armored figure stepped in front of him.

Something stomped his back, and he felt another jolt of pain. He turned over and saw his mistake. The figure wasn’t wearing armor—it was made of it.

A metallic foot kicked him in the head, and his world went dark.

one

Two weeks after the battle for the Panama Canal . . .

Commander Kade “Cowboy” Long stared at the overhead of the APC with an expression that King Xavier Rodriguez recognized—a sad gaze that meant he was visiting the past.

X got it. He often found himself staring at nothing, remembering the old days. Old friends, old lovers, old enemies.

Human existence since the apocalypse was a never-ending cycle of doing the same things over and over again, then dying young.

Two weeks after the battle for the Panama Canal, the Vanguard army was raiding one more site before heading home to the islands.

All six occupants in the troop hold of the APC were exhausted. Magnolia sat across from X with eyes closed. Kade also looked tired, but this fatigue was different. It was the same fatigue that X felt no matter how many hours of sleep he got. It was a fatigue of the heart, fatigue over losing people and knowing damn well it would happen again.

Everyone next to X had lost more than one person over the years. Some would lose their own lives, maybe even today. But it was their shared experiences and losses that kept them serving and venturing out against daunting odds.

The convoy of three APCs and two flatbed trucks crossed a makeshift bridge over the canal, racing toward the Port of Balboa, two miles west of the beaches and former resort zone where the main battle against the monsters had gone down.

Their target was a hybrid nuclear power plant that drone footage showed as a promising location to salvage parts. X had waited until they exhausted their searches in the boatyard and the industrial zones along the canal before deciding to make the journey here.

It was far enough from the heart of the nuclear explosion that some of the structures had survived, but radiation was still dangerously high.

Unfortunately, they had little choice. Chief Everhart needed fuel cells and generator coils to get the rigs running, which meant raiding the power plant no matter the rads.

A plume of dust kicked up behind the convoy as it crossed a highway covered in sand and dirt. The Geiger counters ticked higher.

Kade stared at the overhead.

“Commander Long, there’s something I still don’t understand,” X said.

“What’s that?” Kade asked.

“When Ada fell, one of the breeders’ spawn cut her rope and then ducked back into a tunnel. Why didn’t it try and take her?”

“That’s what Gran Jefe said, because he didn’t see it happen. Tia was incapacitated and he was helping her.”

“I know what he said, but I’m asking you.”

“Sir, I was a mile away at that time, radioing Team Raptor. When I got a transmission that Ada had fallen, I rushed back, but by the time I got there her body was gone.”

“So in the time it took you to run back, she and Jo-Jo were gone?”

“Yes, sir.”

“What I don’t get is why Jo-Jo fled with her body.”

“I have wondered the same thing. Too bad we can’t ask her,” Kade replied.

“Yeah . . .”

The beast was in a cage back at the bunker inside the outpost with Miles. Jo-Jo was the only one who knew what really happened—other than Gran Jefe. X didn’t particularly like the big Cazador, but that didn’t mean he was lying.

Still, Ada’s death was odd, and Jo-Jo didn’t just attack Gran Jefe out of the blue. It made X wonder if perhaps Gran Jefe was hiding something.

“You think something else happened?” Magnolia asked. “To Ada, I mean.”

“I don’t know,” X said.

The APC slowed, and he ducked to look out the windshield at their destination.

“This is it,” he said. “Helmets on, everyone, and check your suits—lot of rads out there.”

X secured his helmet and confirmed his suit’s integrity with a tap of the wrist computer on his new prosthetic arm. Kade and Magnolia did likewise while the Cazador soldiers checked their bulky armor.

These were the best of the best. Cazador veteran warriors, including newly promoted Lieutenant Slayer. All the soldiers had fought their entire lives in the wastes.

Sergeant Blackburn was the newest member of the elite Barracudas. A favorite of the single Cazador women, and husband to three wives, he was also known for his prowess on the battlefield. He was the sole survivor of a fire team killed by a colossal breeder that had cornered them inside a tunnel during the battle for the Panama Canal.

“Everyone good?” Slayer asked in English and then Spanish.

“Sí, teniente,” came the responses.

“Good here,” Magnolia confirmed.

X saw their destination through the front viewport. Only one of the cooling towers remained standing, but it was in bad shape, with a broken rim and a gaping crack down one side.

The domed containment structure was in better condition. The three buildings surrounding it had collapsed roofs and missing windows. None of the fences around the plant were standing, and the driver pulled through what was once the front entrance. The vehicle jolted to a stop in a parking lot between the cooling towers and the containment structure.

Kade opened the rear hatch, hopped out onto the crumbled asphalt, and brought up his rifle. The other two APCs disgorged their occupants—over twenty soldiers spreading out to set up a perimeter.

East of the parking lot, six warehouses had folded like cards. Somehow, this factory had been spared from the worst of the nuclear blast centuries ago.

Not a mile past the flattened warehouses, a thirty-foot-tall berm of soil and rubble bordered the bomb crater. Nearly everything on the other side had been obliterated. Technicians and workers waited in the backs of the trucks to start the salvage raid.

“Command, this is Barracuda One,” Slayer said over the comm channel. “No sign of life. Requesting permission to advance.”

“Copy, proceed with caution,” General Forge replied.

The injured general remained back at the bunker with Lieutenant Bromista, whom X had given command of the outpost after Bromista lost both legs to a breeder’s pincer claw.

“Okay, let’s make this quick,” Slayer said.

He flashed hand signals, splitting the platoon into three squads that moved to the warehouses, containment structure, and the adjacent buildings.

X and the two Hell Diver commanders followed Slayer and two of his soldiers toward the main factory building, tucked between the two cooling towers.

They approached cautiously, navigating a debris field of glass and metal fragments.

After clearing the area, Slayer led them around the buildings and cooling towers. A long, low hill followed the shoreline, marked by concrete platforms bearing the bottoms of broken wind-turbine towers.

Barbed red and purple bushes grew out of bare ground, joining the weeds and mutant trees that had taken over the old wind farm.

A message hissed over the comms.

“All clear in zone one,” reported Echo Team Leader.

“Clear in zone two,” said Bravo Team Leader.

“Copy that. Alpha is almost in position,” Slayer replied. “Deploy our salvage teams in zones one and two.”

Switching from his night vision to his helmet lights, X finally located the turbine blades. Three of them stuck out of the ground like long spears, enshrouded in vines, their white surfaces dark and pitted from years of exposure.

“There they are,” X said.

Slayer halted and looked through his infrared goggles. He raked them back and forth over the field of yellow weeds that blew like ocean waves in the wind.

Raising a hand, he confirmed the area was clear.

“Bring up the trucks and equipment to zone three,” he said over the comms.

“Wait,” Magnolia said.

She had worked her way to the base of the hill and crouched near a bush. X joined her and Kade at what appeared to be footprints.

“They aren’t fresh,” Kade said. “But those are from the breeders’ crablike spawn.”

Magnolia followed them around a concrete pad and deeper into the field. She stopped, then slowly proceeded into the knee-high weeds. There in the dirt lay a pile of bones, stripped clean of all meat and gristle. The antlers told X it was some sort of deer.

The skull was cracked open, but he could still see the four eye sockets.

A transmission came over the command channel.

“Alpha One, this is Echo One. We found something in the basement of the factory that you will want to see.”

“You two stay here,” Slayer said to his soldiers.

“I’m coming,” X said.

“Figured you would, sir.”

Kade and Magnolia remained behind with the two Cazadores while X took off with Slayer. When they got to the containment center, workers were unloading a forklift from a truck.

X hurried past, to the buildings surrounding the containment center. A Cazador was waiting outside with a flamethrower. Two more soldiers were just inside the front entry. They went inside, passing administrative offices and the exterior of the command center, and finally came to a stairwell.

X cautiously made his way down the three flights of cracked steps. At the bottom, another Cazador trooper waited, the pilot on his flamethrower burning in the darkness.

Slayer moved past him, and an array of flashlight beams played across a large open chamber surrounding what had been a part of the containment center. Inside the structure, the radiation readings exploded.

The soldier with the flamethrower went to the edge, angling the barrel over the other side at red moss-caked walls and a pool of murky water. Strewn across the bottom were the cracked shells of the massive breeders and their deadly spawn. These were dead long before the Vanguard military arrived.

Vines wound up from the dirt, twisting inside the broken shells.

“Lotta rads,” X said. “I think we know how those bastards got so big.”

“I’ve never seen anything like this before,” Kade said.

“Gross,” Magnolia said.

X turned to Slayer. “As soon as we get out of here, we set up a two-mile containment zone around this area. No one comes back. I’d blow it to hell if I could.”

“Understood, sir.”

On his way topside, X used the time to think about the future. He had planned on heading back to the Vanguard Islands to seek council approval for the trip to Australia.

But he didn’t trust Captain Rolo. The old bastard seemed hell-bent on protecting his people by staying idle, even if it meant killing them in the long run.

X knew in his heart that saving everyone meant taking calculated risks. And he still had enough balls to lead the way.

Outside the buildings, workers were already starting to load up salvage into a truck. The other vehicle had taken off to load up some of the turbine blades. X stuck around for a few hours to help hold security before finally heading back to the main outpost.

The gates opened, and the convoy drove through the base toward the bunker entrance. Lieutenant Bromista, now in charge of security, was standing outside on his new prosthetic legs, a crossbow slung across his chest armor.

“King Xavier,” Bromista said.

He led the way down the long passage that sloped down into the earth. A pair of blast doors cracked open, allowing X and his team into the bunker.

Miles was right where X had left him, sleeping outside the cage where they were holding Jo-Jo for now. The monkey was awake and got up when X approached.

Jo-Jo whimpered and clutched the bars.

“Don’t worry, we’re taking you back to the islands,” X said.

Miles went up and licked at the bars, wagging his tail next to X. He patted his leg for the dog to follow, trying to ignore the whining from the caged animal.

She was heartbroken, and X hated keeping her in there.

He went to the command center, where Captain Two Skulls and General Forge joined Bromista. Kade and Magnolia showed up a few minutes later.

All around them, officers were monitoring the outpost’s perimeter. Cameras provided several views of the canal and the three Vanguard ships docked there.

The mission had been a success. On the deck of the supercarrier Immortal, they were loading up generator parts and bearing assemblies to restore power to the islands and strengthen the rigs. And they had outfitted a new two-hundred-foot assault ship.

When they found it, the ship had been covered in a thick wrap of seaweed, giving the hull a greenish tint when seen from a distance. Someone likened it to the color of a frog, and the name stuck.

The Frog had a hybrid diesel-electric engine that gave it a higher rate of speed than any ship in the Vanguard fleet. X had a feeling it would come in handy soon.

He looked down at the maps. One of Cali, Colombia, where Yejun’s people believed there might be food. It was sixty miles from the coast, which would mean driving in, if possible.

The second map depicted the Great Barrier Reef off the eastern coast of Australia.

While the Coral Castle wasn’t clearly marked, he had hope they could find it with the airship. The problem was getting council approval for that. Something he didn’t want to risk.

Better to ask for forgiveness than permission . . . he thought.

“Sir, the Immortal will be ready to sail in two hours,” reported General Forge.

“Good,” X said. “Transfer Jo-Jo to the ship now.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Where’s Yejun?” Magnolia asked. “Anyone seen the kid?”

Head shakes all around except for Lieutenant Bromista.

“The barco—ship—he come here,” said Bromista.

“What?” X asked.

“We’re restoring the ship his people traveled here on,” said Captain Two Skulls. “It will remain here most of the time.”

“No, no barco,” said Corporal Ancla. The Cazador comms officer had a tattoo of an anchor on her neck—the meaning behind her name.

For the past two weeks, she had helped Bromista get the outpost up and running, and she seemed to know everything that was going on.

X was glad to have her expertise here.

“Yejun in the wastes,” she said. “Visit grave of family.”

X understood then. Yejun was at the site where his family was buried, near the salvage yard. It was the reason the kid wanted to stay here.

Grunting, X shook his head. He wasn’t going to drag the kid away if he didn’t want to leave. It was his choice. Clearly, he had the skills to survive out here.

“Watch out for him,” X said to Bromista.

“Sí, King Xavier.”

“Good luck to you. This is now one of the places that’s key to ensuring our future.”

General Forge spoke in Spanish to Bromista, interpreting for X.

“I die for this place,” Bromista said.

X hoped it wouldn’t come to that.

“Commander Long, Commander Katib, with me,” X said. “General Forge, I will meet you on the Immortal in an hour.”

X said his final goodbyes and led the divers and Miles to an APC parked on the surface. Slayer was waiting outside. He got into the front and drove them away from the outpost—the only one besides X who knew where they were going.

“I’ve made a decision,” X said. “This is classified. Tell no one, not even Rodger.”

“Okay,” Magnolia said.

Kade nodded.

Slayer kept his eyes on the road.

“The fleet is heading back to the islands as soon as the supplies are secure, but the airship isn’t going back,” X said. He paused to turn and look Magnolia in the eye. “After our last meeting with Captain Rolo, I requested to have Timothy downloaded back onto the airship. He will now serve as captain of the supercarrier Immortal, and a second version will be assigned to the airship Vanguard on its next mission. More on that in a second.”

X looked at the divers in turn.

“You two are deploying to find the Coral Castle,” he said. “As soon as I get back to the Vanguard Islands, I’ll be forced to call a council meeting, and I need you two to return with its location to present to the council.”

“All due respect, sir, but won’t that upset the council?” Kade asked.

“Not if you return with the location of the Coral Castle.” X smacked Kade on a shoulder. “Guess you better find it, mate.”

Kade cracked a half grin. “Aye, sir.”

Magnolia swallowed hard when X looked at her.

“Can I say goodbye to Rodger?” she asked.

“There isn’t time. I’m sorry, Mags,” X said.

She swept a swatch of pink-frosted hair behind her ear and nodded.

“Sir, one more question,” Kade said, “does Captain Rolo know you are taking the airship?”

“Captain Rolo has yet to inform me that he wants to remain as captain, which, to me, indicates his lack of willingness to serve,” X replied. “He will be returning on the supercarrier with the rest of the crew.”

Slayer slowed as they approached a large open field where the airship Vanguard was moored by cables. The airship had changed over the past few years since it was called the Hive. But even with the new plates of armor, additional viewports, weapon turrets, and new name, it still looked like the home X had dived to save over one hundred times.

A pair of elevated guard posts watched over it, spotlights raking the terrain for hostiles.

The truck halted, and X turned to the divers.

“You are the best Hell Divers we have left, and I trust you will find the Coral Castle if it exists,” X said. “Before you go, there’s something you should know . . .”

X drew in a deep breath and blew it out.

“I’ve had two nuclear-tipped cruise missiles from the supercarrier Immortal loaded onto the airship Vanguard along with the programming computer and manuals,” he said. “In the past, I hated the idea of arming the airship with the very weapons that destroyed the world, but I’m sending you into an area no man or woman we know has explored. And if this Coral Castle turns out to exist, it’s possible they have air power, too.”

“You would have us fire nukes on hostile forces?” Magnolia asked.

“It’s for insurance—hopefully that you’ll never have to use,” X said. “Besides you, only Timothy knows. Keep it that way for now.”

Magnolia and Kade nodded and hopped out of the APC and hurried off to the airship, passing through a security checkpoint. X watched them go, hoping he was doing the right thing and wishing he could join them.

“Let’s go,” X said.

Slayer turned the vehicle and drove back toward the canal.

Miles nudged up between the front seats.

“Yup, we’re heading home, boy,” he said. “Going to get some vitamin D for a little while before heading back into the wastes.”

But not everyone was heading home.

“Slayer, hold up,” X said.

The young lieutenant eased off the accelerator.

“Do you know the location of the grave Yejun visits?”

“Sí,” Slayer replied.

“Let’s go.”

The APC rolled past the ship where Magnolia had first found Yejun—or, rather, where Yejun had found Magnolia. When the Cazadores finished restoring it, it would join the naval fleet as the Osprey.

Slayer drove over a bridge to the salvage yard. A path took them up to a field of weeds that ran all the way to the jungle bordering the city.

“There,” Slayer said.

He halted, and X got out of the vehicle.

“Give me a minute,” X said. He motioned for Miles to stay in the APC.

Yejun stood in his bird suit in the middle of the field. In his hand, he held a picture.

X walked over. He would try to talk to the kid one last time.

He raised his wrist computer to translate to Korean.

“Yejun,” X said. “I’m heading back to the islands, and hope you will come with me. There is no reason to blame yourself for the death of your family.”

Yejun looked back at the mounds of dirt.

As he did, X checked out the picture in his hand. His parents were in it, but also a girl. This young man had once had a sister. X wasn’t exactly sure how they had died, and he had never pushed Yejun for answers.

Yejun spoke, and X listened to the translation.

“I stay here, with my family. I don’t deserve to leave. I abandoned them.”

X didn’t know what to say to that.

“You were a kid when they died,” he said. “Your family would want you to live in a place of light, not darkness.”

Yejun tucked the picture away and bent back down.

The radio buzzed in his helmet, and the grim voice of General Forge surged over the comms channel.

“King Xavier, we are detecting a massive radiation spike coming from the heart of Panama City,” he said.

X looked out over the city but saw nothing on the horizon.

“Are our teams clear of the power plant?” he asked.

“Almost, sir,” Forge replied. “Alpha Team is reporting movement inside the containment structure.”

“What kind of movement?”

“The vines, sir. They . . . they seem to be alive.”

X’s eyes narrowed as he thought back to a mission many years ago in the wastes.

“Pull everyone back to the outpost,” he said. “Lock it down. No one leaves until you figure out what’s causing this spike.”

“Copy that.”

X reached out to Yejun and motioned.

“Come with me,” he said.

Yejun didn’t move, and for a moment X worried that he would have to drag the kid to the APC. As he passed X, he said something in Korean.

X waited for the translation. His heart skipped when he heard it.

“The evil will never end. Your people should leave before it returns.”

two

Three weeks and three days had passed since the battle for the Panama Canal. The news of victory over the giant crab creatures and their nightmare spawn had come over the radio back at the Vanguard Islands at just the right moment, easing tensions and potentially avoiding bloodshed over dwindling resources.

Chief Engineer Michael Everhart had managed to keep the islands from slipping into chaos, but that didn’t mean the threats he had watched rise up over the past few weeks were gone. He was keeping a close eye on the Wave Runners and Carl Lex—also known as Charmer, the engineer and bartering expert from the Kilimanjaro sky people. And, of course, he was also watching the food stash at the prison rig. It was secure, the secret safe.

For now.

But their fragile home was once again a powder keg, primed to blow from the tiniest spark, by opportunists like Charmer, who seemed to be looking out only for his people.

Or just himself, Michael thought.

Gazing at the horizon, he realized that the spark could come at any minute and didn’t even need to be struck by a human.

Storm clouds rolled toward the rigs, dumping rain.

He was on deck five of the Wind Talker rig, directly under a turbine that stood idle in the wind. Deputy Chief Engineer Steve Schwarzer was hanging in a canvas bosun’s chair at the back of the control panel. It was the third of six wind generators to be restored, and they were about to bring it online.

With half the islands’ wind power up and running, the energy generated and stored in batteries would help them bring back power to critical facilities across the rigs. Soon, they would have the parts and materials from the supercarrier Immortal that would help them get the rest of the turbines working and strengthen the rigs. But as for food, they were coming back empty-handed, and electric power was pointless if the population starved.

Steve engaged the winch and began lowering himself back to the deck.

“Okay, fire her up,” he said.

Michael went into the control room and peeled off his rain-soaked jacket and hat.

Pedro Gonçalvez rose from the chair facing the monitors and the bank of radio equipment, waiting for a transmission from the fleet. The leader of the people Michael had helped rescue from Rio de Janeiro worked tirelessly to keep the Vanguard Islands functioning.

He rose to his feet as Michael walked over.

“We got anything yet?”

“Não, not yet. But soon, sir,” Pedro said.

The door opened again, letting in a blast of wind and rain. Steve pulled the hoodie back from his shaved head and grinned.

“That was great fun,” he said. “Time to test her out.”

“You do the honors,” Michael said.

Steve rushed to the controls like an excited kid. The seventy-year-old seemed to have more energy than Michael and was always upbeat and positive no matter the situation.

“Okay, here we go,” Steve said.

He flipped the switch to turbine 5. The three men stepped up to the windows and watched the blades. They slowly started to rotate, picking up speed in the wind.

“She’s a-blowin’,” Steve said.

“Look, look! Veja! ” Pedro said.

It took Michael a second to realize he wasn’t talking about the turbine.

To the south, the long, dark bulk of the supercarrier Immortal pierced the sheeting rain like a ghost ship breaking through haze.

Michael grabbed a pair of binoculars and zoomed in.

Piles of scrap metal and containers were secured to the deck. There were also the precious, impossibly long blades for more wind turbines.

“The King of the Wastes has returned,” Steve said. “Thank the octopus lord for X!”

Watching the mammoth floating city, Michael felt a sense of relief and something else . . . hope.

“Let’s go,” he said.

The three men practically sprinted down from the top deck to the marina.

By the time they got the boat running, the wind turbine was spinning at full speed, its three 120-foot blades blurring into a single disk.

Michael pulled the throttle and backed the speedboat away from the rig, feeling less anxious than he had in weeks. It wasn’t just their success in restoring three of the six turbines. He felt as if a weight had been lifted off his shoulders now that X was back.

With X here, Michael could return to his engineering duties and life as a father and husband. He might even start writing a book about his days as a Hell Diver.

“Bet you’re glad the king’s back,” Steve said.

“You reading my mind?” Michael asked, grinning. “Hell yeah, I’m glad!”

Steve clapped Michael on his robotic arm. “You’re a good man, Chief Everhart—one of the best I’ve met. But even the best need a break.”

“I’m definitely looking forward to spending more time with my family.”

“Let’s hope X sticks around for a while.”

Michael steered the boat but kept an eye on the Immortal in the distance. It was possible, he supposed, and since he hadn’t spoken with the king, he couldn’t say with any certainty what his intentions would be when he returned.

They had a radio blackout to prevent intel leaks and rumors from circulating about the condition of the military. Only a few people knew the truth about the losses they had taken during the battle for the Panama Canal.

Michael felt a sense of unease remembering intel that Lieutenant Wynn had decoded from the last transmission. Not everyone was coming back from Panama.

Forty-four soldiers were dead, and another fifty wounded. They had also lost Hell Diver Ada Winslow when she fell to her death.

Michael wasn’t sure of the details beyond that.

He was sick of losing people, but the lump in his gut wasn’t just for those they had lost. It was also for those they would lose in the coming months when they faced the real possibility of famine.

As Michael motored past the rigs, he studied the scared and hungry faces of the people living here. The deaths in Panama would give them all an extra month of rations, but the math was simple and stark: if they didn’t find alternative food supplies, they would run out in four to six months, depending on which scribe you asked.

At least for now, they had put down their weapons.

On the way back, the rain died down to a light drizzle. Thunder boomed in the distance but faded away, as a Cazador horn blared from the capitol tower.

The Immortal cruised toward the marina a few minutes after Michael arrived with his crew. They had moored the boat to the dock by the time the massive ship slowed and the tugs got in position to pull and push it into its improvised berth against the heavily padded concrete columns of the biggest rig.

Michael looked to the sky but saw no sign of the airship Vanguard, nor did he hear the whir of turbofans over the cheering from those waiting on the docks.

The people waved as the tugs nudged the supercarrier into place. They weren’t rejoicing only for the sailors who had returned, but also for the supplies they had returned with.

“Tin!” shouted Layla.

He saw her in the crowd, with Bray in one arm and Rhino Jr. in a carrier across her chest. Michael hurried over to wait with her for their friends to disembark from the ship.

“Hey, Chief Michael!”

He turned to find Alton running over, drenched from the rain. The boy slung his long hair back from his eyes.

“Hey, buddy,” Michael said. “How’s your mom?”

Alton instantly seemed to fill with dread.

“She’s sick,” he said. “The doctor is trying something new.”

“She’s in good hands,” Layla said.

Alton looked at Layla, then to Michael.

“Is Cowboy Kade back?” he asked.

“Yes, he should be.”

Alton stood with them as the ferries started to arrive. To Michael’s surprise, Sofia was one of the first people off.

His heart fluttered with anxiety to see a Hell Diver but not the airship.

Where the hell was the Vanguard?

Sofia ran over and started kissing Rhino Jr.'s little forehead. “Oh, sweetie, I missed you so much,” she said.

“He’s been great,” Layla said. She passed Bray to Michael and then unentangled Rhino Jr. from his sling.

“Where’s the airship?” Michael asked.

“I don’t know,” Sofia said. “All the divers were told to take the Immortal back here, except for Magnolia and Kade.”

Michael raised a brow. Something was up.

Sofia stepped away with Rhino Jr., now tucked snugly in her arms. “I’ll find you later.”

Layla smiled. “See you soon.”

Michael watched more ferries carting people and the first of the supplies away from the supercarrier. Scavenged aluminum studs, sheets of green-treated plywood, boxes of arc-welding rods, sailcloth, and a thousand other things were coming off, a crane load at a time. There was no sign of X, and no one seemed to know where he had deployed the airship.

Gran Jefe, Arlo, Edgar, Tia, and the rest of the divers came off the next ferry.

Michael embraced Arlo and asked about the Vanguard.

“It took off from Panama,” Arlo said. “I saw it go up, but no idea where.”

He looked up at the capitol tower with a smile. “God damn it’s good to be home. I missed my girlfriends.”

“They’ve probably all moved on by now,” Edgar teased, “if they even exist anywhere outside your imagination.”

“Don’t be a dick.”

“Don’t be a baby.”

Gran Jefe pursed his lips, making a kissing noise while thrusting his hips. “You both, cómo se dice . . . boyfriends?”

He laughed hard at that, but he was the only one.

Edgar turned serious, and before he or Arlo could respond, Michael said, “I’m sorry about Ada.”

Both men looked over.

“I hope she didn’t suffer,” Layla said.

Arlo ran a hand through his curly locks—his nervous tic—and Edgar looked down. Gran Jefe shrugged. “She die a bad death. Sad, pero it happens in the wastes.”

“She dived so humanity survives,” Michael said. “All we can do now is honor her.”

The divers parted ways, but Michael stayed on the dock with Layla, Bray, and Alton. They hung back under an awning to keep Bray out of the cold rain.

“So Cowboy Kade is not coming home yet?” Alton asked.

“I guess not,” Michael said.

“I better go see my mom, then. Bye, Chief; bye, Mrs. Chief.”

Layla chuckled. “Bye, Alton. We’ll keep your mom in our hearts.”

“Thank you.”

Michael patted the boy on the back, and he took off running. When Michael turned back to the water, he saw a boat with soldiers. In the bow were X and Miles.

“Finally,” Michael said with relief.

The dog leaped out onto the deck. X moved more slowly, climbing over the side of the boat and limping slightly onto the dock.

“I’ll be right back,” Michael said to Layla.

He left the cover of the awning, passing the people unloading supplies or looking for loved ones.

X wore a jacket with the hood over his head, but when he looked up and Michael saw his haggard face, he knew something was wrong.

Reaching out, Michael embraced him without speaking.

“You had me worried,” Michael finally said.

X pulled away and sighed. He seemed about to say something, then reached into the jacket and pulled out what was left of Cricket 2.0.

“We didn’t find Ada,” X said, “but we found this and thought you’d want it back.”

Michael took the computer, looked at the cracked screen. Poor Ada. He hoped the end had come fast for her.

Layla came over holding Bray, shielding him from the rain.

X gazed down at the child as if pondering some weighty decision. Then he beckoned Michael and Layla under an awning.

In the distance, a crane was swinging up a bundle of corrugated roofing off the deck of the supercarrier.

“You bought us time with those bearings and turbine blades,” Michael said.

“Not enough, I’m afraid,” X replied. “We need food.”

He checked to make sure they were alone.

“We recovered two maps—one of an ITC facility in Cali, Colombia, one off the coast of Queensland, Australia, where, apparently, the Coral Castle exists.”

“Wait. It’s real ?” Layla asked. “This is the same Coral Castle of the Cazador legends? ”

“I believe it is,” X said.

“So you’re heading back out there?” Michael asked.

“Yes.”

“King Xavier, we have major problems here—”

“That’s why we must go, Michael.”

“All due respect, King Xavier, but you don’t understand . . .” Michael lowered his voice and looked around. “The sky people from the machine camp have taken complete control of their rig and armed themselves with Cazador weapons.”

X’s eyes narrowed.

“They were mobilizing while you were gone,” Michael said. “I locked down the capital tower and prepared for a fight.”

“A fight over what?”

“For the throne, in case you didn’t come back.”

“Every time you leave the islands, you leave them vulnerable,” Layla added. “By deploying to try and save this place, you also put it at risk.”

“And by staying and sitting on the throne, I put our future at risk.” X snorted and looked down to Miles.

“My destiny is not here,” he said. “It never was. It was simply to find this place and keep it from dying like everything else in this world.”

* * * * *

The airship Vanguard flew closer to a place that no sky person or Cazador had seen during the past 260 years. A place that once attracted tourists and scientists—one of the seven natural wonders of the world: the Great Barrier Reef.

Today, only four people would see it. Technically, three.

Magnolia and Kade joined the holographic image of AI Timothy Pepper in the bridge of the airship. He had regrown his beard and trimmed it neatly to match his graying short-cropped hair.

All the stations around them sat empty, including the captain’s chair.

Standing at the helm was Eevi Corey. The middle-aged XO had joined the mission to help just in case anything went wrong with Timothy. The AI could easily manage all the operations of the airship, but even he could use an extra set of eyes.

Magnolia shook her head and tried to focus. She couldn’t get her mind off Rodger. Once again she had left him behind, and this time she knew his heart would be hurting worse than the other times. But she’d had no choice.

This could very well be the most important mission in her career as a Hell Diver. She wasn’t sure how she felt about the nukes, but if the king thought they were necessary, she wasn’t going to question it. After all, this was an alien land. There was no telling what awaited them.

In a few minutes, Timothy would lower the airship from the cloud cover for their first look at what was believed to be another habitable zone—a place the Cazadores called the Coral Castle, which Yejun’s people believed would provide salvation. The only problem was, the map didn’t give a specific location, and the Great Barrier Reef was more than two thousand miles long.

“Pepper, how long to find this place?” Magnolia asked.

“Two days,” replied Timothy. “X is going to delay a council meeting for as long as he can, but he wants us back in no more than a week. I will need the extra time for the journey back, especially if we run into bad weather.”

“Two days to search nine hundred islands and over 133,000 square miles of territory?”

“I’ve narrowed it down significantly using a complex set of algorithms that I believe humans would consider in building an underwater shelter,” the AI explained. “Moreover, we know there are ITC facilities on three islands, and we will check those first.”

Magnolia remembered the briefing, but it still seemed like a daunting vastness to cover.

“Preparing for descent,” Eevi said.

“Please have a seat and buckle in,” Timothy added politely.

Magnolia went to sit beside Kade in the chairs behind the captain’s seat. She strapped in, eager for a glimpse of the ocean. But before she could see it, the airship had to be lowered through the storms.

The hull seemed to groan through the dense clouds. Lightning forked on the horizon, the clap of thunder following moments later.

“Timothy, you sure this is a safe route?” Eevi asked.

“We are ninety-five percent protected against electrical strikes,” he replied. “If you would rather I—”

“No, keep going,” Magnolia said. “All due respect, Lieutenant Corey, it’s just—”

“I understand your excitement, Commander Katib, but our meteorological sensors are not functioning properly due to electrical interference, and radar is picking up one of the biggest storm fronts I’ve ever seen, just off the coast.”

“Got it.” Magnolia leaned back. “You and Timothy are in charge. I’ll stay out of it.”

Kade ran his finger around the burned edge of his cowboy hat. He hadn’t spoken much over the past few days, but Eevi had tried to engage him a few times.

They were both widowers and had lost a child. Magnolia could tell they were lonely.

A trident of lightning split the sky, the thunder booming closer this time.

Kade finally spoke up. “Mate, I’m not sure your ninety-five percent is accurate.”

“Fear not, Commander Long, we are almost through . . .”

No one had cut the AI off. His words simply trailed off as the airship’s bow pierced the clouds and the front nav lights struck the ocean’s surface. Whitecaps dotted the choppy water.

“Taking us down to five hundred feet,” Timothy said. “Stand by.”

A towering wall of storm clouds stretched across the horizon to the west, the edges blooming with lightning like little electrical bombs going off inside.

“That’s over Australia,” she said.

Eevi stepped up next to Kade. “So this is where your ancestors lived?”

He took off his cowboy hat and scratched his head. “Aye,” he said. “Hard to believe, eh?”

Timothy launched into a historical lesson that Magnolia heard bits of—something about how the ITC Victory launched from Sydney during the first days of the war and eventually made the journey to North America, and then finally to Africa twelve years ago, when Captain Rolo became—

“Desperate,” Kade said.

“I was going to say . . .” Timothy shook his translucent face. “Never mind, I’m lowering toward the first ITC research station, Heron Island.”

Magnolia braced herself on the viewport as the ship jolted. The spotlights on the bow raked over a small island.

“This was the ITC Heron Research Station,” Timothy said.

“I don’t see anything down there,” Kade said.

Thick jungles carpeted the landmass. A light beam found a single structure near the eastern beach. Waves crashed ashore, surging up onto the sand.

“Doesn’t look like a castle to me,” Kade said.

“I thought we were looking for something underwater,” Magnolia said.

“We are, but there could be signs of this place above the surface,” Timothy said. “My best guess is some sort of research station or biodome.”

“Take us down a bit more.”

Magnolia moved back to the viewports with Kade. They were just a few hundred feet above the island, the turbofans whipping the canopy of trees back and forth.

She spotted another structure—just part of a wall and roof. Something stuck out of the ground near the shore on the west side. As they drew nearer, it turned out to be the skeletal stern of a boat.

“Want to check it out on the ground?” Timothy asked.

Magnolia and Kade exchanged a glance.

“Bioscanners aren’t picking up anything bigger than a rat,” Eevi said. “I don’t think this is our site.”

“Let’s keep moving, then,” Magnolia said.

The ship rose away from the island and started over open water. Giant waves slapped against a chain of white islands, which, oddly, weren’t covered in jungles.

“What’s the temperature here?” she asked.

“Sixty degrees Fahrenheit,” Eevi replied. “Radiation levels are increasing, but that’s because we’re getting closer to the Australian coast. We’re only a hundred and three miles north of Brisbane.”

Magnolia went over to a monitor next to Eevi and tapped the screen. A map showed the Vanguard, inching south toward Brisbane.

“Can I see the radar?” Magnolia asked.

“Stand by in two, one . . .”

A blob of red and yellow filled the monitor, with the red covering all of Brisbane and stretching north and south along the coast. Most of the yellow blossomed out over the Coral Sea and farther inland to the west.

“Damn,” Magnolia said. “That is one colossal storm.”

“Brisbane was hit with two nuclear warheads during the war,” Timothy said. “The Australian Naval base, and the center of the business district.”

“Bring on the radiation readings.”

“Stand by.”

A red overlay came on the screen, forming a blob around Brisbane, covering everything in a halo fifty miles across.

“Wow,” Eevi said. “I’ve never seen anything like this.”

The airship groaned from a close lightning strike.

“Redirecting to our next site, at Lady Elliot Island,” Timothy said. “Buckle in. I’m turning the thrusters back on.”

They returned to their seats in front of the viewports. The airship rose up from the ocean, keeping below the clouds.

Flashes of blue streaked across the horizon, cracking like rifle shots.

Ten minutes later, the airship descended again, the beams penetrating inky black. The beams raked over the same white islands they had seen back near Heron Island.

“Closing in,” Timothy said. “You are free to move about the cabin now.”

Magnolia and Kade went straight to the viewports.

“What are those?” Magnolia asked. “Can you take us down for a life scan?”

“Of course. One moment,” Timothy said.

“I’ve activated our sensors and they should pick up anything of significant size once we reach two hundred feet,” Eevi said.

The spotlights on the airship flitted back and forth over the water, exposing the same white patches.

“Bloody hell! I think I know what those are,” Kade said. He turned to Magnolia, then Timothy and Eevi.

“Coral reefs,” he said. “Dead ones.”

Magnolia leaned closer to the glass and stared as the lights shone on the water. Sure enough, they illuminated the bones of a dead coral reef.

The life scanner chirped.

“I’m picking up lots of readings,” Eevi confirmed. “Those reefs aren’t dead, Commander Katib. Something’s down there.”

“Can you take us lower?” Magnolia asked.

“I would not recommend it, but I could deploy a drone,” Timothy said. “However, we have only two left.”

“What do you think?” Magnolia asked Kade.

“I think we need to know what’s down there, if there could be an underwater city out here.”

“Agreed. Launch the drone, Pepper.”

“Stand by.”

Timothy’s hologram emerged between them. He looked out the glass as a drone fired away from the underbelly of the ship. It speared down into the water.

“Bringing up the feed on monitor one,” he said.

Magnolia looked up at the hull-mounted screen above them.

The lights on the drone flickered on, hitting the shelves of dead, bleached coral. The fans turned on, and it motored downward, relaying video feed of an underwater world that took Magnolia’s breath away.

“Crikey,” Kade breathed.

Patches of gold and green danced in the water—corals, filtering food from the current. A meaty purple fish darted through the drone’s feed.

A bigger fish came up alongside and studied the drone for a moment before swimming away.

The drone dipped into a ravine between walls of coral, where a shoal of golden fingerlings moved as one. The cloud suddenly exploded as another fish burst through, opening its oversized mouth and sucking in dozens of the smaller fish.

It slammed into the drone, knocking it off balance, but the feed remained solid. Timothy guided the drone deeper, capturing the elongated body of an eel as it snaked through a fissure in the coral.

“It’s an entire ecosystem,” Magnolia said.

“Fascinating,” Timothy said.

A rock on the bottom of the ocean suddenly rose up and flapped, discarding the sand and grit that had covered a scaly body.

“Timothy,” Magnolia said.

“I see it,” he said. “That’s a manta ray, I think. Normally they don’t have scales.”

The massive creature flapped up toward the drone, its cavernous mouth open wide. Timothy maneuvered away, bubbles bursting across the view.

The drone burst through the surface a moment later, back into the sky.

“Let’s keep moving,” Magnolia said. “Clock’s ticking.”

The airship swung around and roved southward.

A few minutes later, a small island bisected by an airstrip came into view. Dense jungle lined the shore, but a lighthouse showed over the trees.

Timothy piloted the airship toward the eastern side of the island.

“Did you see that?” Kade asked.

“See what?” said Magnolia.

“The lighthouse,” he said. “I think it just blinked.”

Magnolia stared. Memories of the Cazador lighthouses surfaced in her mind, but there was no evidence the Cazadores had ever come halfway around the world.

Her eyes widened a moment when the lighthouse winked again. There was no denying it.

She turned away, snapping into action.

“Timothy, take us to one thousand feet and shut off all exterior lights,” Magnolia ordered. “Kade, meet me in the launch bay. We’re checking this out.”

three

A full moon illuminated the rigs across the Vanguard Islands. A crowd was gathering on the capitol tower.

The night after the fleet returned to the Vanguard Islands, Rodger Mintel joined the large group at the rooftop paying their respects to those killed in the battle for the Panama Canal.

The memorial would be quick; there was much work to be done. Most of the citizens not assembled here were already putting up newly scavenged metal to restore their homes. Salvaged plastic buckets, warped with age, were scattered across balconies to collect rainwater.

In the distance, tiny glows flickered on oil rigs, where construction crews welded vital parts brought back from the Panama Canal.

It was a reminder that the lives lost on that voyage were not lost in vain.

Rodger looked away from the distant rigs to the star-studded sky.

Somewhere out there, Magnolia was on a mission in the airship Vanguard with Kade. He didn’t know where or when she would be back, only that she had left over a week ago without saying goodbye.

His heart ached as it always did when she left, but he was starting to realize that no matter what they did to save their home, their lives might not ever be what he wanted them to be.

At nine o’clock, Cazador horns blared to kick off the ceremony.

Rodger stayed near the back of the crowd that consisted of Hell Divers, soldiers, and family members of the deceased. Jorge “Gran Jefe” Mata, the last to see Ada alive, was among them.

He was easily the biggest man in the crowd. A fly buzzed around his pointy Mohawk. In a surprisingly swift movement, he reached up, caught it, and popped it into his mouth. Hell Divers Edgar Cervantes and Arlo Wand looked over.

“Gross,” Arlo said.

Gran Jefe chuckled. “How do you say ‘nutritivo’ in English?”

“Nutritious,” Edgar Cervantes said.

“Sí, sí.” Gran Jefe ran his tongue over sharpened teeth.

Clanking metal rose to a din across the rooftop, and voices carried on the breeze.

An entourage of Vanguard soldiers approached with torches, leading King Xavier Rodriguez, who wore the crown on his grizzled head. Miles trotted proudly, tail up, beside him.

Rodger didn’t see Ton and Victor, and now that he thought about it, he hadn’t seen them since X had arrived. Normally they would be escorting the king and guarding his every step. Perhaps Michael, who had been assigned the guards, had them working on something more important in the moment.

Letting the thought go, Rodger watched X walk to the rail overlooking the water. Drifting away from the capitol tower was a single wooden boat filled with the recovered remains.

Rodger had heard that a bone was removed from each corpse and placed in the boat—a Cazador tradition.

Not all those killed in Panama were Cazadores. Several sky people from the machine camp had also perished in the battle and were being buried on the rooftop, where their bodies would nourish the forest.

It was their old-world tradition.

There was nothing left of Ada to burn or bury besides a few items that Kade had found when searching for her body.

Rodger was going to miss her. She had endured so much over the past couple of years, made a terrible mistake, and lost her life trying to atone for it.

I’m sorry, Ada, he thought.

King Xavier turned away from the rail, a torch illuminating his scarred face. His graying hair fluttered as his gruff voice carried on the wind.

“Tonight, we honor those we lost,” he said. “Let us bow our heads and remember who gave their lives for our home.”

Everyone around Rodger looked down for a few moments of silence. His mind wandered back to Magnolia, wondering where she was and what she was doing. As much as he missed her, he would rather her be on a mission than truly gone, like Ada and the others.

He would see Magnolia again. He had faith in that.

“We all have lost many friends and family members over the course of our lives,” X said. “It never gets easier, and we all know that more of us will die, but we must never give up fighting for our species’ survival and building a better world for our children.”

He looked at Michael and Layla, who held Bray in her arms, and Sofia, cradling Rhino Jr.

“Many of us have been given a second chance at life thanks to some of those we honor tonight,” X continued. “People who believed as I do, that this place is worth dying for.”

He nodded at an archer, who nocked an arrow to his longbow. A second Cazador soldier held up a torch to ignite the arrow.

The archer drew back the bowstring and released the arrow into the sky. The flaming bolt arced over the water.

Everyone surged forward toward the railing to watch the boat ignite and burst into flames. Rodger stepped up to Michael, who turned slightly.

“How you doing, Rodge?” he asked.

“Okay.”

“You hear anything from Mags yet?”

“No.”

“I’m sure she’s okay.”

Rodger stared out over the water. Flames licked the boat, consuming it. A Cazador horn blared in the distance—another custom, summoning their octopus lord.

It wasn’t long before tentacles rose out of the water and pulled the frail boat down into the depths. Steam and smoke drifted away from the rippling surface, and the ocean smoothed out as if nothing had been there only moments ago.

X walked over to the open graves where the dead were already laid in the ground.

“Would anyone like to say anything?” X asked.

A man wearing an eye patch stepped out of the group.

It was Charmer. He stood next to Captain Rolo, who stared at the graves in silence.

“I would like to say something,” Charmer said.

Rolo finally looked up and nodded.

“Tonight, we bury three of our own who lost their lives fighting for this miracle on earth,” Charmer said. “We promise never to forget this sacrifice and will always remember them.”

He recited their names and gave a bit of history about each of them. Rodger noticed Rolo glaring at X now, his lip curled up in an angry snarl.

“We owe them more than a promise to keep their memories alive and not take things for granted,” Charmer said. “We owe them a promise that their sacrifice will not be in vain and that we will make the best decisions for their families and friends moving forward.”

Captain Rolo stepped forward, throwing a stern gaze X’s way.

“That means making sure that where we go from here does not risk our lives or valuable assets on a pipe dream—” said Rolo.

“This is not the time to discuss strategy,” X growled. “We will have a council meeting for that.”

“When?”

“Soon, when we’re ready.”

“Seems like you’re stalling, King Xavier, and with all due respect, you never called a council meeting before deploying the airship.”

X walked over, stopping a foot from the captain.

“The airship has been deployed to a classified location on my orders,” he said. “You can continue speaking about those you lost, but I warn you, this is not the platform for airing your grievances.”

“You’ve made yourself clear.” Rolo straightened. “In more than one way.”

“Anything else?”

Charmer caught X’s glare before melting back into the crowd.

Rolo looked down at the graves and then pulled something from his pocket. He walked over and tossed it into the middle grave. He remained there a moment before motioning for his people to follow.

Not everyone seemed to share the same anger toward X. Many of them nodded before leaving, showing their respect to the man who had helped bring them to this place.

“Assholes,” Michael whispered through clenched teeth. “Ungrateful assholes.”

Rodger watched the captain and his right-hand man as they departed. They seemed to dislike X more than any of the Cazadores.

“Better keep an eye on them,” Rodger said quietly.

Michael snorted. “Oh, I am. Believe me on that.”

“See ya later.”

As Rodger started to leave with the rest of the crowd, X called out to him.

“Rodge, wait up,” he said. “You, too, Michael.”

Rodger tried not to limp as he walked over with Michael. He wanted to appear strong and able, as though he could still do something. He had already missed out on the deputy chief position, and the biggest thing he had accomplished was painting “Immortal” on the hull of the supercarrier.

He wanted something to do, something honorable.

X led them into the fruit trees, out of earshot, out of view. He stopped in front of the grave of the Hell Diver they had found on the supercarrier.

Rodger noticed a single figure across the rooftop, standing where the archers had fired their arrows into the water.

The wide shoulders and Mohawk confirmed it was Gran Jefe. The big man stood with his arms folded over his chest, staring down at the water.

Rodger looked away, thinking nothing of it. King Xavier was on one knee, whispering a few words, perhaps a prayer to the grave.

Then he stood and looked at Michael and Rodger in turn.

“I need your help,” he said. “Gather your gear, including a radiation suit, and meet me in the marina at midnight. There’s something we need to do.”

* * * * *

“What the Siren shit is this?” X asked. “I asked for something discreet, not a scow.”

Michael and Rodger checked out the boat they had lowered from a hoist into the water. The ancient flat-bottomed landing craft was a retrofit job. At some point, the Cazadores had added a roof to make it a troop transport. X could only imagine the raiding missions this vessel had once made into the wastes.

Judging by the rust, it had been through hell and back.

“On the bright side, who would look for a king riding on this?” Michael asked.

“That doesn’t mean I want to sink,” X replied.

“It’s fine, trust me,” Rodger said. “Steve and I checked it out.”

“Good enough, then,” X said. “Let’s ride, gentlemen.”

His nerves were finally calming some. He had been fuming ever since his conversation on the rooftop with Captain Rolo and Rolo’s right-hand man, Charmer. Now he realized the powder keg he had left Michael to deal with. And he was running out of time to call a council meeting. But the airship Vanguard still wasn’t back, and he was starting to worry.

X shook off his disquiet to focus on tonight’s mission. The men took a ladder up to the small cabin in the bow.

X noticed the wrist computer on Michael’s robotic arm.

“You fixed Cricket?” he asked.

Michael held up the newly replaced screen. “Just the screen so far. Some of the bioscan features aren’t working, but I’ll get ’em up and running and soon Cricket will be 3.0. Better than ever.”

X grinned, reminded of the young boy who was always fixing robots and playing with tools. Grabbing the rungs, he climbed up inside the cabin to find someone already at the controls. At first, he didn’t recognize the deputy chief engineer in the bright-green radiation suit.

“King Xavier,” Steve said.

X looked to Michael as he climbed up.

“Don’t worry, we can trust him,” Michael said. “And he already knows about where we’re going.”

“How do you know where we’re going?” X asked.

“A hunch that we’re heading to the prison rig.”

“You’re smart, you know that?”

Michael grinned.

“Prison rig?” Rodger asked.

X filled him in about the food they had hidden there. Besides the people on this boat, only Wynn, Ton, and Victor knew.

“Wow,” Rodger said. “Good to know we have some insurance if things get really bad.”

“Beats cannibalism, that’s for sure,” Steve said in a serious tone.

X looked at him.

“Don’t worry, King Xavier, I never partook—ended up serving a stint at the prison rig because of it. I’ll tell you about it if you want, but I hope you know I would never betray you or your people. And I love this kid like a son.”

X did, too, though he didn’t really like having Steve along. But he already knew their destination, so what would be the point in booting him? Perhaps this was a good chance to get to know him better and use his expertise.

“Okay, let’s go,” X said.

Steve fired up the dual 200-horsepower engines.

Miles sat on his haunches beside X, wagging his tail at the prospect of a late-night adventure.

X grabbed night-vision goggles out of his backpack and pulled them on. Then he switched off all the lights on the boat and cranked a window open, letting in the fresh breeze.

The boat chugged out of the marina just after midnight. X kept clear of the rigs and left the lights off. A fishing trawler sailed a mile out—the only vessel of any kind X saw on the open water.

He pushed the throttle down. He had missed the salty, cool wind on his face.

“Tell me what happened when I was gone,” X said to Michael. “In detail.”

Michael shook his head. “One word: Charmer.”

X snorted. “He’s a smarter version of Captain Rolo. The ungrateful pricks think they can do a better job, then perhaps they should challenge me to a duel in the Sky Arena.”

“That is one way to deal with it,” Steve said.

“I’m joking . . . sort of.”

X wanted to avoid violence if he could, but from what Michael explained over the next hour, Charmer and some of the Kilimanjaro sky people were arming themselves for a fight.

“One they can’t win,” X said.

“Should we confiscate the weapons they bartered for with the Wave Runners?” Michael asked.

X shook his head. “No, but the militia stays on that rig, and the law will be followed. If Charmer breaks it, he’ll pay.”

An hour later, they were on the eastern edge of the Vanguard Islands, preparing to slip through the invisible wall that separated them from the storms.

The rain started before they pierced the barrier. A few minutes later, one of the engines sputtered, coughing out smoke.

X closed the front window. “Someone go check that engine,” he said.

“I’ll do it,” Steve said.

Michael went with him, but Rodger remained.

“King Xavier, can I ask you something?” he said.

“Magnolia’s on a mission,” X replied. “Don’t worry, she’s with Kade and she’ll be fine.”

“When will she be back?”

“Soon. Try not to worry; she can take care of herself.”

“She didn’t even say goodbye.”

“She wanted to. I said no.”

“Really?” Rodger brightened a little as he pushed his glasses up on his nose.

“Yeah, Rodge, she cares about you.”

The hatch opened, and Steve stepped back inside.

“She’s old, but she’ll hold,” he said.

Michael also walked in, shutting the hatch behind them.

“Sounds like something Michael would say about me,” X said with a chuckle.

The other men laughed as X steered into the chop.

Almost an hour later, waves were crashing over the bow, rainwater falling down the windows and blurring the view. X checked the cracked navigation dashboard. They were only ten or fifteen minutes away from the prison rig.

“Get Victor on the comms,” X said.

Michael raised Cricket to his mouth. “Victor, do you copy, over?”

Static crackled from the device.

Michael tried once more before finally lowering his arm.

“It could be the storms, but I don’t think it’s Cricket’s radio,” he said. “I already fixed that part.”

X searched the dark horizon for the metal castle that the Cazadores had used for a prison and an ammunition factory. Victor and Ton were there, camped out to protect the supplies.

The rain was letting up some, but visibility was still low.

X pushed the NVGs up and waited for a lightning flash.

A dazzling blue arc pierced the sky, capturing the round top of the tower in its glow.

Michael tried the radio again, getting nothing.

“Get ready,” X said.

Michael unslung his laser rifle and checked the battery.

After securing his helmet, X steered the boat toward the marina beneath the rig. The slips were all empty, not a boat in sight.

That was good, but it didn’t mean everything was fine.

“Take over,” X said to Steve.

X unbuttoned the hatchet’s keeper thong on his duty belt, tightened the strap on his laser rifle, and prepared to dock.

Michael handed Steve a pistol, and Rodger loaded two double-aught shells into his blaster.

Steve guided the boat up to the dock. Michael hopped out and moored them bow and stern.

With the boat secure, the four men and dog moved toward a hatch at the bottom of the rig. It opened to an interior stairwell.

“I’ll take point,” Michael said.

“No, I will,” X said. “Miles, let’s go.”

He shouldered his rifle and followed the dog inside. Water dripped from the ceiling.

X turned on his helmet lights to guide them up the winding stairs. Three flights up, he stopped at a landing with a secure hatch.

Michael pulled out a key and inserted it into the lock. The metal groaned as X pushed the hatch open to the bottom floor of the old prison. The central guard tower rose up through the ring of cells that made up each floor.

X turned his beams upward, flitting them across filthy windows and rusted metal until they hit the top platform, where the ammunition was once made.

It had been a chore in hell hauling all the food up there.

He considered calling out to Victor and Ton, but he didn’t see any sign of them at the top. The entire floor was dark, not so much as a candle anywhere.

“Michael, you and Steve take the right stairs,” said X. “I’ll head left with Rodge and Miles.”

Rodger limped over to X, his prosthetic foot clanking with every other step.

“On second thought, you better sta—” X began to say.

“No, I want to come,” Rodger said. “I can be quiet.”

X grumbled but gave in.

They started up the long stairway to the top floor with Miles on point. Rodger was doing a better job, and the thunder outside helped mask their noise.

Each step, X felt his stomach churn with worry. What if Charmer and his entourage had discovered this place? What if they had used the weapons from the Wave Runner trade to take it over and kill Ton and Victor?

He shook the thought away.

At the top landing, he said to Rodger, “Open the hatch, then cover me.” Rodger managed to get the door open, and they strode out onto the top platform that circled the central tower.

Outside the enclosed top level, they entered through a hatch on the platform. Michael and Steve already had their beams on it.

Hearing and seeing no sign of Victor and Ton made X uneasy, especially when he saw mud tracks on the platform leading toward the double doors that prisoners once filed through.

X motioned to Michael, who nodded back.

They approached on both sides, rifles up.

Michael stopped outside the right door, and X saw that it was open. Miles growled a warning just as X burst inside, sweeping his lights over the stacked barrels of food.

Two cries rang out, and X saw Michael and Steve go down under nets. X didn’t have time to react before he was yanked upward by a noose around his foot.

He hung there a moment, dangling from the overhead, his lights flitting back and forth as Miles barked furiously at him.

“Friendly, friendly!” Michael shouted.

X reached for his knife to cut himself free but stopped when he saw a dark figure below him, holding a spear. Miles had backed down and sniffed the person.

“Victor,” X realized with a grunt.

“I’m so sorry, my King,” he said. “We did not know you were coming, and when we saw the boat, we prepared for battle.”

X cut himself free and landed on his feet in front of the spearman. Ton ran over, also holding a spear, and bowed. Miles sniffed him next, then wagged his tail.

They both went down on one knee.

“Ah, hell, get up,” X said.

He pounded his chest, saluting the two warriors. They both got up and went to free Steve and Michael from the nets.

“Help,” came a voice behind them.

X hurried over to Rodger, hanging by his prosthetic foot.

With everyone on the deck, X went to check the food. He saw the pads Victor and Ton had been sleeping on, and buckets of water. There was a table with neatly organized rations.

Victor lit a candle.

“It’s good to see you, King Xavier,” he said. “Welcome home.”

“Good to see you, too,” said X, “but we don’t have time for chitchat. We need to move the food again.”

From his backpack he pulled out a rolled map of the Virgin Islands and surrounding island groups.

“Steve, maybe you can help,” X said. “I’m looking for a place to move the food.”

Steve put on his glasses and took the map, studying it with his good eye for a few moments.

“We’ve raided everything out there and abandoned our old outposts. But there’s one place that might still work.”

He pointed at the small island of Sint Eustatius, not far from Saba, where they had kept the supercarrier Immortal hidden for a year.

“There’s an abandoned oil plant there,” Steve explained. “I was stationed there when I was twenty years old. A lifetime ago, but I still remember it well. We trained in that area, and some of the silos should still be intact—perfect place to stash the food. I know just the one.”

“That was fifty years ago,” X said.

“When I was there last, yes, but other Cazadores have been there in the past decade, so I think it’s worth a shot.”

X studied the map. “What about radiation?”

“Minimal.”

“Beasts?”

“Not anymore; we killed them all. Poisonous plants and these little tree vipers are your biggest worry.”

X checked with Michael, who nodded.

Miles wagged his tail in approval.

“Okay,” X said. “Victor, Ton, where’s your boat?”

“We brought it into the marina,” Victor said.

“Good. We’ll need it. Hopefully, we can fit all this in just one load.”

X didn’t like it, but they had to get the food moved before someone found it here. Especially after the story Michael and Steve had told him about Charmer and the sky people from Kilimanjaro.

“Let’s get moving, then,” X said. “We’ll be home by sunrise and no one will even know we were gone.”

four

The airship Vanguard hovered at two thousand feet above Lady Elliot Island. Kade crouched at the edge of the launch-bay door, watching the blinking lighthouse. At first, he wasn’t sold on having nukes aboard the airship, but now he was starting to like the idea of insurance in case they encountered a hostile airship or a warrior society like the Cazadores.

“Crikey,” he breathed as he stared at the lighthouse.

“We have to check it out, but it could be a trap,” Magnolia warned. “The Cazadores used lighthouses to lure monsters—people, too.”

Kade finished loading a bandolier around his leg with shotgun shells for his blaster.

“I’m ready, mate, for anything.”

Magnolia palmed a magazine into her rifle. “Timothy, get us into position over that airstrip. That’s our DZ.”

“Copy that, Commander Katib. Moving into position.”

The AI steered the ship over the center of the island.

“Be careful; you’re going to hit some heavy winds,” Eevi said over the comms.

“We dive so humanity survives,” Magnolia rattled off, not feeling it.

Kade had never really liked the motto much, but he repeated it anyway.

Magnolia jumped out, arms and legs spread in a hard arch. The strong wind took her and she vanished into the darkness.

Kade went next, diving headfirst. He maneuvered into stable position.

At this altitude, the fall would last only twenty seconds, but it gave him plenty of time to observe the island and the reefs surrounding it.

Turning off his night vision, he used the next slash of lightning to see.

And what a sight it was, in all directions.

Bone-white reefs formed islands in the water, but beneath them he could already see the vibrant ecosystem that had not just survived but thrived.

Below him, Magnolia pulled her chute. The canopy bloomed, exploding upward and past him as he fell.

Reaching for his pilot chute, Kade did the same, the lines coming taut and bracing his fall. He grabbed the toggles and steered over toward Magnolia as she sailed toward the landing strip. The wind slammed into them, knocking them toward the jungle.

Kade scanned the canopies for hostiles, but there was hardly time before he had to raise his legs. He flared right as a gust of wind hit him, knocking him off balance. His right boot landed at an angle, and he went down, sliding side-wind across the dirt in a tangle of lines and chute.

He pulled the canopy away from his visor to see Magnolia rushing over.

“You okay?” she yelled.

He sat up, and pain stabbed his ankle.

“Ah, bloody hell,” he said.

Magnolia finished packing up her chute and made her way over.

“You hurt?” she asked.

Kade shook his head and pushed himself up, wincing at the pain shooting up his leg.

“Kade,” Magnolia persisted.

“I’ll be fine,” he insisted.

She turned her visor to him, eyes studying him from behind the mirrored glass. Then she turned with her rifle and set off to hold security.

He bent down and packed up his chute.

A few minutes later, they were making their way off the airfield, into the jungle. His ankle hurt, but the pain was already subsiding, which told him it wasn’t a sprain. Still, he would need to go easy on it.

He checked his wrist computer—suit integrity at 100 percent. He looked at the other readings. Sixty-two degrees Fahrenheit. Minimal radiation. No known toxins present.

Magnolia carefully moved through the jungle, ducking under branches lined with barbs and giving the horned bushes a wide berth.

There were no mutant insects, lizards, or mammals out here. Not even a three-eyed bird. But he hadn’t seen any normal animals, either.

“Check this out,” Magnolia said. She pointed into the trees. It took Kade a moment to see that she was pointing at the wreckage of a small plane.

He made his way over to the debris. There wasn’t much left, just a wing sticking out of the ground, and the cabin, also partially buried.

“It’s been here a long time,” she said.

He nodded, and they pushed ahead.

The caw of a bird finally rose over the whistle of the wind. Kade switched to infrared. It was perched on a branch about three hundred feet away, looking down at them.

He switched back to night vision. He couldn’t see the color, only that it was big, with a long hooked beak. The single eye on the crest of its head was trained on him.

Okay, so there are mutants here.

The creature took off from the branch, shrieking as it flapped away.

Kade and Magnolia reached another road. It was narrower than the landing strip and littered with rocks, probably from waves that had washed them inland during a big storm.

Magnolia kept to the right side, halting and then pointing to a building in the distance. She crouched and Kade dropped beside her, both of them shouldering their rifles to scope the structure.

Three iron beams rose splayed and bent out of the ground—not the bones of some old building, but a radio tower. Vines festooned their entire length, turning them a dark green.

Magnolia got up and Kade followed. Usually fast, today she was moving cautiously—probably to make sure he was okay, but also because they were in uncharted territory.

It was hard for Kade to fathom that his ancestors had once lived just a few hundred miles from here, and that after two and a half centuries away, he was almost home.

The road curved right, revealing a building dead ahead. Brick walls remained on the jungle-facing side, but the roof was gone.

Magnolia began to jog, glancing over her shoulder at Kade.

“I’m good, mate—”

He ducked as a brilliant flash burst out from the lighthouse. The stationary beam pointed straight out to sea.

Kade took a second to get his bearings. The lighthouse beam was a giant finger pointing at Australia’s Sunshine Coast.

“That beam isn’t a warning,” Magnolia said. “It’s a beacon.”

They kept down for a few minutes, trying to make sense of it. Finally, the light winked off.

Magnolia got back up and continued toward the buildings. As they got closer, it was obvious these hadn’t been used in centuries. Nothing remained inside, and the jungle-facing walls were all that remained of the first structure.

The second had mostly collapsed into a sloping debris pile.

The lighthouse stood just ahead. Trees had grown around it, but unlike the radio tower, it hadn’t a single vine crawling up it.

Staying low, they approached the back.

The tower glowed again, sending out another plank of light across the ocean. Kade stared up in awe, wondering what kind of energy source would allow it to function for centuries.

Unless someone was here to make sure of it . . .

Kade kept his rifle up as they slipped through the jungle and into a clearing around the bottom of the tower.

Waves slapped against the bluff where the lighthouse stood. From the air, they had seen that the former shoreline was gone, the beaches eroded all the way to the bluff.

The lighthouse was made of concrete and sat on a stone pad. The windows at the top were gone, and a metal panel covered a window halfway up.

A small stone structure connected at the back—probably the former entrance. Magnolia waited another moment before signaling for Kade. They moved out from cover, around the back of the building to a steel hatch.

She pulled the handle, opening it to a room with an old desk and bookshelves that had fallen over. They swept their lights over the space, finding mostly broken furniture.

The next door opened to a stairwell. He stepped inside to find that the stairs didn’t just go up into the lighthouse; they also went down into the ground but were sealed off by two metal hatches that looked like cellar doors.

“Let’s check the tower out first,” Magnolia whispered.

Kade started up the cracked steps, passing wall sconces that had light bulbs but no power. The wind rushed through cracks in the walls, hissing like snakes.

Magnolia stopped at the top, rifle up, before hurrying up the final steps into the enclosed lighthouse.

Kade joined her a moment later to find the windows covered in metal plates. A loose dashboard of switches hung off the wall, still connected by some frayed electrical cords.

Looking up, he found a plastic dome housing some sort of diamond-shaped bulb that was transmitting the light.

He used his helmet beam to search for a power cable but saw nothing on the walls or overhead. Pulling out his knife, he hammered down to break into the fragile stone under the plastic housing. Pieces crumbled away.

Sheathing his knife, he angled his light inside the exposed wall.

“See anything?” Magnolia asked.

He flitted the beam up and down, seeing nothing at first. Using his armored gloves, he broke off another chunk. He looked down to find a thick vine of cords stretching up in some sort of electrical wrap.

“I see something,” he said.

Magnolia took his place and shined her light down inside the wall.

“It must lead down into the basement,” she said. “Let’s check it out.”

They hurried back down the stairs to the metal door blocking off the basement. A lock lay on a stair, a broken chain link beside it.

Magnolia lifted the right hatch and shined her light inside. Kade stepped up to the sound of moving water.

“You hear that?” he asked.

“Yeah . . .”

She propped the door up and started down the winding stairs. They went down at least fifty steps before Magnolia stopped.

“Damn,” she whispered.

Kade moved up beside her, his light reflecting off water sloshing back and forth over the next landing.

“You can swim, right?” she asked.

“What!”

“Can you swim?”

“Yes, but are you seriously thinking about . . .”

Magnolia held up her wrist computer. “We both have thirty minutes of reserve air.”

Kade stared at the water.

“That light is being powered by something, and we have to find it,” she said. “The Coral Castle could be down here.”

Kade would never admit it, but he hated dark water. Still, he wasn’t a coward, and she was right. This was their only lead on the Coral Castle.

“Ready?” she asked.

“Aye.”

After slinging his rifle, he tightened the strap and made sure there was nothing to obstruct his swimming. With the weight of armor, it would already be hard.

He filled his lungs and nodded.

Magnolia walked down the stairs and vanished into the water. Kade took in another breath, cleared his head, and did the same.

The first few steps down, Kade tensed with hesitation. Terror gripped him as he moved down into the darkness of the underwater stairwell. His helmet beam showed Magnolia ahead, making her way deeper.

They finally reached the bottom and found a steel door ajar. Magnolia squirmed and pushed until she got through.

Kade took off his booster pack, unslung his rifle, and handed them through to Magnolia. Then he wiggled through, his armor scraping the stone.

After he got his gear back on, they looked around them at what seemed to be a large open chamber.

She pointed upward, and Kade nodded.

He pushed off the bottom, kicking and pulling with his arms toward the surface. The beams on his helmet flickered.

“No, no, no,” he grunted.

His legs and arms burned from the weight of his armor, which felt like an anchor. Alarmed, he kicked harder, his ankle screaming in pain. But he kept going, his light chasing Magnolia’s as he thrashed upward.

Kade tried to manage his fear by taking normal breaths. He closed his eyes and centered his thoughts.

You have been through far worse . . .

He almost hit Magnolia when he opened his eyes again.

She was at the surface, holding on to the rock wall.

Kicking, Kade burst through to her right. Their lights played over a sprawling cavern far bigger than the lighthouse above it. Metal walkways and platforms hung from the walls, most of them still secure, but a few sagging from broken stanchions.

Magnolia swam over to a catwalk and pulled herself up, then reached down to help Kade. He swept his rifle over the space, the tactical beam hitting moss-covered walls and patches of mold.

“Over there,” Magnolia said.

Kade followed her light to a pedestrian-size tunnel in the rock wall. The same thick black cord he had seen in the lighthouse snaked down into the passage.

She gestured for Kade to follow.

“This could be it!” Magnolia said. “The entrance to the Coral Castle.”

* * * * *

The waves rose higher as Michael and his little crew traveled farther away from the Vanguard Islands. According to the ancient digital map, they were only about ten minutes from making landfall at Sint Eustatius, but now he was starting to think coming here was a mistake.

X kept grumbling about “this rusted pile of shit” from behind the wheel.

“She can take this,” Steve said.

“She’d better. We’re carrying our insurance policy on this boat.”

“That insurance policy about broke my back,” Rodger groaned.

Miles whined as the vessel rocked back and forth.

“It’s okay, boy,” X said. “Just like old times aboard the Sea Wolf, eh?”

He stroked Miles as the cargo boat rose up and banged down hard.

Another wave sloshed over them, water rushing into the troop hold, where they had secured most of the food. The rest was on the boat Ton and Victor piloted.

Michael used his night-vision scope to search for their vessel.

Electric arcs flashed on the horizon, followed by muted thunder. In the lightning’s afterglow, he found Ton and Victor’s boat silhouetted a few hundred feet away. The food barrels were strapped down to the deck in front of their small enclosed cabin.

“There, that’s Sint Eustatius, or what we called the Man Maker,” Steve said. “Keep heading east and we’ll hit a beach in front of the oil silos.”

“Want me to turn the lights on now?” Michael asked.

“No, I can see just fine,” X replied. “And it looks to me like that hurricane wreaked havoc on the silos.”

Steve stepped up to the viewports. “Damn, I wasn’t even thinking about that.”

Michael stared at the shoreline, and sure enough, the coast was littered with scrap, some of it recent looking.

“Most of the tankers look okay, fortunately,” Steve observed. “Won’t know until we beach, though, I guess.”

Michael counted five silos above the beach. Another trek with the heavy food barrels.

“So much for getting home before dawn,” Michael said.

He had told Layla he would be gone for a few hours, but now she was going to worry, which was the last thing their young family needed more of.

The two boats motored closer to shore. Five-foot breakers smashed into the beach, surging up toward a barrier of rocks.

Rodger pointed to a concrete landing on the left side of the beach.

“Think we can dock there?” he asked.

“Maybe, but not going to risk it,” X said. “I’m going straight for the beach. That’s what this puppy was designed for, right?”

“Yes, sir,” Steve said.

The rectangular boat, with only a six-foot draft, was meant for ferrying troops and supplies to a battle. And that seemed to be exactly what X planned on doing now.

“I’m going to trim up, but make sure we’re actually trimmed up,” X ordered.

Steve moved out of the cabin to check the propellers.

X goosed the engine as they approached the surf. The bow pitched steeply in the current. They seemed to ride the waves at first, but Michael knew it was getting shallower by the second.

“Trimming up now,” X said. He flipped the switch, raising the propellers out of the water.

“You’re good!” Steve yelled back.

X turned off the engines and let the surf take them the rest of the way to the beach. The bow slid up, crunching over the sand.

Water rushed around both sides, retreating back into the ocean.

Michael went around to the bow and unlatched the ramp, extending it down onto the sand. Miles raced down and took off across the sand.

“Hold up, boy!” X yelled.

The dog stopped, wagging his tail in his hazard suit.

Steve and Rodger walked down the ramp.

“Nice driving, King Xavier,” Steve said.

Ton and Victor finished tying their fishing boat to a palm tree above the high-tide line.

“Lead the way, Steve,” X said.

The men left the boats and trekked up the beach toward the ancient palm oil plant. Rusted pipes were strewn across the dirt like bones. Warehouses had sunk into piles of rubble.

“If my old noggin serves me right, we aren’t far from the place I’m thinkin’,” Steve said.

He walked ahead, gripping his rifle and sticking out like some strange beast in the night in his green hazard suit. The seventy-year-old bladesmith and deputy chief engineer had seen a lot over the years—probably as much as X over his lifetime.

That got Michael curious.

“So you were stationed here?” he asked.

Steve turned slightly. “Yeah, I was training to be in the infantry but broke both legs in a fight with a beast twice my size. Took my vision in this eye, too, which is the main reason I got discharged.”

He touched his faceplate, laughed, and kept walking.

“So what did you do after your discharge?” X asked.

“I started forging weapons and spent my life doing that, among other things. Spent a few years in the prison rig, too, like I said earlier.”

“Yeah, but you didn’t tell us what you did to get sentenced there,” Rodger said.

Steve stopped walking and looked at Rodger, then at the king.

“Refusing to eat people.” Steve shrugged. “It wasn’t just that—had more to do with refusing to make blades for flaying people. El Pulpo had some men that thought of it as an art, like being a chef.”

“Sick,” Rodger said.

“Indeed it was,” Steve said.

Miles trekked ahead, and X motioned them to keep moving.

They crested the hill overlooking the beach and now had a direct view of the five cylindrical storage tanks on the right side of the plant. Rust rimmed the thirty-foot-tall towers. The upper half of a ladder hung from one of them, the other half mangled in the dirt.

There were more storage tanks on the left side, situated farther back inland, but it was too far to carry the barrels.

Steve walked slowly past the tanks, checking them out. Michael got the sense he was looking for a specific storage tank rather than for damage that might put their food at risk.

They all looked intact from the outside.

X also seemed to notice Steve’s odd behavior.

“You remember one of these or something?” he asked. “After fifty years?”

“Oh, do I ever!” Steve said.

He stopped between the two gray tanks in the second row and pointed at the one on the right. “Pretty sure this is it.”

Miles growled at the steel door.

X motioned for Ton and Victor, who came up behind Steve. He didn’t seem to notice, but Michael did. The king clearly didn’t trust Steve yet. That wasn’t unusual. During the early years that Michael knew him, X hadn’t even trusted himself.

“Yup, this is definitely it,” Steve said. “Even spooks your four-legged pal.”

Michael raised his laser rifle.

Something was already inside this tank.

Steve reached out to the chained door.

“Glad to see it’s still locked,” he said. “You see, a Cazador tradition is to never open one of these after they’re closed.”

“And why is that?” X asked.

“Because of demons inside,” Steve said. He reached for his duty belt, but X nodded at Ton and Victor, who closed in on Steve and pulled him back.

“Whoa,” he said. “Take it easy, amigos.”

“It’s all good,” X said. “Just step back from the door.”

Steve did as requested.

“Everyone, back,” X said. He aimed his laser rifle at the lock and fired a bolt. The lock melted and popped off, opening the door.

X and Michael went inside, sweeping their lights over a chamber filled with skeletal remains. Piles of wing bones and eyeless skulls. Nothing was human.

“I’ll be damned,” X said.

Michael stepped over a rib cage and looked up where X had pointed his light. The beam illuminated a massive skeletal carcass hanging from chains. Shriveled flesh showed between bones that seemed to be on the creature’s exterior.

“A bone beast,” Michael said.

“That what you call them?” Steve asked. He stepped up in the open doorway for a look. “I was wondering if the demon would still be here,” he said. “That’s the big old son of a bitch that broke my legs. It killed one of my friends, too, before we finally put it down.”

He cleared his throat as if to spit.

“Cazadores won’t ever enter this place again,” Steve said. “They’re a superstitious bunch. I promise you, King Xavier, the food will be safe here.”

X looked around, and Michael braced for a blue streak of swearing. But to his surprise, the king laughed.

“You had me worried there for a second, man,” X said. “But this graveyard will do. It’ll do just fine.”

He looked to Michael.

“I know you know to keep this a secret, but I have to say it again,” X said. “No one can know about this.”

“Understood.”

Rodger and Steve both nodded.

X didn’t need to ask Ton and Victor, who hung back now.

“When we get back, I’m calling a council meeting,” X said. “We can’t wait for the airship any longer.”

five

Magnolia walked through the tunnels, praying this was the entrance to the Coral Castle. It had to be, and the lighthouse was a beacon telling survivors where to go.

It could also be a trap . . .

Macabre memories surfaced in her mind as she walked—memories of the Cazadores. The hunters had used the lighthouses to attract human survivors, Sirens, and pretty much anything else they could eat or put to work in their prisons.

She shook the thoughts away.

Nothing indicated this was a Cazador lighthouse. There was no evidence the Cazadores had ever made it through the Panama Canal. It could be a trap laid by people long since dead, but it was worth the risk. She had to know where this tunnel led.

Her boots slapped against the stone path, leaving behind wet tracks. Kade was right behind her. His helmet lights flickered again.

“Something wrong with your battery?” Magnolia asked.

She stopped and waited for him to take a look at his wrist computer.

“Must be,” he said. “I’m at forty-two percent.”

Magnolia checked her battery. “Yeah, damn,” she said. “I’m still above ninety.”

“Guess we better hurry, then.”

They picked up the pace, moving through the tunnel that seemed to be following the coastline.

Finally, after almost thirty minutes of walking, they came upon a pool of water about three feet by four feet in the center of the path. A metal rail with two broken levers was bolted to the rock floor on the right side.

“There must have been a hatch here,” Magnolia said.

She approached a few more steps.

“Hold up,” Kade said.

He bent down to examine the opening. Purple coral towers and shifting billows of seaweed reached up from the sand below.

“The hatch is down there,” he said, pointing.

A section of rusted metal poked out of the mud and sand.

“We must be next to the surf,” Magnolia said.

She shined her light across the pool, where the path ended at a wall with a steel door. Engraved in the metal was a trident.

“That’s the same symbol we saw on the map!” Magnolia said excitedly.

“I don’t like this, mate,” Kade said.

Magnolia started to move, but Kade put up his hand to stop her.

“Don’t even try and talk me out of this,” she said.

“Aye, but careful, eh?”

She looked back to the water, searching for anything that might be lurking among the snaking green weeds or peeking out between purple limbs of coral. Seeing nothing, she got a running start and leaped over the opening, landing on the other side and sliding the two feet to the door.

Kade grunted and followed.

He narrowly made it, then pitched back, arms flailing. Magnolia grabbed him by his rifle sling and pulled him to safety.

“See? Easy,” she said.

Magnolia reached for the key and Kade prepared his rifle.

She couldn’t help wondering why someone had gone to such lengths to keep it watertight, then left a key inside so someone could walk right in.

Magnolia unlocked the door, and it popped open. Kade went inside first, sweeping his rifle back and forth.

“Looks clear,” he said.

They entered some sort of command center the size of the bridge on the airship Vanguard. Chairs sat facing workstations with dual monitors along the stone walls. Whoever built this place had spent a lot of time excavating it out of the rock bluff.

“Over here,” Kade said.

Electrical cords in thick black packaging snaked overhead and connected across the space, to a plastic box bearing the same trident logo.

Kade suddenly aimed his rifle, and she turned, lining up her sights on a figure slouched between two of the stations.

They approached cautiously, their beams hitting dull gray armor that looked similar to the Cazadores’. But it was not as bulky, with armor chest and belly plates molded to look like muscles.

The headgear was smaller than a Cazador’s, with a beak and barred viewports that revealed the skull beneath.

This guy was long dead.

Magnolia crouched down in front of the soldier, who sat with his back to the wall, gripping a sword in both armored hands. The blade rested on his shoulder plate.

The armor, sword, and helmet reminded her of an old-world knight from the Middle Ages—something she had read about many times as a kid.

She lifted the sword from the dead warrior’s hands. It was much heavier than the light cutlasses the Cazadores favored.

Holding it up under her light, she noticed the gold engraving. It was hard to read, but she could make out the words: Protect the flock. Slay the infidels.

“This is the same type of sword that X showed me,” she said. “The one the Cazadores took off the mysterious traveler who spoke of this place—right before they ate him.”

Kade scanned the room again.

She didn’t need any more convincing. This was indeed part of the Coral Castle. They just had to find a way inside.

Magnolia put the sword down.

“This must be the command center,” she said. “So the question is, how do we get to the underground city?”

Kade walked over to the monitors, and Magnolia went to a dashboard in front of a large mounted screen.

They spent the next few minutes trying to turn on the equipment, but nothing worked. Judging by the cobwebs and dust, this place had been sealed off for decades.

“I don’t think anyone—”

An emergency alarm wailed. She turned toward the plastic electric box where the cables from the lighthouse connected. In the trident’s central tine, a red light pulsed.

“What’s going on?” Magnolia shouted over the noise. “Did you touch something?”

Kade shook his head.

The alarm’s wail rose and fell. Under that sound, she heard another noise that made her gut clench: rushing water.

She whirled as the tide surged into the room. It rose fast, quickly coming up to their ankles. Kade ran over to the door to shut it, but the force of the water overwhelmed him.

Magnolia moved back to the monitors, which had flickered on. The pulsating box must have triggered them. She switched on the main dashboard as Kade fought to stem the flood.

“Buy me some time!” she shouted.

The cracked screen glimmered with an image of a city.

From unseen speakers came an elderly female voice with an Australian accent. Magnolia could barely hear her.

“Hello, and welcome to the Coral command room. My name is Jana, and if you are hearing this message, you are one of the lucky few who survived World War Three. We have food, supplies, and shelter for those who can make it to the trident beyond the Sunshine Coast. Wait there, and a team will guide you to our location.”

The water rose to her knees, and Kade waved.

“We have to go. Come on!”

“But the trident,” she said. “We have to figure out where it is!”

She tapped the screen again. Nothing happened. The water was up to their waists now.

“Commander, we have to go!” Kade said. He waded over, gesturing for her.

“Follow the beacon,” the woman on the monitor repeated.

“The beacon,” Magnolia said. “That’s it, the light we saw—that’s where we have to go!”

She finally turned and followed Kade back to the door. The water rose higher.

Magnolia froze in the entryway, looking at the plastic box. The water was just a foot below it now. If it reached the junction box, the light would go out. Then again, they might get electrocuted, in which case they wouldn’t need light.

But there wasn’t anything she could do to stop the water from flowing in. They had to get out of here.

She pushed into the passage with Kade, staring back the way they had come. There was no way they would make it back through the deep water on their suits’ depleted air supply. It had taken them thirty minutes just to get here, and that was walking and jogging.

“We have to go out through the other pool,” Magnolia said. “It goes right into the surf.”

Kade cursed but didn’t protest. He went first, ducking under the water. She did the same, dropping into the passage opening.

Seaweed wafted up at them, and fragile branches of coral reached out as they lowered into the water.

Kicking out, she found it hard not to lose herself in the beauty of this underwater forest. Colonies of every imaginable hue looked like massive flowers, others like colorful mushrooms.

A school of purple fish darted by, fleeing her light. She shined it up toward the surface, but they were in some sort of cave, or perhaps still under a bluff.

She continued kicking through a ravine of coral, checking on Kade, who was a few strokes behind.

Another fish swam past, with glowing green eyes and spiked skin like a puffer fish. She kicked away from it and pulled herself over a colony of orange and red polyps.

Magnolia could see the end of the rocky ceiling now. They weren’t far.

She pulled herself with her arms, kicking at the same time. The armor and her gear weighed her down, but she was fit.

A flash of silver as long as Magnolia darted across the valley of coral, moving into a gap in the reef to her right. Sand and grit puffed upward as the human-sized sea creature wedged itself under the shelf of corals and garish sea anemones.

She stopped and slid one of her curved blades from its sheath. Kade swam up to her side, already gripping a knife.

She pointed at the coral where she had seen the gigantic fish. He nodded back. They kept going.

A glance at her watch showed half her oxygen remaining. Plenty of time to get out of here and back to the surface.

She scanned the underwater colonies for threats. Nothing moving within her field of vision besides a few small fish.

Tucking her curved blade away, she kept pulling and kicking, rising up under the last of the rock shelf overhead. She could see vast open water in her beams, and a massive drop-off. She felt a chill thinking about what might be down there.

Kade caught up to her again, and together they rose out from under the rocky shelf. It sloped up to their right, covered in more coral and seaweed.

Magnolia swam that way, her light hitting the surface of the water.

They were almost there.

She turned and realized Kade wasn’t by her side anymore. Treading water, she searched for him with her light. Bubbles ascended toward the surface.

“Kade!” she shouted in her helmet.

A fathom below, her light captured a twisting, smooth body wrapped around Kade’s midsection and pulling him back into the depths. A horned face looked up at her with shimmering green eyes.

She kicked down after them as Kade twisted and fought. He thrust his knife into the slick, black body, which suddenly flashed a brilliant blue.

It uncoiled and swam away, letting Kade go.

He jerked, then hung limp in the water.

Magnolia swam down to him, kicking hard. When she reached Kade, he was unconscious. Her heart pounded as the realization sank in—he had been electrocuted and there was no way she could haul him to the surface.

Frantic, she moved around his body, holding him and keeping him from sinking any deeper. Then she saw the booster pack. Of course.

She hit the button, and the balloon burst out and filled with helium, drawing him upward. Then she reached over her shoulder and hit her own booster, watching for the eel as she ascended.

The beast was gone now, vanished into the depths.

Magnolia watched the surface grow closer. Kade burst through a moment later, rising up limply.

“Timothy, this is Magnolia!” she shouted. “We need evac on our position now! Kade’s been electrocuted.”

The lighthouse suddenly glowed, firing a bright beam across the horizon. Now, as the balloon pulled her above the water, Magnolia could see where the beam pointed.

A storm was surging off the southern coast of Queensland, where they were headed next.

To find the trident.

If Kade survived to see it.

* * * * *

Twelve years ago . . .

Kade’s eyes opened to a dark space with a familiar smell. It reminded him of the water they drank on the airship—water that tasted like the corrosion of the various metals in the pipe.

He tried to sit up, but something restrained his chest, arms, and legs.

He stared into the inky black.

“Hello,” he mumbled.

His croaky voice sounded distant, as it often did when he was coming back from a dive and rising into the air.

“Hello,” he repeated.

No response.

Kade closed his eyes, trying to remember where he was and how he got here. A deep pain pulsated from the back of his skull, accompanied by a fragmented memory.

He was on a dive and had just penetrated the cloud cover. A massive mountain filled the horizon.

Another jolt of pain ripped through his skull.

The next thing he saw was Johnny. They were trekking across a rocky field with the hard case containing their testing supplies. The younger diver slid down an embankment into a stream, where he took samples of the water.

The memory vanished, replaced by yet another image. This time, Johnny was rising into the sky, under a helium balloon.

He was waving now. Frantic.

Screaming.

“Commander, Commander! What do—”

Johnny exploded in midair, gone in a burst of flak.

Everything came crashing back in that moment, like an all-consuming fire.

He remembered the recon mission to Mount Kilimanjaro, the promising tests they conducted, and then finding the factory. Then came the machines, the drones, and the explosions in the clouds.

“No, no, no!” Kade squirmed in his restraints.

A succession of emotions ripped through him—horror, disbelief, sorrow, rage—as he remembered the airship coming down.

He fought against the straps binding him. They cut into his flesh. After a few minutes of struggling, he managed to touch something cold and metallic with both shoulders and his hips.

“Let me go!” he screamed.

This time his voice was loud and clear, but it echoed. He realized then that he wasn’t in some dark open space—he was in a metal box or coffin.

Kade wasn’t sure how long he fought, but he finally stopped, his wrists slick with blood from the chafing bonds. He lay there for hours, too exhausted to keep struggling. His lips burned, and his throat was scratchy. He tried to swallow but had no saliva.

Kade had never known a thirst or hunger like this, and like all sky people, he knew what both were like.

He teetered on the threshold of consciousness. When the red light flashed over his naked feet, he thought he was dreaming. He closed one eye and squinted with the other, following the light as it inched up his body.

In its glow, he could make out his prison. It was a human-size box, just like an old-world coffin.

The light flicked off just as quickly as it had come on, and again he was left in darkness. Alert now, he waited, heart racing.

Again the darkness set in, like a colossal snake made of spirit, squeezing him.

“Let me go,” he whispered.

His voice was hardly audible after all the screaming over the past few days.

Just as he was about to lose hope, a clanking reverberated, and a sliver of light flashed into his box. He felt the sensation of movement but didn’t realize he was being tipped until the coffin lid opened.

Still bound, he slid right out and onto a conveyor belt, his back and legs attached to some sort of platform that the box had ejected with him.

Then he saw them—two figures, right in front of him, both bound and moving along the conveyor belt.

“Who’s there?” he choked out.

“Kade . . . Kade, is that you?”

He recognized the female voice in front of him.

“Nikki,” Kade said. “Nikki, where’s Mikah and my sons? And Tia?”

“I don’t know . . . I saw them . . .”

“Nikki, tell me what you saw.”

She kept repeating herself as the conveyor belt moved forward. A distant but intensifying orange light illuminated the narrow tunnel they were in.

Kade turned his head to look at the person behind him, but that person was no longer recognizable, their features burned away in the crash.

Whoever this had been, they were long dead.

“Kade!” Nikki cried. “Kade, help me.”

“It’s going to be okay,” he said. “Stay calm. We’re going to get out of here . . . Now, tell me, what happened to my wi—”

“Mikah was . . .”

Kade froze.

“Mikah . . . Oh, Kade, I’m so sorry, I couldn’t do anything.”

“What happened? Tell me what happened!”

“I only heard her screams.”

Kade was quiet a moment before quietly asking, “What about my sons?”

“I saw Tia, I think, but I didn’t see your boys. I only heard Mikah . . . She was frantic, screaming like she was in horrible pain.”

“Oh God, no.” Kade exhaled as his heart shattered. He didn’t need to hear more. He knew what had happened to them. He had seen the ship come down and burst into flames.

“Kade, you have to help—”

Nikki was cut off by a crunching not far away, then a howl of pain that didn’t even sound human.

“What was that?” she gasped.

Kade stared ahead as a sliver of light grew, then shrank, then closed off.

He understood then. The conveyor belt was leading them to an oven. To their death by cremation.

“Kade!” Nikki screamed.

The doors opened again, revealing a fiery maw.

“No!” Nikki yelled. “No, please! Please, someone help me! Kade . . .”

Her voice, too, turned to shrill animal cries of sheer agony, followed by crunching noises.

Kade closed his eyes. Unlike Nikki and the man before her, he didn’t scream, wheedle, or beg. He welcomed the swift death, a death that would reunite him with his family or, at the very worst, end his misery.

He couldn’t bear living without them.

The doors opened, and blue flames jetted. Another red light scanned his eyes and face. The conveyor belt stopped for a beat, then two, then kept going.

He gritted his teeth, waiting to be crushed and burned, but the belt kept going, and his strapped-down body continued right through, to another door that opened to a dim yellow light.

The conveyor belt ended, and the straps over his body released, dumping him into a big cage. He landed hard on his feet, both legs too weak to support the fall. They folded underneath him and he crashed in a heap.

There were other people down here, some moving, others limp.

He used the last of his strength to get up on his knees, only to fall back down. Voices came from around him, many of them familiar, others so faint he didn’t recognize them.

Kade finally found the energy to get up into a sitting position.

He looked at the faces around him: men, women, and a few children from the airship.

“Jack, Sean . . . Rich,” he whimpered.

He grabbed the closest person, a man who had worked in the water treatment plant.

“Adrian, do you know where my sons are?”

Adrian stared blankly at him.

He crawled to the next person, got up, and turned him around. It was a militia soldier named Brad, with a nasty burn on his forehead.

“Where are my sons?” Kade asked.

When Brad looked over lazily, Kade shook him.

“Brad, where are my sons!”

“I don’t know,” the man groaned.

The ground rumbled, prompting cries of panic around Kade.

He moved to the next person—Carl Lex, their chief engineer, also known as Charmer. His perpetual white grin was folded into a pained grimace. Both hands were burned and wrapped in cloth. Next to him was an orphan named Joey, a seventeen-year-old Hell Diver apprentice who Kade had already started to train.

More shouts and screams echoed as the floor started to move, or so it seemed. It took a few seconds for Kade to realize they were in a vehicle, perhaps a truck.

He kept on searching for his sons in the cage and for Tia, but there were no kids younger than Joey here.

“How did this happen?” someone whispered.

Kade didn’t turn toward the voice. He closed his eyes, trying to focus past the agonizing pain and find more strength so he could find his sons.

The vehicle ground to a halt. The back door opened, allowing in dim gray light. Two machines were waiting in the dirt. They opened the back cage door with their hard metal fingers and started yanking people out.

Kade was in the back, unable to do anything but watch.

When it was his turn, a machine grabbed him by the leg and dragged him to the opening before tossing him to the dirt. He looked up at a building not far away, where the group was being led.

Above the building was something he had never seen before. In the gray clouds, a bright ball shone through the haze.

One of the machines picked him up effortlessly and righted him before striding away. He stumbled but kept his footing, falling in line with the other prisoners. They walked toward a building with barred windows. Behind the filthy panes, faces stared down at them, but Kade didn’t recognize any of them.

His heart leaped at the realization.

These were people from other airships, lured here by the same message with the promise of salvation.

“How did this happen?” said the same deep voice from earlier.

Kade turned to see a man he hardly recognized.

Captain Rolo, covered in ash and dust, trudged along, repeating the same question.

“Kade,” said a new voice. “Kade, can you hear me?”

Blinking, he woke from a dream to bright light and a scent of chemicals.

He slowly emerged from the dream memory about the machine camp.

“Kade, it’s me, Magnolia. Can you hear me?”

“Yeah,” he mumbled.

He managed to sit up and open his eyes to see Magnolia. They were in the med ward aboard the airship Vanguard, and he was naked. Bashful, Kade pulled the blanket up to his waist with bandaged hands.

“What the bloody hell happened?” he asked.

“You don’t remember?”

He shook his head just as a memory of the lighthouse surfaced.

“You were attacked by an electric eel on our dive,” she said. “Your suit saved you from the full shock, but you still got knocked out.”

He held up his hands, another memory flashing through his mind—the sharp hide of the beast that had surprised him down there.

The PA system buzzed and echoed in the empty medical ward.

“Commander Katib,” Timothy said over the comm.

“Hold on,” Magnolia said to Kade.

She went over and hit the intercom button. “Go ahead, Pepper.”

“Commander, I’ve followed that beam. I think you should see this in the CIC,” he replied.

Kade swung his legs over the bed.

“No, you need to sit tight,” Magnolia said.

“I’m not here to fuck spiders.”

“What’s that mean, again?”

“It means let’s get on with it.”

She frowned. “Fine, but put some clothes on. I’ll meet you there.”

Kade threw on a scratchy pair of pants and a torn T-shirt and hurried to the bridge, limping all the way there and using the railings to stay upright.

He paused in the entryway.

Outside the portholes, he saw another beam piercing the horizon.

“Bloody hell,” he whispered. “Where are we now?”

Eevi turned toward him. “That’s Sandy Cape Lighthouse on Fraser Island,” she said. “The beam from Lady Elliot Island was pointing right here.”

“So there could be more?” Magnolia asked.

“Yes, but there is a major problem,” Timothy said. His hologram strode to the viewport. “There is no way we can get through that storm, nor can we go above or below it.”

He massaged his tidy beard. “I’m sorry, Commander Katib, but I cannot allow you to take the ship any farther, due to the extreme risk.”

Magnolia heaved a sigh and turned to Kade.

“Guess it’s time to go home and get the navy,” she said. “King Xavier is gonna want to see this himself.”

six

“Still no word from the airship,” said Michael. “Pedro just checked with Outpost Gateway and they have not heard anything.”

“We can’t delay any longer,” Imulah said. “The council is ready for you, King Xavier. You must address them.”

“I’ll be in shortly,” X grunted.

“You’ll want to wear this.” The Cazador scribe handed him the crown.

X took off the red Marine Corps cap he had found on the supercarrier and stuffed it into his pocket. With a grunt, he placed the crown over his graying hair.

That’s the reward for leadership, he thought. Scars, gray hairs, and not enough sleep.

He watched Michael and the scribe melt into the shadows of the hall of statues. They entered the council chambers through a side door farther down the passage, out of view.

King Xavier, dressed in his Hell Diver armor and wearing the crown of the Vanguard Islands, waited with Miles to enter the chamber.

The hatchet that Steve the bladesmith had made him hung in a brand-new leather sheath on his duty belt, next to the holster for his handgun.

On any other occasion, Ton and Victor, who stood guard, might think he was preparing to lead them into battle.

And in a way, X was preparing for battle—just not the kind that spilled blood.

Yet . . .

He stared at the double doors as he had once stared at the launch bay doors. He felt the same dread, too, of what awaited on the other side.

In some ways, he would rather dive than meet with the council. On a dive, he could at least fight back after landing. At council meetings, he had to refrain from punching any selfish, incompetent people for their dumb-assed comments, and today he would have to use extra restraint.

Almost a week had passed since he sent the airship Vanguard on a mission to search for the Coral Castle, and he worried he had sent his best divers to their death in the only remaining airship. They weren’t due back yet, but no one had heard from them—not even Outpost Gateway.

It could be storm interference, or it could be something else.

Here, X had done what he could by securing the food at the secret location outside the barrier between light and dark, and keeping reconstruction on the rigs going smoothly.

Now it was time to address all the issues, and the future, with those who were helping shape it. And it was also time to answer questions that would no doubt be flung at him for deploying the airship without council approval.

X started down the hallway, his armor glistening under the burning oil lamps. He strode past wooden statues commemorating men and women who were far better people than X could ever become. Miles stopped to sniff at the tallest of the carvings and let out a whine.

“Yeah, I know, boy,” X said. “Giraffe was a good man. The best.”

The statue of Captain Les Mitchells towered over X and his dog. Portrayed in his white uniform, stoical and heroic, it captured him perfectly. He had sacrificed everything to stop the machines at Mount Kilimanjaro.

Along the hallway were more statues of people who had given their lives so that the human race would have a second chance. And they weren’t all sky people.

X stopped before the burly likeness of Rhino, the late general of the Cazador army—a man X had known only a short time but had grown to love like a brother.

The statue stood guard along the tile hallway, his double-headed spear in hand. This was the very spear that X had used to kill the skin walkers’ cannibal prince, Horn.

Next in the line of dead heroes were Captain Katrina DaVita and Captain Maria Ash, both women who had given everything to lead their people to this home on the sea.

X still choked up sometimes when he saw the carving of Katrina.

He missed her. God damn, did he miss her.

He lingered a moment, thinking of what could have been.

Ton and Victor padded silently after him to the double doors, becoming his shadow.

X pushed the doors open and started down the center aisle of the great hall, feeling more like the court jester with his crown than the king.

Everyone rose to their feet, and the soldiers in the room pounded their chests—none louder than their tall, stone-faced leader, General Forge.

The Hell Divers, in their jumpsuits, occupied the front seats, with Gran Jefe, Sofia, Arlo, Edgar, and Tia in the first row.

It was hard to believe that these were the only veterans left besides Kade and Magnolia, and retired divers like Michael and Layla.

X had expected Sofia to retire, too, and stay home with Rhino Jr., but she wanted to serve, and Layla had graciously offered to help with the child.

The faces of all the men and women X had served with raced through his mind. They had died so that everyone in this room could live.

X continued to scan the crowd. Behind the divers were the Cazador businessmen, in their fancy tunics and feathered hats.

And there was Charmer, with a newer tunic, and a red scarf around his neck. He grinned at X.

X would deal with him later, maybe even slap that insolent grin into the ocean.

Miles ran ahead, taking his place by the throne. Ton and Victor were already in position, spears planted and eyes forward.

“Please sit,” X said. He took in the faces of the audience, the council, and the soldiers standing sentry throughout the room.

At the table, the councilors took their seats. Pedro Gonçalvez and Cecilia Peres, from Rio de Janeiro, were there in their gray uniforms. The sky people from Kilimanjaro, led by Captain Rolo and Captain Linda Fina, wore bright-blue uniforms.

Chief Engineer Michael Everhart was here to represent the sky people from the Hive, but Magnolia’s chair sat empty.

To their left, General Forge and Imulah, representing the Cazadores, sat on both sides of Martino Lupe. The heavyset merchant who controlled the fishing fleet looked a little peaked today, with large bags under his eyes and a sunburn on his bald head.

Today he wore a tunic with an open collar, and a little golden octopus gleaming in his gray chest hair.

“Let’s get started,” X said. “As you all know, we returned from the Panama Canal with supplies to rebuild our rigs and restore power, and although we took losses, those losses were not in vain.”

He bowed his head.

“Let’s start by thinking of those people once again.”

The crowd lowered their heads, and X thought of the good people they had lost, including Ada.

“For the first time in the history of our home, we have reached the Pacific Ocean,” X said. “Using Outpost Gateway, we will transfer supplies from raids along the western coast of South America, as well as the southern coastline of Panama heading west and north to Mexico.”

He gestured to Michael.

“Chief Everhart will address the current status of our rigs and supplies.”

Michael stood, scratching the back of his head with his robotic hand.

“Long story short, we’re in good shape with parts and materials to restore our rigs,” Michael said. “Crews are currently installing new blades on our turbines at the Wind Talker, along with solar panels. We should be at full capacity again within a week, with enough charged batteries for all the rigs.”

Voices in the crowd murmured, most of them sounding pleased.

“Thank you, Chief,” X said. “General Forge will now give us a sitrep on the Vanguard military.”

The tall warrior stood, pounding his chest armor before turning to the crowd.

“We lost forty-four soldiers in Panama with fifty more wounded, but many of them have already returned to duty,” he said. “Adding new recruits, our main fighting force is growing, at just under three hundred infantry, as well as the hundred militia fighters guarding the islands.”

He turned slightly, and X could see the scars on his face from the beast that had nearly killed them both.

“Our armada is now más grande,” Forge said. “We have the supercarrier Immortal, Raven’s Claw, and we repair Octopus. And soon, two more vessels we salvaged from Colón in the canal zone, including a fast support ship we call la Rana. The Frog. We grow muy stronger, but we need more warriors. Five hundred new citizens come from Mount Kilimanjaro. Some must fill our ranks.”

He pounded his chest armor again and then sat.

X put his hand on the wood haft of his axe. He looked to Captain Rolo, whose cheeks were red with anger. It was obvious he didn’t want his people to join the Vanguard military.

After a brief stare down, X motioned to businessman Martino Lupe.

“The floor is yours, Señor Lupe,” X said.

The merchant put his palms on the table and pushed himself up with a grunt.

“Gracias, King Xavier,” he said. “I keep this short, and tell you only we continue to bring in bad catches, and with loss of a trawler, the future of fishing es muy mal.”

He went on to talk about the power issues at the Nest, the three rigs connected by bridges, where most of the Cazador population lived.

This prompted a response from Michael.

“We have you on the list, and I will personally deliver the battery and see that it is installed properly,” he said. “Also, we are adding a wind turbine and solar panels to keep it charged.”

Martino brought his hand to his head in a gesture of respect and gratitude.

X was impressed by Michael’s diplomacy and his patience with the different populations, especially after all he had been through.

“Anything else?” X asked.

“That is all, my King,” Martino replied. He took a seat and X nodded to Imulah.

The scribe rested his book on his left arm and opened it.

And for the next hour, X sat there listening as Imulah droned on about current crops in storage, livestock, and oil supply.

Of course, Imulah left out the fact they had at least three months of food stored in an oil tank on an abandoned island. X thought of what Charmer had said about transparency, and couldn’t help but feel that the man had a point.

X was hiding more than the location of the airship. He was hiding the vacuum-sealed food from the supercarrier Immortal as an insurance policy.

Maybe it wasn’t the right thing to do. Maybe he should have shared that knowledge right away.

X was uncertain about several things. But being a leader wasn’t supposed to be easy. Any decision could potentially send them over the edge into extinction.

When Imulah finished, X thanked him and faced the crowd, hoping they were amenable to what he was about to request.

“Now that we are rebuilding the islands and our fleet, I am seeking council approval for the next mission into the Pacific,” X said. “I hoped the airship Vanguard would be back by now, but they are not—”

“Where are they?”

To X’s surprise, the voice didn’t come from Captain Rolo. It came from Captain Linda Fina, who stood and faced him.

“You deployed the airship without council approval,” she continued. “What is the good of a council if protocol is not followed for our most important asset and only airship?”

“The king is speaking,” Victor said angrily.

X raised a hand. “It’s okay,” he said. “Let her speak.”

“I am done,” she said, sitting.

“If I may,” came a voice from the crowd.

Charmer stood up.

“Permission to talk, Your Majesty,” he said in a voice that some might find rude.

“Denied. Sit your ass down,” X said. “This is for the council and—”

“I defer my voice, then,” Captain Rolo blurted. “Since you never seem to listen to me, I lend my voice to Carl.”

X alternated his gaze from the captain to Charmer. “Speak.”

Charmer left the pew and stood in the aisle. He glanced at Michael before turning to X.

“First off, I must ask, how many total people live within your kingdom?”

X gestured to Imulah.

“Three thousand, two hundred fifty-one people.” The scribe announced the number without a beat of hesitation. “I can break those numbers down by population, if you wish.”

X looked to Charmer. “That won’t be necessary,” he said.

“Please don’t mistake our frustration for a lack of gratitude, Your Majesty, but we are well aware that the rations we have left aren’t going to last until the next harvest, especially with so many mouths to feed.”

Charmer gestured toward his comrades in the gallery. “I think I speak for all my people in asking how you plan to find more food before we run out.”

It was a good question, but X couldn’t help raising a brow. Charmer seemed to be speaking for Rolo now, as if he were in charge.

“We are scared,” Charmer said. “We want assurances that you are not being reckless with the remaining resources.”

“Reckless,” X grumbled under his breath. He was starting to feel the anger he had worried about before the meeting. He wanted to punch a wall or, better yet, Charmer.

Count to ten.

“By not seeking council approval and secretly deploying the airship without my knowledge, you are being reckless,” said Captain Rolo.

“I could have told you if you had responded to my inquiry in Panama,” X said. “As you recall, I asked if you were still up for being captain.”

Rolo stood straighter. “And I am, so where the hell is my . . . the ship? Did you send it to Cali for recon? I sure hope so, because if you sent it to—”

“That is classified information,” X snapped.

Miles perked up.

Rolo stared at X, and X held his gaze until Rolo looked away and sat.

“King Xavier,” said a deep voice from the audience.

Gran Jefe stood.

“Permission to speak,” he said. “For the Hell Divers.”

X gave a nod, narrowing in on the hardened face of the man who had nearly bested him in the Sky Arena—the man who last saw Ada Winslow alive.

“We Hell Divers,” Gran Jefe said, stretching out his tattooed arms like the world’s fattest bird preparing to take flight. “When airship come home, we ready to dive.”

“Good,” X said.

“Pero maybe we should think of Cazador ways, too, King Xavier. We go to wastes and catch beasts to eat.”

X had never considered the food source the armies once relied on in desperate times. But few in the audience seemed to object to the idea.

He shut Gran Jefe down before the big warrior mentioned cannibalism.

“Thank you for your suggestion,” X said.

Another hour of discussion passed, and he began to relax. It helped that a light rain pounded the shutters behind the throne, keeping his blood pressure down.

But his heart started thumping when the great hall doors swung open and Lieutenant Wynn rushed inside, panting.

Everyone in the audience and at the council table stared, some of them speaking to one another.

Wynn raced up the aisle to the throne.

“King Xavier,” he said, stopping at the top stair to catch his breath.

“What?”

Wynn leaned over to X. “Pedro just heard from Outpost Gateway,” he whispered. “They finally got a transmission from Commanders Katib and Long,” he whispered. “They think they found it.”

“Found it . . . ?”

“The Coral Castle, sir.” Wynn’s eyes brightened. “They think they have discovered the location.”

X raised his chin, holding back a grin.

“There’s been a development,” his gruff voice boomed. “The airship Vanguard is on its way home with news from Australia. News that will secure our future.”

* * * * *

A whirring came from the clouds.

Rodger was in a crane at the Wind Talker, installing a salvaged blade from Panama, when he heard the familiar noise.

He smiled as the airship Vanguard lowered from the sky. It was hard to believe his former home, what was once called the Hive, had made it to Australia and back a week after the council meeting, and over two weeks since the airship deployed.

Everyone was thrilled to hear what they had found, but Rodger didn’t care so much about that. He cared more about Magnolia being safe.

“Rodge!” Michael shouted.

Rodger turned in the bucket to his friend the chief engineer, hanging from a rope at the top of turbine 8. The newest addition brought the turbine count to nine.

“Go see Mags!” Michael yelled.

“You both go!” Steve shouted. “I can handle the rig.”

The deputy chief engineer was suspended from turbine 7, on a deck above them.

Rodger waved at the crane operator below, and the box lowered to the deck.

Michael touched down a moment later.

“Bet you’re excited,” he said.

Rodger smiled, but he also felt a sense of dread he couldn’t place.

“Thanks, Deputy Chief,” Rodger said to Steve.

“You bet.” Steve climbed into the box that Rodger had climbed out of, and up he went.

Michael and Rodger took a ladder down to the marina. From there, they jumped on a speedboat and powered away from the rig.

“I knew she’d be okay,” Michael said, clapping Rodger on the shoulder.

“Yeah.” Rodger smiled, but again he felt dread churning in his soul.

“Whatever they found out there must be good,” Michael said. “Check that out.”

He pointed at Raven’s Claw, Octopus, and the supercarrier Immortal, standing off the southern end of the capitol tower. Their decks were clear of the turbine blades, electrical cable, and building materials from Panama and were already being loaded up with armored vehicles, ammunition, and crates of food.

“I wonder if King Xavier will be leading this next mission into the wastes,” Rodger said.

Michael’s smile faded, and he glanced over, concern on his brow. Saying nothing, he pushed the throttle forward, sinking Rodger back against his seat.

By the time they docked at the capitol tower, the airship was already lowering over the top. Its mere presence here, instead of at its normal pad on the adjacent rig , told Rodger it wasn’t staying, either.

What the hell did they find out there?

He had a hunch they were searching for the Coral Castle, but up until now, he had doubted the existence of such a place, which seemed naive. If the Vanguard Islands and all the other bunkers and places they had rescued people from over the years could exist, why not the Coral Castle?

He moored the speedboat and hurried up to the rooftop with Michael.

Dozens of people had already gathered behind the quarter-acre forest, including King Xavier. He stood directly under the hovering airship, holding his Marine Corps cap down to keep it from blasting off.

Miles barked as the landing gear touched down with a thud that made the roof tremble. Rodger and Michael rushed over. Lieutenant Wynn was also running toward the king.

“Where are Captain Rolo and General Forge?” X asked.

“On their way, sir,” Wynn replied.

“Good. Tell them to meet me in the CIC. Michael, I want you to come, too. You too, Rodge,” X said. “But no one else for now.”

The ramp lowered to the bottom, and Michael started up with Rodger and X.

As Rodger struggled up on his prosthetic foot, he heard a female voice.

“Rodger!”

He stopped and looked into the dimly lit cargo hold. Magnolia grinned and ran over, into his arms.

“Rodge,” she said, kissing his cheek.

“Mags, I . . .”

“I’m so sorry I didn’t get to say goodbye,” she said before he could get anything out.

Rodger kissed her back on the cheek and then pulled back, looking her up and down. “Are you okay?” he asked.

“Yes, I’m fine, but Kade took a licking out there.”

“Good to see you safe and sound, Mags,” Michael said.

“Good to see you, too, Tin.”

She had a twinkle in her eye that Rodger had seen only a few times. But something told him it wasn’t because they were reunited.

Magnolia hugged Rodger again as footsteps clanked up the ramp.

“Sorry to interrupt, kids, but we need to talk in the CIC, pronto,” X said.

Magnolia parted from Rodger and hurried back up into the ship with Michael and the king. Rodger tried to keep up with her, but she wasn’t slowing.

Halfway across the cargo hold, she turned and waited.

Again Rodger felt that he was holding her back.

“Go, I’ll meet you there,” he said.

“No, I’ll wait,” Magnolia said.

They made their way through the ship, passing the gaily painted overheads and hulls that Rodger remembered so fondly. Memories of his parents surfaced everywhere. He choked up a little when he passed the trading post, where they had run their clock shop.

He missed them terribly.

When they got to the CIC, the others were already inside, along with Eevi, Kade, and Timothy. General Forge walked into the room, saluting with a fist to his chest armor.

They waited a few minutes before Captain Rolo came huffing through the open hatch.

“Kade,” he said.

“Captain,” Kade replied. He walked away from the station he was standing behind, his hands wrapped in bandages.

“What the hell happened to you?” Rolo asked. “You look like a dingo’s breakfast.”

“Aye, I tangoed with an electric eel,” Kade said.

Rodger walked over to a digital screen with maps of Australia’s Sunshine Coast and Gold Coast.

Everyone huddled around the maps.

“What am I looking at here?” X asked.

“We believe this is the general location of the Coral Castle,” Magnolia said. “But the storms wouldn’t let us close enough to nail it down.”

X turned to those around them. “This is classified, got it?”

Nods all around, even from Rolo.

“Continue, Commander Katib,” X said.

“Sir, we traveled to a working lighthouse on Lady Elliot Island. A message at the bottom spoke of a place with food, supplies, and salvation,” she said. “We’ll play it in a second, but note, while they didn’t give the coordinates, we believe the lighthouses do.”

“How so?”

“The beacons,” Kade said. “They point to a single spot.”

“That’s what this map is,” Timothy added. “The light from Lady Elliot Island pointed to Sandy Cape Lighthouse on Fraser Island.”

“The storms are too powerful to go any farther,” Eevi cut in.

“I’m glad you didn’t risk it,” X said.

“Yeah, no kidding,” Rolo muttered.

Rodger was really starting to dislike the guy, but this time X seemed to ignore him.

“Where does the Sandy Cape Lighthouse point?” the king asked.

“We’re hoping, to the Coral Castle,” Magnolia said. “But we’ll need the navy to recon the area.”

Rodger watched X for a reaction. He continued exploring the maps, then faced the men and women in the CIC.

“We have no choice but to head there next,” X said. “With our current rations, we’ll be out of food in three months. We can maybe stretch that after the losses we took in Panama, but not by much.”

He took off his red Marine Corps cap and fluffed it before placing it back on his head.

“General Forge, cancel the loading of Raven’s Claw and Octopus,” X said. “We’re only taking the supercarrier and the Frog. I’m leaving the rest of the navy here to protect the islands and conserve fuel.”

He looked to Rolo next.

“Captain, do I have your word you will follow my commands out there?”

“Yes, King Xavier,” Rolo said. “But this will be my last mission. After this is over, I would like to focus on living whatever remaining years I have left with my people.”

“Understood.”

X walked over to Michael and put a hand on his shoulder.

“You’re still in charge until I return, and I have full faith you will continue doing an outstanding job,” he said. “Ton and Victor will once again remain behind to protect you.”

Rodger could tell that Michael wanted to say something, but Michael nodded his acceptance of this honor—or, perhaps, burden.

“Commanders Katib and Long, prepare your divers,” X said. “I want the greenhorns along for this mission. We’ll need one of them to replace Ada.”

“Yes, sir,” Magnolia said.

X continued to hand out orders, but none of them had anything to do with Rodger.

“King Xavier,” he said, “I’m ready to serve.”

“You’re needed here on the islands, right, Michael?” X said.

Michael looked to Rodger.

“I have everything covered,” Michael replied. “If Rodger wants to go, he has my blessing.”

“I’d like to dive again,” Rodger said. “I’d like to replace Ada.”

“Rodge, you know you can’t . . .” Magnolia started to say.

His heart sank when the king agreed.

“I’m sorry, Rodger, but your diving days are over,” X said. “But you are free to come and assist.”

Rodger didn’t want to assist. He wanted to play a vital role. But maybe there was something he could do, some way he could play a part.

He had just the thing in mind.

“All right, let’s mount up,” X said. “It’s a long journey to Australia, and we’re heading out first thing tomorrow morning.”

seven

A Cazador horn blared at dawn, announcing the imminent deployment of the supercarrier Immortal.

Michael opened the window of his apartment, letting in the sun. He had risen early to work on Cricket 3.0. After a few days of work, he had fixed the bioscanner, updated the digital maps, and added a voice-to-text function.

“Good morning,” Michael said.

The words rolled across the screen.

A whisper from Layla came from the doorway. Cricket translated that, too.

I still can’t believe he’s put you in charge again.

Michael looked over his shoulder to his wife.

“Would you rather I go?” he asked.

“No, I’d rather you be an engineer and a father.”

Michael felt his frustration rising. He took a few moments to temper his response. Then he set Cricket down.

“Tin, I’m talking to you.”

Hearing his childhood name didn’t help matters.

“Layla, I’m not Tin anymore,” he snapped. “I’m a man, and I will do what King Xavier asks of me to keep our home safe. You heard how much food is left, and it’s not going to last us until the next harvest, not to mention we could be hit by a storm before that happens.”

“I know, I’m just . . .”

“We’ve been through far worse than this.” Michael walked over and wrapped her up in a hug. “We’ll get through these times just like the other ones, okay?”

“Okay. I’m sorry.”

She pulled away and looked him in the eye. “What about Charmer? He makes me worry, Michael.”

“He isn’t going to do anything, don’t worry. I’ve killed mutant monsters and defectors, and survived how many dives? I think I can handle a one-eyed con artist.”

Layla reached out to Michael. “You are the best of us all, Michael, and you were born to lead.” She sighed. “I just don’t want to lose you, and selfishly, I want you here with us more.”

“I want that, too. You know I do.”

“I know.” She glanced down and then up, meeting his eyes.

Michael put a finger on her cheek. “I love you.”

“I love you, and I know you’ll keep us all safe—not just our family, but the islands.” She nodded. “Now, go do what you do best.”

He smiled back and went to kiss Bray, who was awake in his crib, watching through the wood bars. He smiled as Michael entered and bent down.

“Dada,” he babbled.

“I love you, little buddy,” he said. “Be good for your mom. Can you say mama?”

“Dada,” Bray said.

Michael chuckled and Layla did, too. She was okay with the fact their son’s first word was Dada. Mama had followed closely after, but this morning it seemed he was being stubborn.

“I’ll see you tonight,” Michael said.

He left at sunrise with his backpack and laser rifle strapped. He brushed a strand of hair from his eyes when he got to the top of the capitol tower.

On the horizon, the Immortal was bustling with activity. Smaller boats surrounded the craft, delivering last-minute supplies and the crew and soldiers.

Michael walked across the rooftop, passing through the gardens and forest. Workers were already out, tending the fruit trees and bushes for anything ripe.

The Vanguard was on the other side, preparing for takeoff. The airship would travel most of the way on the deck of the Immortal, but first they had to load it up.

Rodger was doing just that, with a group of Hell Divers carrying crates of supplies.

“Hey, Rodge,” Michael said.

Rodger wiped his brow on his sleeve and turned. “Oh, mornin’, Michael. Glad to see you, because I’ve made a decision.”

“Yeah?”

“I’m headed on the mission. Hope that’s okay.”

His voice sounded almost sad.

“Just wanted to make sure you’re okay with that,” Rodger said.

“Yes, of course. I know you want to be with Magnolia.”

Rodger glanced over at the divers, not replying.

“I’ve got a meeting in the CIC,” Michael said. “If I don’t see you before you leave, good luck.”

Rodger held out a hand. “You, too, buddy.”

“You sure you’re okay?” Michael asked as they shook.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine.”

“Okay, see you soon, Rodger Dodger.”

Michael walked away, feeling uneasy about his friend. But he had plenty to keep his mind occupied. He started his tour, meeting with the engineers responsible for the airship’s various systems.

Crews were going over every safety check. At the airship’s farm, the rows of plants were being tended and, in some cases, harvested.

The extra food would help them stretch the current supply on the islands a few more days, but Michael knew that the numbers were bleak.

By midmorning, he was in the CIC for the final briefing. Captain Rolo was there with his XO, Eevi, and the small crew of officers sitting at their stations. King Xavier had joined them to hear the report of the airship’s status. It was missing a turbofan after the attack by the glowing leviathan monsters. The power cells were at half capacity, but they had flown in far worse conditions.

“I’m signing off on deployment,” Michael said. “The ship has some issues, but I’m confident she’ll pull through.”

“That’s reassuring,” Captain Rolo said.

“If the chief says she’ll be okay, that’s good enough for me,” X said.

Michael raised an eyebrow, waiting for the captain to continue, but Rolo turned and went to the leather chair in front of the big oak wheel.

“Good luck, everyone,” Michael said.

He left the CIC and headed back outside with X. Ton and Victor followed close behind.

The sun rose high above the horizon.

“I’m gonna miss that view,” X said. He adjusted the Marine Corps hat on his head and then put a hand on Michael’s arm. “But protecting that view is why I’m returning to the darkness—to save the light.”

They embraced for a long moment.

This time, it felt different, as if he might not see X again. But he pushed the thought away.

“You sure you don’t want me to come talk to Charmer and his crew before I leave?” X asked.

“I need to handle this on my own, or I will look weak,” Michael said.

The king sighed. He took off the hat and handed it to Michael. “Hold on to this for me while I’m gone.”

“You love this hat,” Michael said.

“Yeah, but I won’t need it where I’m going,” X replied. “Keep the sun out of your eyes.”

“I will, thank you.”

Michael put it on as X turned to Ton and Victor. He embraced each of them and was gone, off to get Miles and board the ship.

Michael lifted the rim of the hat at the open launch-bay hatches as he passed under the airship.

“Later, Tin!” Magnolia called down.

“We dive so humanity survives, baby!” Arlo shouted.

Edgar raised a hand, and Gran Jefe folded his arms over his chest, staring down at Michael. Tia stood beside Kade, his eyes shadowed by his cowboy hat.

“Dive safe,” Michael said.

With a final wave, he headed to the elevator with his escort. On the way down to the marina, he radioed Steve.

“All good here, Chief. You need anything?”

“Negative,” Michael said. “I’ll be by later today.”

By the time Michael arrived at the marina with Ton and Victor, Lieutenant Wynn was there with six militia soldiers. Michael studied them, all male sky people who were relatively new soldiers. Four were younger than he, but two were in their forties.

They clutched a variety of weapons from shotguns to crossbows. Secondary weapons were holstered on their duty belts. Michael adjusted the strap of his laser rifle and nodded.

“Let’s go,” he ordered.

They boarded the Sea Wolf, and Michael got behind the wheel with Victor. There was no denying the hat was indeed a nice way to keep the sun from his eyes.

“Where are we headed?” Victor asked.

“To remind Charmer who’s in charge.”

A half hour later, the boat pulled up under rig 15, where two men guarded the marina with rifles traded to them by the Cazador Wave Runners soldiers.

“Hold up,” said one of the men.

Michael got out of the boat.

“I said wait . . .”

“It’s okay, mate,” said a smooth voice.

Charmer stepped off a ladder and onto the end of the dock. Oliver came down next, holding his whip.

“To what do I owe the pleasure this morning?” Charmer asked.

“We’re redeploying the militia,” Michael said.

“Is that so?”

“Orders from King Xavier,” Wynn said. He stepped forward, mirrored by Oliver.

“These militia soldiers will remain on your rig at all times,” Michael said. “You are free to have your own weapons, but you must adhere to all Vanguard laws, and the law says the militia is responsible for security.”

“Six? There were two before.”

“Your people weren’t armed before,” Wynn said.

“I resent what you’re implying,” Charmer said. “We just want to be able to defend ourselves.”

“And you have that right,” Michael said. “But we will have guards here at all times.”

The distant Cazador horn blared again.

Charmer held a hand up to shield his one eye.

“The king is leaving,” he said.

Michael turned to see the supercarrier and the airship sailing away from the islands.

“He will be back soon, with supplies and food,” Michael said. He gestured to the guards to head out.

Charmer smiled. “Okay, then,” he said.

Michael started back to the boat with Ton and Victor and Lieutenant Wynn.

“Oh, Chief, did you hear the news?” Charmer asked.

Michael stopped and turned slightly.

Charmer wasn’t smiling now. “Alton, your little mate,” he said. “His mom passed away this morning at the hospital. He’s there now.”

Michael stared at Charmer as he turned with his men and departed.

“One less mouth to feed,” Oliver muttered just loud enough for Michael to hear.

“What did you just say?” Michael said.

Oliver stared at Michael. “Try living a day in the machine camp. Then you would understand how precious this place is.”

“You’d still be in that machine hell if it weren’t for Chief Everhart,” Wynn said.

“We’re grateful, like Charmer said, but this place will wither and die if you keep on with your missions to the wastes.”

“Oliver,” Charmer called out. “Let’s go.”

Oliver left without another word.

“I’m sorry, Chief. The guy is an asshole,” Wynn said.

“Yeah.” Michael closed his eyes for a moment, feeling a deep dread for Alton. He knew exactly how the boy was feeling right now.

Michael hopped back in the boat and roared off to the hospital. The sadness of the news turned to anger at the callousness of Charmer and Oliver.

So much for caring about your own.

Michael’s people weren’t perfect, and they’d had a class system back when the airship was called the Hive, but King Xavier and Michael were doing everything they could to promote equality throughout the islands.

As Michael pulled away on the Sea Wolf, he watched the rig through narrowed eyes.

“I want sitreps from your militia guards daily, Lieutenant Wynn,” he said. “I’ve never trusted Charmer, and I’m really starting to wonder if we can trust his people.”

* * * * *

The bow of the Immortal pushed through the mist that hung like smoke over the Caribbean Sea.

Almost two days after leaving the Vanguard Islands, the supercarrier, with the airship mounted on its deck, was closing in on the Port of Colón, in Panama.

Magnolia was at a viewport in the Vanguard launch bay, which normally provided a good view of the ocean. But today she didn’t see anything beyond the walls of mist.

She turned back to the bay full of divers. The king was below now, somewhere on the supercarrier, making final preparations before reaching Outpost Gateway. But they weren’t there yet.

Everyone was on edge, especially the greenhorns who were heading into the wastes for the first time. The ships were nearing the spot where the glowing whale creatures attacked during the first trip to the Panama Canal.

Most of the divers were at the viewports except Rodger, who was sitting on a crate, whittling a wooden figurine with his pocketknife. He wanted to dive again, but there was simply no way—his prosthetic foot would slow them down and make him a liability.

They still hadn’t filled Ada’s spot, and a glance at the rookie divers confirmed that no one was prepared. Where they were going, Magnolia needed someone she could trust.

The intercom buzzed, and Timothy’s voice surged from the speakers.

“Preparing to enter Limón Bay,” said the AI.

Spotlights on the deck flickered on and were directed north. The bright beams pierced the darkness, scanning the water for wrecks and beasts.

Magnolia looked to the northwest, where the ruined port of Colón emerged. Concrete piers thrust out into the bay. Bows and sterns of ships stuck out of the water like snapped arrows—a bay obliterated by tsunamis and storms over the past two and a half centuries.

“This is where General Forge got Octopus and Ocean Bull?” Arlo asked.

“Yeah, and it’s also where a Cazador raiding party found the traveler who spoke about the Coral Castle,” Magnolia said. “Before they ate him.”

“He probably deserved it,” Gran Jefe said, clicking his teeth. “Or maybe they were just hungry.”

“Not enough flies to eat out there, I guess,” Arlo said.

Gran Jefe laughed. “Carne humano taste better than fly.”

“What the fuck, man! You’re starting to creep me out.”

The hulking Cazador laughed and clapped Arlo on the shoulder. “I joke with you, little man. I only eat a few people, and it was . . . ¿Cómo se dice . . . ?”

Gran Jefe looked up, as if he might find the elusive word written on the overhead.

“Survive?” Edgar asked.

“Sí, to survive,” Gran Jefe replied.

“That’s what they all said,” Sofia chimed in. “I never ate anyone, and I survived.”

Gran Jefe glared at her. “You were whore of el Pulpo. You had best food—”

Before he got his sentence out, Sofia had a knife drawn.

“Call me that one more time and you’ll never fuck again,” she hissed.

Gran Jefe reared back, pierced nostrils flaring.

“Knock this shit off!” Magnolia shouted.

She strode between them. “We’re Hell Divers, and we’re here because our future is once again at stake. Do you understand?”

Magnolia looked to Sofia, who slowly sheathed her knife, then to Gran Jefe, who nodded. Without another word, Magnolia went back to the viewports to look at the harbor below.

The cranes and lifts in the port were gone. Only a few of the former support buildings remained, and those were mostly just structural beams.

Spotlights roved beyond the port and the erased city blocks. Nothing remained standing from a nuclear explosion that had blown down structures in all directions.

Magnolia didn’t know the location, but she searched for the lighthouse documented in the Cazador log. According to the document, that's where the Cazador raiding party had found a traveler from the Coral Castle. If only they had learned more before they ate the poor bastard.

The Coral Castle occupied her thoughts. She was almost obsessing over it at this point, wondering what was down there.

“Mags,” Rodger said.

She kept staring. “Hold on.”

“Mags, there’s something I need to talk to you about.”

She inhaled, exhaled, turned.

“Hey, I think I see some birds,” Tia said.

Magnolia hurried over to the porthole where Tia stood looking. Sure enough, the spotlights tracked a formation of large beasts flying over the jungle on the edge of the ruined city.

“Those aren’t birds,” Arlo said. “Those are Sirens.”

“Can’t be,” Edgar said.

“Why?” Magnolia asked.

“Because there wasn’t an ITC facility in Colón, remember? We looked in the archives.”

Magnolia stared at the abominations circling like vultures over a carcass. Edgar was right; there wasn’t supposed to be a facility here.

“That means they’re migrating,” Magnolia said. “Maybe they’re exhausting their resources in one place and moving to another. Just hope they can’t cross the ocean.”

The Immortal pushed through Limón Bay, entering the bottleneck on the southern tip. Bright searchlights moved over the water and shore as they entered the Aqua Clara Locks. The enlarged canal was just wide enough for the supercarrier to pass through.

On the bright side, the narrow fit provided a great view of the apocalyptic wastelands on both sides.

Timothy came over the intercom again to announce they were entering Gatún Lake. The lights danced across the calm black surface.

From that point, Magnolia began to relax. They had made it through without being detected by the glowing sea monsters or anything else.

“We’re in the home stretch now,” she said to Edgar.

Sofia put her hand on Magnolia. “I’m sorry about that,” she said. “But I won’t let Gran Jefe disrespect me.”

“I don’t expect you to, but you can’t go drawing a knife on a fellow Hell Diver.”

“I know, I’m just stressed. I miss Rhino Jr. Maybe I . . .”

Magnolia could see regret in Sofia’s eyes. She had encouraged her to stay back with her son, but Sofia believed they still needed her as a diver, especially now.

“Don’t worry about it,” Magnolia said. “Just make sure you got your head in the right place.”

“I will, I promise.”

Magnolia walked over to Rodger. He continued to whittle a curiously shaped hunk of wood.

“Rodge,” she said.

He looked up, shifting his glasses farther up his nose.

“You want to talk to me?” she asked.

“Yeah . . .”

Footsteps drew their attention. Kade appeared with his cowboy hat clutched against his chest. “Sorry, I can come back,” he said.

“No, it’s okay,” Rodger said. “HD official business. I get it.”

“This will only take a few minutes,” Magnolia said.

She followed Kade over to a private area outside the lockers, directly under Team Wrangler’s new banner.

“I think we need to decide who’s going to replace Ada,” Kade said. “If King Xavier wants two teams to go down, they need to be full teams, in my opinion.”

“I know, but who’s ready?”

They both cast another casual glance at the greenhorns.

“Chester seems like he has good instincts,” Kade said.

“You knew him from the machine camp?” Magnolia asked.

“Yes, he was from the ITC Malenkov.”

She looked at the square-jawed young man with blue eyes and a shaved head. He was fit and smart and had nailed each training dive, but he was a terrible shot. She feared what he would do under pressure with a weapon, and they couldn’t send him down there unarmed.

Magnolia didn’t have time to consider the other divers again. An alarm blared, a red light circling in the corners of the bay.

The intercom crackled with Timothy’s raised voice.

“Level three threat. Everyone to their shelters,” he said.

For a moment, no one in the launch bay moved. Magnolia whistled with her fingers over the alarm.

“Let’s go!” Kade shouted.

They all ran to their racks, pulling the bars over their chest armor. Magnolia went down the row, making sure everyone was locked in.

Chester was fumbling with his—another indication he might choke under pressure when things got dicey.

“Gran Jefe, help him,” Magnolia said.

Gran Jefe grunted as he helped lock Chester into position. Magnolia went to a porthole, where she saw armored Cazador soldiers fanning across the deck with machine guns and flamethrowers.

Magnolia scanned the water for glowing lights but saw nothing.

“Commander, do you know what the hell is going on?” Arlo asked.

“I’m going to find out,” Magnolia said.

She ran over to an intercom link and pushed the button to connect to command. “Timothy, this is Commander Katib, do you copy?”

“Copy, Commander.”

“Why are we on lockdown?”

“We haven’t been able to establish contact with Outpost Gateway,” he said. “They stopped responding two hours ago, when we were first within range.”

Magnolia cursed. “Okay, keep me updated,” she said.

She moved back over to the divers and racked in with them as she explained the news.

They weren’t far from the outpost now, and Timothy confirmed their ETA over the intercom.

“All nonessential personnel stay in your shelters. We are preparing to dock in fifteen minutes,” he said.

Magnolia stared out the viewport to her right. In a few minutes, she should be able to see the new construction at the outpost.

She looked over at Rodger. He was staring at the deck, uninterested in any doings outside. Something was decidedly wrong with her best friend and lover, but they would have the long voyage to Australia to talk about whatever was on his mind.

A flare streaked away from the deck, whistling and arcing into the sky, in the direction of the outpost.

“There it is!” Kade called out.

Magnolia looked out the viewport again. The mist rose over the concrete banks of the canal. In the flare’s glow, she identified the shipping containers forming a wall around the outpost.

Spotlights on the deck of the ship roved over the ground, capturing the orange and red shells of the breeders’ nightmarish spawn littering the ground around the outpost. Her heart sank.

“They were attacked,” Edgar said.

“Big monsters? Or pequeño like Arlo?” Gran Jefe asked.

“Shut your gob for once, you smelly beast,” Arlo replied.

“Both of you, shut it,” Magnolia hissed without taking her eyes off the banks of the canal. Through the mist, the beams picked up more carcasses. They seemed to form a halo around the wall of containers. One of the armored beasts was staked to the dirt, a Cazador spear still jutting from its shell.

Two pincer claws hung from the closed gate, the broken carcass they had belonged to lying nearby on the ground. Dead spawn were strewn across the ground, their armored bodies blown apart by high-caliber rounds.

Other shells had burn marks from laser bolts.

It looked as though the soldiers had put up one hell of a fight, but Magnolia didn’t see anyone out there—not moving, anyway.

Two Cazador corpses lay in the mud off the embankment, hacked to pieces. One was missing both legs, the other an arm. That no one had come to remove the bodies wasn’t a good sign.

She felt heartsick at the thought of losing the outpost.

The crack of gunfire sounded from the deck.

Below, a pair of Cazador machine gunners unloaded at the shoreline with the mounted .50-caliber machine guns. A half-dozen spawn skittered away, some exploding into pieces that tumbled down the bank. Only two made it into the dark canal.

The machine guns fell silent as the ship slowed.

“Bloody hell, it’s still there,” Kade said.

Magnolia followed his finger toward the red and yellow Vanguard Islands flag with a large V in the middle of a blazing sun. The flag flapped lazily in the breeze over the outpost’s barricade of shipping containers.

A soldier emerged on a container, cradling a rifle. He turned and waved to someone.

The gates opened, the pincer claws still on them. The metal doors pushed the shelled carcass out of the way, revealing the inside of the outpost.

A man with two prosthetic legs stepped out, carrying a crossbow.

“That’s Lieutenant Bromista,” Edgar said.

Bromista limped out onto the dirt, followed by an entire squad of Cazador soldiers in bloody, mud-caked armor.

“I bet those fellas have a hell of a story to tell,” Kade said.

“Can we unlock now?” Arlo asked, his tone almost rueful.

“Yeah, but don’t get comfortable,” Magnolia said. “We’re heading out as soon as we drop off the supplies.”

She pushed up the crossbars and followed Rodger over to his gear. He bent down and picked up his bag, throwing it over his shoulder. A hazard suit popped out partially. He stuffed it back in and zipped the bag.

“Rodge?” she said.

He looked up.

“You ready to talk?” she asked. “What’s going on?”

Rodger stared at her with the saddest eyes she could remember since his parents died.

“Rodge, what’s wrong?”

“I’m leaving.”

“What do you mean, leaving?”

“I’ve accepted the director position at Outpost Gateway.”

She chuckled. “That’s not funny.”

It took her another beat to realize he wasn’t kidding.

“I’ve been trying to talk to you since you got back, Mags,” Rodger said. “You never listen, and you didn’t even say goodbye when you deployed to Australia.”

“Rodge, I’m sorry. I . . . Things will—”

“Change?” Rodger shook his head. “They never change, Mags.” He held her gaze a moment, his eyes brimming with tears. He looked away and reached into his pocket, pulling out something wrapped in a bit of sailcloth.

“Here,” he said.

She took the lightweight object.

“Rodger,” she said. “Please . . .”

“I love you, Magnolia, and I always will, but that isn’t enough for you.”

He picked up his bag and walked out of the launch bay.

She stood there in shock, holding the gear bag in her hand. Her heart thumped, telling her to run after him, but her mind told her it wouldn’t matter.

He had made up his mind.

The launch-bay doors sealed behind him, and she unfolded the cloth to find a wood carving of a bird. In the talons was a tiny scroll of paper.

She opened it up and read it under her breath.

“Now you are free to fly.”

eight

A week after leaving the Panama Canal, the airship Vanguard ripped through the clouds, trembling from turbulence as the thrusters eased.

Kade hated that feeling worse than almost anything in life. It was something he had zero control over, and while the ship was built to withstand storms, it was always one unlucky lightning strike away from disaster.

A sea of electricity sizzled along the skyline.

On the horizon was the Great Barrier Reef, and the Queensland coast beyond.

At the helm of the airship, King Xavier stared into the darkness. The Immortal was far slower and would take an extra two days to reach Australia. For now, the king and his divers were heading back to scout the lighthouses a second time and come up with a game plan.

“This storm is strange,” Eevi said, watching her monitor. “I’m picking up some very odd readings.”

Captain Rolo walked over, hands behind his back, to check out the screen. The one trait about him that no one could deny was his refusal to make any meaningful decision until he had considered every possible consequence and ramification. But his mind was not as quick as it once was—in fact, Kade wasn’t sure Rolo could still make the right decision.

The machine camp had changed them all, broken them into pieces. Being rescued and transported to the Vanguard Islands had helped glue those pieces together, but none of Rolo’s people would ever be as they were before that fateful day.

“We need to find an alternative route,” Rolo said. “We go through there, and we’re not coming out.”

“And going above it?” X asked.

“Not possible according to these readings,” Eevi confirmed.

“As I said before,” Timothy added, “I was hopeful the storms would have shifted some, but they remain as strong as before.”

X muttered a few curses. “Fine, plot us a new route, then, Captain,” he said.

While the officers huddled around navigation, Kade went over to Magnolia. She was standing in front of the viewports, arms folded across her chest plates. This was how she had been most of the trip, staring at nothing, her mind burdened with worry.

Something had happened between her and Rodger back in Panama, when he left the airship and didn’t get back on, but Kade wasn’t one to pry. He didn’t like getting into other people’s business, and he didn’t like other people in his.

He cared only that she be mentally fit for what awaited them.

“Commander,” Kade said.

Magnolia turned slightly. “Yes?”

“Have you gotten any sleep?”

“A bit.”

Kade could tell she was lying. She looked exhausted, not remotely ready for a dive if it came to that.

“Perhaps some shut-eye would be in order, mate,” he suggested.

She turned all the way now, raising a brow.

“Commander,” he corrected.

“I don’t take naps.”

“Okay, suit yourself.”

Lightning forked across the bow, followed by a sharp thunderclap seconds later. The ship trembled—a good distraction.

Magnolia staggered away from the windows, grabbing a chair for support. Kade exhaled. She was a stubborn woman, that was for bloody well sure.

“That storm is expanding,” Eevi announced.

“Take us down to ten thousand feet,” Rolo ordered. “Then we proceed west along this edge of the storm.”

He pointed at a screen Kade couldn’t see.

The airship thrummed as the engines redirected power.

“As a matter of caution, all nonessential personnel please report to your shelters,” Rolo said over the comms.

Kade took the seat by Magnolia in the gallery and strapped in. There was nothing to do but wait and watch.

All around them, the officers stared intently at their screens, some of them repeating information and data about air pressure, temperature, battery percentages, engine output—things Kade didn’t know much about.

What he did know was they were on the outskirts of a storm that ballooned out from the Sunshine Coast down to the Gold Coast. Rain pounded the viewports as they lowered.

“Fifteen thousand feet,” Timothy reported.

Another tremor rocked the airship.

Thunderclaps sounded like grenades on the flanks of the ship. A memory surfaced in Kade, of the journey over a decade ago, across the Atlantic Ocean to Mount Kilimanjaro. They had hit a storm just like this: unpredictable, massive, and relentless.

He thought of his wife and boys. The fear they had all gone through on that journey, and the hope when they reached their destination.

“Dad, do we actually get to touch the ground tomorrow?” Sean had asked Kade.

Kade had been hopeful that the risk was worth the reward.

And now here he was again with Captain Rolo, heading through a storm to yet another place that promised salvation.

He recalled the message he and Magnolia had discovered at the Lady Elliot Lighthouse off the Great Barrier Reef.

“Hello, and welcome to the Coral command room. My name is Jana, and if you are hearing this message, you are one of the lucky few who survived World War Three. We have food, supplies, and shelter for those who can make it to the trident beyond the Sunshine Coast. Wait there, and a team will guide you to our location.”

The message was eerily similar to the one he had discovered at Mount Rushmore over a decade earlier, on a dive that started them on the trail that led to death.

Had he just done the same thing again?

Kade shifted uneasily in his chair.

This is different, he thought. The machines are destroyed.

He still felt the lump of dread in his gut.

For the next hour, the storm grew more violent, as if reaching out for the airship with unseen arms and rattling the hull.

The ship lurched violently, triggering an emergency alarm.

“Hell, we just took a right lickin’,” Kade said.

“Damage report,” Rolo said.

“Panel four on the starboard hull is damaged,” Timothy reported.

“We’re vulnerable, Captain,” Eevi said. “We get hit in that sector again, the ship is going to take major damage—could even be fatal.”

Kade trusted the panels protecting the outer hull, but without them, they could get lit up any second.

Captain Rolo relayed new coordinates, and the airship again pulled away from the storm that fired the horizon with an electric-blue shimmer. The clouds bulged outward as if trying to chase the airship.

The bow dipped lower toward the Pacific Ocean.

For the next hour, Captain Rolo kept them back from the storm’s outer edges, using his expertise to keep the airship safe, for now.

Finally, he cleared his throat and announced, “There is no way around this storm and no way to go above it. That is very clear.”

X got out of his seat and walked up to the viewports before turning. For a moment, Kade worried he was going to disagree. But even the king knew that would be suicide. The winds would literally tear them apart.

“If we can’t go above, around, or through, then we must go below,” X said.

“Impossible,” Rolo said. “There is no way we can avoid the lightning. Direct hits are inevitable.”

“I don’t mean taking the airship below.”

X gestured to Kade.

“Commander Long, come with me,” he said. “Captain Rolo, lower the ship to the surface at the following coordinates.”

X walked over to a monitor and pointed while Kade listened, unsure he had heard correctly.

“Armor up, Commander,” X said. “We’re headed to the surface.”

Kade unbuckled his harness. Magnolia also unlocked her belt.

“Not you, Commander Katib,” X said. “You need sleep, and to clear your head.”

“I’m fine, X, I can dive.”

“We’re not diving,” X said. “We’re taking a boat I brought along for precisely this reason.”

He turned and started out of the room with Kade in tow. Miles, who had been camped out on the deck for most of the trip, ran ahead, tail wagging.

They hurried down to the bottom level, where two guards held sentry outside a hatch.

“Don’t worry, lads,” X said. “Just a little rain and lightning.”

The men chuckled. Nervous laughter.

Inside the cargo hold, a group of six heavily armored soldiers waited. They all came to attention, pounding their chest armor.

Kade recognized the Barracuda logo which displayed the elongated fish with its distinct striped pattern along the length of its scaly body. The open mouth revealed the menacing jagged teeth, and two spears crossed to form an X behind it.

This was the brand of the infamous Cazador team. They were elite fighters, led by Lieutenant Slayer and Sergeant Blackburn, who had fought their entire lives in the wastes.

“Lieutenant Slayer,” X said. “You ready to see Australia?”

“You’re gonna love it,” Kade said. “We had the deadliest creatures before the apocalypse.”

“As you all know, this is Hell Diver Commander Long, and he will be joining us for recon,” X said. “Now, what’s that saying I keep hearing, something about fornicating spiders?”

Kade couldn’t help but laugh. “I’m not here to fuck spiders,” he said.

“And that means ‘let’s go’?”

Kade shrugged. “Yeah, more or less.”

X slapped him on his shoulder plate. “And I’m not here to fuck spiders, either.”

“We ready?” Slayer asked.

“You’re all set.” The technician undid the hatch and opened it. “I’ll lower you down once you’re all in.”

Kade secured his helmet while X helped Miles into his radiation suit. After they had geared up and loaded their weapons, they lined up at a ladder under the deck. When it was Kade’s turn, he carefully climbed down the rungs to a black stealth tactical boat secured by cables directly under the hull.

It was only ninety feet long, with an armored cabin on the bow large enough for all the men. Razor wire was wrapped around the railings, and multiple weapon turrets were ready to fire flamethrowers, harpoons, and a .50-caliber machine gun.

Kade hopped off the last rung and stared in awe at the massive storm front in the east.

Once everyone including Miles was on the boat, the king relayed a message over the open comms.

“Take us down, Captain,” he said.

Kade looked over the rail as the airship descended toward the turbulent waters below. The excitement around him reminded him of the exhilaration he had felt the day he landed at Mount Kilimanjaro—the day that ended up being the worst in his life.

Again he recalled the message they had uncovered at the Coral command room back at Lady Elliot Island—a trident symbol on the Sunshine Coast, marking a spot where someone would then escort travelers to the Coral Castle.

A chill ran up his spine, and he gripped his rifle and tried to shake off the feeling of dread. The clock was ticking. It wouldn’t be long before the Vanguard Islands ran out of food.

The boat jolted hard, snapping him alert. The airship had stopped and was hovering over the water.

X raised a hand to the technician in the open hatch above. Everyone went inside the boat’s cabin with the king, and Kade shut the hatch. The cables all released simultaneously, dropping the boat onto the water with a splash.

After firing up the engines, X pushed the throttle down, and the boat sped away from the hovering airship.

“Deploying,” X said over the command channel. “Stand by for orders.”

“Copy that,” Rolo replied.

Kade stayed in the cabin with X and Slayer while the rest of the squad went to the deck to man the weapons.

Sergeant Blackburn kept the flamethrower angled over the water as the keel thumped over the waves for the next hour, homing in on the location indicated by the Sandy Cape Lighthouse on Fraser Island. Clouds bulged over the coast, glowing blue from lightning flashes in the belly of the storm.

A half mile from shore, X ordered all lights off and dropped their speed, coasting over white reefs of dead coral. The nervous tension was palpable. Even Miles was up and pacing.

“You see that?” Slayer asked suddenly.

Kade moved across the cabin to look at the bright beam splitting the darkness under the storm. It was definitely coming from a lighthouse.

X followed the light down the coast, stopping each time it clicked off, then starting the motors again. The beam took them to a lighthouse at the tip of Great Sandy National Park.

This light pointed southwest. For another hour they followed it, traveling over thirty miles along the coast, but still not seeing land in the severe weather. The beam from the Great Sandy Lighthouse faded away with the distance, and this time they didn’t see another flashing lighthouse.

Kade examined the dashboard map with Slayer and X, trying to figure out where to go next. The boat bobbed up and down in light chop.

“We still haven’t hit the Point Cartwright Lighthouse,” Slayer said. “That could be where the Great Sandy beam was pointing, and maybe the light at Point Cartwright is offline.”

“Worth a shot,” Kade said.

X pushed the throttle down again, taking them closer to the storm.

Lightning forked in a dazzling display of multiple arcs that seemed to fill half the sky.

“Land!” a soldier on the deck yelled during the prolonged glow.

Kade stepped out into the sheeting rain on the deck and raised his binos in the direction the soldier was pointing. Sure enough, the dark bulk of the coast came into focus. At first, the rocky shoreline, then a single tower. The Point Cartwright Lighthouse.

X eased off the gas and came out on the deck with Miles.

“It’s not working?” he asked.

“I haven’t seen a light yet,” Kade replied.

They waited a few minutes, a half hour, an hour. But the lighthouse stayed dark. X and Kade went back inside as Slayer steered the boat toward the peninsula.

Two cranes on the first dock were bent like pretzels, but those in the second and third docks stood straight. Parked in the slips were a score of ships.

“Bloody hell, those look in decent shape!” Kade said.

X raised a fist for Slayer to cut the engines.

As the boat slowed, Kade peered through his binoculars at the motley fleet of yachts, container ships, and even a pair of cruise liners that dwarfed the smaller vessels.

“I think we just found a new navy,” X said with a laugh.

“This has to be the location of the Coral Castle,” Kade said. “The other lighthouses weren’t pointing at this one; they were pointing at the port.”

X lowered his binos. “How do you know?”

“The map. This is the Sunshine Coast, and the transmission we picked up at Lady Elliot was something like ‘Make it to the trident beyond the sunshine shore. Wait there, and a team will guide you to our location.’”

They went out onto the deck again, with Miles following X like his second shadow.

The craft bobbed up and down as the squad trained their weapons on the port.

X stepped in front of everyone. “Welcome to the Sunshine Coast, where the sun don’t shine.”

nine

The radiation readings climbed, leveled off, climbed some more.

X stood on the tactical boat and watched the rads tick higher on his wrist computer. They were sixty-two miles north of Brisbane, where a nuclear blast had leveled the city. He shuddered to think how bad the radiation was there.

“Son of a bitch,” he murmured.

The boat glided between a rock wall and the Point Cartwright Lighthouse peninsula and entered the gray-green waters of the Mooloolah River. It was going to be a tight squeeze trying to get the supercarrier Immortal into this port. But first, X had to make sure this was indeed the location of the Coral Castle. This clearly wasn’t the first group to come here searching for something. Hundreds of boats and even a few ships were moored in slips on the many piers built along the river.

Miles stood next to X as Slayer maneuvered the boat up the placid waterway. It was always a risk to have his dog with him, but Miles and X were partners. Moreover, the hybrid Siberian husky had a nose that could sniff out a beast a mile away, and instincts that not even veteran Hell Divers or Barracuda soldiers could match.

The Cazador crack troops were positioned around the deck, watching every angle. X had made it a point to learn their names: Lieutenant Slayer, of course, and Sergeant Blackburn, as well as Corporals Khan, Sidner, Mazo, and Daunte. The four corporals were all born and raised on the Vanguard Islands and conversed in Spanish.

They were muscular and tall, though not big like some whom X had known and fought with. He would never forget Whale, or that bear of a woman Wendig, or his friend and confidant Rhino.

He still felt sad over Rhino’s death. God, what X wouldn’t give to have the larger-than-life warrior with him now.

X rested the laser rifle’s barrel on his prosthetic arm and scanned the piers on the starboard side with the infrared scope.

No heat signatures moved in the display, but someone, or something, was out there.

These ships weren’t left in the port like this during the war or even in the immediate aftermath.

The two cruise liners had been here the longest. Many windows were broken, and most of their paint was long gone, replaced with rust.

But both the colossal ships were still afloat—a rare sight in the wastes. It was hard to say whether they came here ten years or a century ago, but one thing was certain: these people had come here looking for the Coral Castle and the promise of salvation.

Slayer slowly motored the stealth assault boat up the river until they came to a collapsed bridge in the water. It was possible to steer between the sunken members, but X couldn’t see any other ships or boats in that direction.

He motioned to turn around, and back they went, toward the two ships.

X looked up at the first cruise liner as they passed. He could make out the faded image of a mouse, or a rat perhaps, on the hull.

“What do you think, sir?” Kade asked.

“I think we go out and search,” X replied. “Find out where these people went, and see if they left behind anything of value.”

“I’ll tell Lieutenant Slayer.”

X stood at the rail with Miles.

The boat motored along a pier, and Slayer guided them toward a slip. He killed the engine, and Khan jumped onto the dock to hold them in place while Sidner secured bow and stern lines.

Slayer hurried out on the deck, relaying orders in Spanish. Daunte helped Sergeant Blackburn strap on the flamethrower. Sidner, Khan, and Mazo slung their rifles and each took a spear to go along with the cutlass they wore in a canvas sheath on their duty belts.

“King Xavier, how about putting Miles to use?” Slayer said.

“You read my mind, Lieutenant.”

Blackburn led the way down the dock, which faced a large asphalt parking lot. The scattered remains of vehicles littered the area, along with pieces of boats and fencing.

After a scan, Slayer flashed hand signals breaking everyone up into two teams. Sergeant Blackburn took three soldiers while Slayer split off with X, Miles, and Kade.

The parking lot ended at a cluster of palm trees different from any X had seen before. The deep-red fronds were sharp and curved like Magnolia’s blades.

The two teams approached the cruise liners.

Miles trotted up a gangway that extended down from an open hatch on the second deck. X flicked the tactical light on his rifle and swept it across an open space with a long bar top and a few upended stools. A broken mirror ran the length of the hull behind the bar, reminding him of the Wingman back on the Hive. He had spent a lot of hours on a stool at that bar, gabbing with Marv and drowning his woes with shine.

They took a winding staircase with no rail up two decks to a hallway of private quarters. X and Miles checked out the first stateroom and found it retrofitted since it last saw tourists on holiday. A metal panel blocked the view out, and survival items littered the deck.

He found a pan and an empty propane can, along with a hammer and a bag full of rotting clothes. A tattered blanket lay over a bunk with no mattress.

The ship was starting to remind X of the Hive in more ways than one.

Miles backed out of the quarters, and they continued down the passage. Warped panels hung from the overhead, some pieces completely gone, exposing the inside of the bulkhead.

There was no sign of the former passengers, but X could imagine what had happened here. The ship would have had only so much food, and without the ability to grow more as they could on the Hive, they would have been forced to raid.

He wondered how long these people had been on the ship before coming here. The presence of so many ships and boats in the port suggested that they had come here together.

Perhaps this was a flotilla that survived an ocean voyage. Or maybe they had all just answered the same transmission that Magnolia and Kade discovered.

The only way to find the truth was to keep searching.

X entered another passage, where velvety black mold clung to the hull. Miles perked at a door and discovered the first skeleton, slumped in a maintenance closet.

X’s flashlight showed the cause of death: a hole in the forehead, and a much bigger hole in the back.

Poor bastard was executed.

“King Xavier, we found something you should see,” Slayer said over the comms.

X stood in what had once been a beautiful ballroom. The chandeliers had crashed onto the deck except for one, which had three mummified bodies hanging from it by chains wrapped around their necks.

“Looks like we found some of the crew,” Slayer said.

“What makes you think they were the crew?” X asked.

The lieutenant bent down and fished out a silver wing from a pile of decayed clothing. Then a second wing, and a third.

“They were officers,” he said.

X tried to imagine the scene.

“Did you find anything else? Anything of value?”

“Place has been picked clean, and Sergeant Blackburn just reported the same on the other ship,” Slayer said. “The good news is, that means whoever survived probably took their shit with them.”

“Yeah, but where?” X said. “We still have no idea where this Coral Castle entrance is.”

“It’s supposed to be an underwater city,” Slayer said. “Maybe we’re in the wrong place, after all.”

“Kade, what do you think?” X asked.

“I think we need to look for the trident in the message, but I also think we should wait until reinforcements arrive.”

X bumped on the command channel to the airship.

“Captain Rolo, do you copy?” he said.

They heard a loud crackle like twigs breaking, followed by a faint voice.

“Captain Rolo, if you can hear me, deploy a drone to our location,” X said. He relayed the coordinates over the comm.

“Copy,” came the barely audible response.

“Tell Sergeant Blackburn to meet us outside,” X said to Slayer.

The Barracudas regrouped in the parking lot where they had started.

The black drone met them there, hovering by its four small turbofans. It was a bit smaller than Cricket had been, probably the size of an old-world hawk.

X took control with his wrist computer, and the drone blasted ahead, transmitting aerial footage to his HUD. Many of the buildings had survived, including homes and condos built along the river and port.

Beyond the residential zone sprawled an expanse of nothing but black earth. According to the minimap, it was once a country club, whatever the hell that was.

The drone continued to a ruined airport—a few runways, and mounds where the concourses had long since collapsed into rubble.

X waved the team onward, through the parking lot and toward the jungle growing along the residential area he had seen in the drone footage.

A brilliant flash of lightning illuminated the dense vegetation across the river, capturing a view of gangly trees with twisting roots and vines. Wartlike protuberances covered trunks and lower limbs.

“What are those?” X whispered.

“Spore sacs,” Kade replied. “I’ve seen them before. That’s no ordinary jungle, sir.”

A shriek rang out in the lull after the thunder, and the canopy of trees shifted.

The Barracudas heard the shriek and saw the strange coordinated movement and fanned out to set up a perimeter.

Sergeant Blackburn stepped out in front of the squad with his flamethrower while X waved Miles back.

They stood there scanning the other side of the river.

“Switch to infrared,” Slayer ordered.

X activated the optics built into his HUD but saw no heat signatures. After an hour on the ground, they had yet to see any life-form bigger than a bug.

But just because they didn’t see anything didn’t mean there was nothing to see.

A chirping distracted him, and his eyes flitted to his HUD.

On it, the drone was hovering over another harbor, north of them. More ships and boats were docked there. He pulled up his minimap. The destination was about two miles away.

He wanted to check the vessels out.

“Back to the boat,” he said. “Let’s move.”

Retreating to the assault craft, the squad pushed it out into the water and hopped aboard.

X got behind the wheel. The engines choked on the first try, then rumbled.

X thought he heard another shriek, but Miles didn’t seem to notice anything. Maybe it was just his mind playing tricks on him.

The boat cruised out of the bay into the Coral Sea, following the shoreline to the mouth of the Maroochy River. They passed Pincushion Island on their starboard side and Maroochydore Beach to port.

A large island rose out of the river, covered in towers of mushrooms. Warty white spore sacs hung from the branches of trees like mutant fruit.

X pulled around the island to starboard and headed into a marina. Hearing a growl, he got up from the seat and looked outside.

Miles had left the cabin and was on the bow next to Sergeant Blackburn, who swung the .50-caliber machine gun toward the boats in the marina. There were three ships and maybe ten smaller boats. X still didn’t see what Miles was growling at, but something had the dog spooked.

“Slayer, take over,” he said.

Switching places with the soldier, X went to the deck outside. Miles kept his eyes, ears, and nose on the shoreline, not bothering to turn as X stepped up next to Blackburn.

“See anything?” X asked.

Blackburn grunted his response with a shake of his helmet.

The command channel hissed with a message from the airship.

“King Xavier, this is Timothy Pepper, do you copy?” said the AI.

“Copy, Pepper, what you got?”

“The drone is sending an error code. I’m sorry, but I will have to recall it to the Vanguard for maintenance.”

“Damn,” X said. “Slayer, tell your men to get ready. We’re going ashore again to check out the ships.”

The boat came to a bridge that X hadn’t seen in the early drone footage. The center had collapsed, and a ship had crashed into the right side.

“Hey, over there,” Kade said. “That’s some real firepower.”

X scoped the bridge. On it, a pair of tanks had their cannons angled at the water, one upstream, one down. There were other vehicles, too, including a large military truck with a shipping container on the back.

Deciding to check out the vehicles later, X motioned Slayer to return to the marina full of boats. Slowly the assault craft passed beneath them, the soldiers scanning them with their weapons. Blackburn pointed at one, speaking rapidly in Spanish.

“What?” X asked.

Slayer put the boat in neutral and stepped out of the cabin.

“King Xavier, you’re not going to believe this, but . . . that’s the Sea Sprite,” he said.

“The what . . .” The realization hit X hard as he stared at the rusted vessel. “The Cazador search party did make it here after all.”

“I guess so, sir.”

They came up alongside the large research ship. Dead vines clung to the hull, as if it had sailed through a jungle.

Other than the vines, the ship appeared in decent shape, and X noticed the image of a fairylike creature on the upper command center—one of the only areas of the ship not covered in the dead vines.

They pulled into a slip and tethered the assault boat to the pier. Slayer took point, with X and Miles right behind him. Over the edge of the dock, X noticed yellow lily pads and vines that reached up out of the water. Some of the tendrils curled up onto the dock.

Slayer steered them around the glistening strings of vegetation, to the stern of the Sea Sprite. Halfway along the hull, a heavy rope net hung over the side, which told X that whoever had used it to go down never came back up. Otherwise, they would have retracted it.

Miles whined softly in response to X.

“Stay,” he said. “Commander Long, you, Sergeant Blackburn, and Corporal Daunte hold security and watch my dog.”

X and Slayer started up the heavy rope netting to the deck of the ship. Sidner, Khan, and Mazo climbed up after them, rifles all up, tac lights flitting back and forth.

Mushrooms with caps the size of his head grew in patches across the deck.

Scattered amid the toxic vegetation were piles of heavy rope, some tires, and stacked crates. A fishing pole and two harpoons lay near the hatch to the cabins in the stern.

Slayer went inside first, with X right behind him.

The toxic spores had sprouted inside, too, their fruiting bodies hanging from the hull and the overhead. The team searched the first few quarters, finding nothing. Then the galley, which had only a scattering of pots and utensils.

The captain’s quarters had a steel hatch. Slayer turned the handle. It clicked, unlocked. He opened it to a small space that the toxic jungle seemed to have spared. The quarters were furnished with a broken-down wooden desk and bare metal chairs. Tattered hardcover books were tucked away on a shelf, and several grimy cracked frames hung from the hulls, but X was more interested in the logs on the desk.

Slayer started going through them, opening the covers and leafing carefully through the brittle pages.

“All sorts of maps and logs here,” he said. “Going to take a while to go through.”

X rifled through another rack of books next to a bunk.

Barking rang from the deck outside.

He looked out the porthole, which had only a view of the river. The barking grew louder. Angrier. It was ferocious, guttural. This wasn’t his Miles.

X burst out of the quarters and down the passage, to hear a second, then a third dog barking outside.

He ran out onto the deck.

A blast of fire shot out from the pier into the mutant weeds and trees that overgrew the port. In the shadows, movement from tree to tree.

X started climbing down the net to Miles and the men below.

Halfway down, he looked over his shoulder and identified the source of the barking. A brown dog the size of a man prowled on muscular legs. Two heads protruded from a thick neck with dorsal spikes.

It bolted forward toward Sergeant Blackburn, who let loose another wave of flames. Two more of the dogs loped out of the underbrush.

The soldiers all opened fire with their laser bolts, but these beasts were fast. They all seemed to avoid the fire by leaping back and forth, making it hard as hell to get a target.

Four more of the monsters emerged from the tree line bordering the marina, their spiked hackles up and their dual heads snarling and slavering.

X jumped to the ground and moved over to Miles, who barked at his mutant relatives. Unslinging his rifle, X propped the barrel on his prosthetic arm and aimed at the lead monster in the pack of three.

They were all racing down the pier toward Sergeant Blackburn, their muscular legs flexing as their paws pounded the concrete.

“Get out of the way!” X yelled.

He couldn’t get a clear shot with Blackburn’s massive body and fuel tank in the way.

The sergeant raked the barrel back and forth, spraying a wave of flames at the dogs. They closed in for the kill, undeterred by the fire or the laser bolts lancing at them from overhead.

The front monster dog went down, howling from a bolt that burned off one pointed ear. It rolled, then dashed away.

Slayer, Sidner, Khan, and Mazo all fired from the deck of the ship, forcing the beasts to scatter. The largest of the pack jumped up into a tree, howling from the branches. Then it, too, retreated.

The abominations of nature remained hidden in the mutant jungle, finally leery of the weapons they had probably never encountered before.

“What were those hellish things?” Slayer asked.

“Shit a brick, I think those are some mutant version of a dingo,” Kade said. “Two-headed dingos.”

X said to Slayer, “Did you get the logs?”

“Right here,” Slayer said, holding up his pack.

“Good. Let’s get back to the boat.”

They all turned and started down the pier. The animals kept up the din, but the guttural sounds remained in the same location, not drawing closer.

It took X a moment to realize they were missing someone.

“Where’s Daunte?” Slayer asked.

The Barracudas all halted about a hundred yards from their boat. Miles growled again, but this time he had rotated toward the river.

A trail of blood streaked away from the dock to the water.

“Ah, shit,” X whispered.

A crunching noise drew all gun muzzles to the boat.

On the bow, a meaty figure stood next to the machine-gun turret. X switched to infrared, but this beast had no heat signature.

“Lights,” X said.

The beams shot out, illuminating a hideous creature standing on what looked like a thick reptilian tail that connected to a torso and chest with bark-like skin. The shoulders had to be three times the girth of a man’s shoulders, and it had four arms covered in some sort of bony coral-like substance.

Using one of the arms, it raised an object with a heat signature. X zoomed in on the upper half of a human body, with a spinal column dangling from under the chest armor.

“Daunte,” he muttered.

A prehensile arm ripped the dead Cazador’s body from the armor with a sickening crunch. The face came into view: a single reptilian eyeball flitting toward the meat in its three-clawed hand.

The head then tilted back, opening a wide gullet. It stuffed the entire upper half of Daunte down its wide throat, crunching with unseen teeth.

“Bloody hell, shoot it!” Kade shouted.

“No, wait!” Slayer yelled. “Nothing we can do for Daunte, and we need the boat.”

The men remained in defensive positions, aiming at the abomination but holding their fire. A gurgling sounded from its midsection. Then it angled its head at the men, sniffed the air with slits where a nose should be, and slithered off the boat.

The soldiers stayed put for several minutes, and X realized that the dingos had stopped barking.

Whatever this thing was, it had scared them off.

X finally motioned for the squad to return to the boat. They started down the pier, moving slowly, weapons shifting back and forth.

A crunching came from behind them, and X whirled as the creature burst up from the water. It emitted a trumpeting sound.

The beast swiped with two arms, snagging Sergeant Blackburn with one. Blackburn yelped and let loose a blast from his flamethrower.

X dived down to Miles, wrapping him up and rolling away from the flames.

When he glanced up, a second creature had flanked them, emitting the same trumpeting cries. The single eyeball high on its barky forehead fixed on X.

X shielded the dog as the soldiers’ grunts and screams filled the spaces between gunfire. Another wave of flame rushed toward him and Miles, forcing him to move. All the while, X kept his body over the whimpering animal.

An explosion boomed behind them, slamming into X and knocking him toward the edge of the dock. Still holding Miles, he stared down into the murky water. In the reflection, he saw the source of the blast.

Their boat was on fire.

“King Xavier, get up!” Kade shouted.

Someone reached down and helped X up with Miles. The other Barracudas formed a phalanx around them, laying down covering fire as the two beasts finally slithered back into the water.

“Run!” Slayer screamed.

“¿Dónde? ” Blackburn shouted back.

X looked from their burning boat to the bridge in the distance.

“To those tanks,” he said. “Now!”

ten

Ton and Victor escorted Michael and Steve across a bridge connecting rigs 3, 4, and 5—also called the Nest. He didn’t come here often, but he decided it would be good to be out amid the Cazador population. They were still without electricity on one of these rigs, and he was here to deliver a battery with Steve and fulfill his promise to Councilman Martino Lupe.

This was the councilor’s home, also home to half the Cazador population.

Ton and Victor held point and rear guard respectively as Michael and his deputy walked across the bridge with the crate containing the battery. Hundreds of faces peered from balconies and open decks on the rigs, watching Michael and his entourage.

Some of them clacked their sharpened teeth; others glared with suspicion.

They didn’t worry him. Lately, he felt more trust for these people than for the sky people from Mount Kilimanjaro. It was odd, considering that he had helped rescue the latter and had vanquished the former in a war. But dwindling resources had a way of changing people.

The Cazadores, on the other hand, were used to a lack of resources. They had scraped by for two and a half centuries by rationing everything and, in some cases, resorting to cannibalism.

Imulah waited across the bridge, clutching his trusty clipboard.

“Councilman Martino is waiting for you,” he said. “This way, Chief.”

Michael had met Martino only a few times, but Steve seemed to know him well, describing him as the mayor of the Nest—a politician of sorts, who had his hands in all sorts of businesses.

In other conversations, Michael had heard Martino described as a “mob boss,” or “gangster.”

After getting off the bridge, they went inside an enclosed passage that took them through the third deck of rig 4, the central and, at twelve stories, largest of the connected rigs.

As he walked, Michael caught the whiff of fish oil. Loud coughing came from a room he passed. From the corner of his eye, he saw a woman lying on a mattress against a grubby wall, coughing violently.

He kept going, thinking of Alton, who had lost his mom a few days ago. He would go see him in a little while.

He heard a grunt from a cracked door halfway down the hall. At first, Michael wondered if someone was fighting, but then he realized they were sounds of pleasure. Steve laughed as they walked by.

Michael followed Imulah and Victor the rest of the way to a stairwell that took them up to the tenth floor. The door opened to another hallway.

A pair of thin middle-aged Cazador women waited outside a closed door. Both were armed with swords and wore scanty clothing.

Ton was clearly trying not to stare.

Steve pushed his sunglasses up on his scalp and chuckled. “I forgot to tell you, Martino only has female guards.”

“Why is that?” Michael asked.

“Because he can sleep with them. I also forgot to tell you his nickname is Papi Chulo.”

Michael chuckled, but he doubted these women got into bed willingly with that beached manatee Martino.

The women opened the door.

Michael removed his red hat out of respect as he looked into a vast chamber. The space was furnished with a large bed and decorated with octopus paintings on the walls. Ton and Victor remained in the hallway with the women while Imulah, Michael, and Steve entered the large space.

Martino was sitting at a desk facing an open window that overlooked the water. If Michael wasn’t mistaken, the desk was built of bones from a whale.

“Hola, amigo,” Martino said, grunting as he pushed himself up.

Steve handed Michael the heavy-duty plastic case, not much different from the ones they used to carry the airship batteries.

“All charged and ready to go,” Michael said. He walked over with the case. “I like your desk. What is it?”

“Killer whale,” Martino said, nodding at the legs of the desk. “¿Te gusta? ”

“Sí,” Michael said.

He opened the case and showed off the battery.

“Gracias. Sit, por favor,” Martino said. “We have business to talk.”

Imulah started over, but Martino held up a hand. “No scribe, por favor.”

The bald, bearded old scribe looked to Michael, who frowned.

“I’ll go start the installation,” Steve suggested. “We got a few hours of new electrical line we need to spool first if you want to help, Imulah.”

Steve took the case away and left the room with Imulah, who, if Michael heard correctly, had cursed in Spanish under his breath.

The door clicked shut, and Martino took a vial off the desk and poured two glasses of wine. He held one out to Michael, who accepted it, not wanting to be rude.

Then he followed Martino out onto a wide balcony with fruit trees and plants growing in pots. The big man rested his elbows on the balcony.

On the horizon, a fishing trawler headed out.

“They are bringing in less pescado every day,” he said. “Very bad—muy malo.”

“That is why King Xavier is out there right now,” Michael said. “My job is to get the power back on, keep the peace, and make sure rations are being distributed evenly.”

“I know, I know, but that is not an easy job, amigo.”

Martino took a big gulp, then another. He wiped away the drip of wine on his chin and looked back to the water.

“Like Steve, I seen many sunrises and sunsets,” Martino said. “But they won’t continue para siempre. I believe like el Pulpo: this place will die.”

Michael didn’t know what to say to that.

“But it won’t die because of pescado or comida,” he said with a long sigh. “It will end because humans are supposed to die.”

Martino took another drink and then gestured for Michael to sit in the chair across from his desk.

“I have faith in King Xavier,” Michael said. “I have seen him do things most men would fail to achieve.”

Martino raised a fist. “King Xavier strong, but also good. No like el Pulpo or the kings before. My people respect strength.”

“Yes, King Xavier is one of the best men I’ve ever met, and if anyone can save us, it’s him.”

“Pero . . .”

Michael leaned back in his chair. “So what is the business you’d like to discuss?”

“Ah, sí. Raúl, an electrician who works on Wind Talker—I hear what you did for him. Many leaders would have cut his arms off and fed him to the octopus god.”

Michael shifted uneasily in his seat.

“Like I say, my people understand strength, and don’t know . . . I can’t think of the word.” He looked up and then said, “‘Mercy,’ maybe.”

“Yes, mercy,” Michael said.

“King Xavier is fair but shows no mercy.”

Michael cocked a brow at that. X had shown mercy to Ada when she dropped the container full of Cazadores into the ocean, after the peace treaty between their peoples. But Martino and his people didn’t know that.

“I like you,” Martino said. “But you must be strong and show no mercy.”

Opening a small wooden chest on the desk, he pulled out a whistle and handed it to Michael.

“This call out to the pulpo, or octopus,” Martino said. “If you ever have problems, use it.”

Michael took the bone whistle.

“You have enemies,” Martino said. “If the king fails, they will come for you, but you already know this.”

“Sí.”

Martino nodded. “Bien.”

He brought his hand up and waved it slightly—his gesture of respect.

“Thank you for the wine,” Michael said. “I will make sure the power is back on by tonight.”

“Gracias.”

Martino returned to the railing while Michael left.

Ton and Victor waited outside with Imulah, who had apparently decided not to join Steve. The scribe said nothing until they got back out to the open-air balconies.

“What did he say to you?” Imulah asked.

“To watch my back,” Michael said.

“I would like to record this when we get back to the capitol tower.”

“I’m not going back there right now, but I will find you tonight.”

Michael headed down to find Steve and the electricians working in the heart of the Nest—a vast engineering room with massive boilers, desalination tanks, and other industrial equipment.

Sunlight streamed through open hatches, illuminating the central hub, where Steve was installing the large battery.

“Almost got it,” he said.

Michael joined his deputy. Most of Michael’s schooling was in electrical engineering, and the work was relatively easy for him. He had actually come up with the idea of the battery power for the rigs based on a case he had read from the Old World, when solar farms powered underground batteries that were then used to store and distribute energy.

An hour later, they had the battery connected.

“Ready?” Michael asked.

“You do the honors this time,” Steve said.

Michael went over to the breaker and flipped the switch. Equipment clicked on all around them.

The workers in the room clapped, and shouts of excited Cazadores rose in the distance.

Michael left the rig feeling proud but also worried after his conversation with Martino. What he had said about Michael having enemies was true. He needed to show more strength, but he couldn’t be someone he wasn’t. He couldn’t stop being merciful.

By the time he pulled away in his boat with Ton and Victor to rig 15, the horizon had swallowed the sun. Behind them, rigs 3, 4, and 5 were lit up for the first time in weeks. Cazadores danced on the balconies, singing and playing guitars and bone flutes.

Michael forgot his worries for a few moments until he piloted the Sea Wolf to rig 15. Smoky fires in rusted barrels lit the decks in a macabre orange glow.

There was no music or laughter here tonight.

“Stay here,” Michael said to Steve.

Ton and Victor walked with Michael from the marina up to the community room in the center of the enclosed rig. The sprawling space was mostly abandoned now, the former occupants returning to their repaired quarters.

A few people remained, including Alton.

Ton and Victor held sentry while Michael bent down.

The boy was sleeping in the space he had shared with his mom. A tattered blanket was pulled up to his neck.

“Who’s there?” Alton whispered.

“Hey,” Michael said. He crouched down as the sleepy kid looked at him with one eye closed.

“Chief Everhart,” Alton said politely. “What are you doing here?”

“Came to see how you’re doing.”

Alton sat up but didn’t respond.

“You been getting enough to eat?” Michael asked.

He shrugged.

“You hungry now?”

Alton shook his head. “Is Cowboy Kade back yet?” he asked. “He came and saw me but said he had to leave again.”

“Not yet, but he’ll be back soon.”

Alton really looked up to Kade, just as Michael had once looked up to X.

“In the meantime, how about you come hang out with me some when you’re not in school?”

Alton looked up, his eyes wide with curiosity.

“Hang out with you where?”

“I don’t know, maybe come with me on some important engineering missions,” Michael said. “Things always need fixing.”

“Do I get to wear one of those?”

“What?”

“Your hat. You and King Xavier both wear those ball caps, and Kade has the cool cowboy hat.”

“Actually, this is the king’s. I’m holding on to it for him while he’s gone. Maybe we will find one like this for you, too.”

“Really? My mom always said . . .” Alton breathed. His excitement seemed to hiss out of him like helium from a balloon and his eyes flitted to the deck.

Michael knelt in front of Alton. “You know, I lost my mom when I was about your age, and I know it hurts, but she’s in a better place now.”

“Better than this place?” Alton shook his head. “I don’t know if any place is as good as this place.”

“What I mean is, she isn’t suffering anymore. My mom got sick, too.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, and though she left this world, she’s always here with me.” He patted his chest and then put a finger on Alton’s chest, over his heart.

“Think of your mom as living there now, and she will always be with you.”

Michael took his finger away. He helped Alton put the hat over his head.

“So you ready to do some work?” he asked.

“Yeah.” Alton smiled. “When do I start?”

“Tomorrow. I’ll come get you.”

“Okay.”

“Now, get some sleep, bud.”

Alton rested his head. “Thanks, Chief.”

“Call me Michael.”

He nodded, and Michael backed out of the stall. He left the rig with Ton and Victor without seeing Charmer or any of his comrades. When they got back to the boat, he was starting to feel better. In an hour, he would be home with Layla and Bray and little Rhino.

As the capital tower came into focus, he exhaled his stress and smiled. The relief faded when he saw Lieutenant Wynn waiting at the dock.

“Chief,” he said. “I just got word there was an attack by the spawn at Outpost Gateway.”

“What? When?”

“Two days ago. I would have told you over the comms, but . . .”

“No, I’m glad you didn’t.” He grabbed his bag and started down the dock with the lieutenant. “How bad was it?”

“We lost some equipment and six soldiers, but the outpost survived.” Wynn stopped. “Oh, and there’s something else.”

“What now?”

“Rodger,” Wynn said. “He took the director position. He’s not coming back anytime soon.”

* * * * *

Choppy black water slapped the rusted hull of the Osprey. The ship that Yejun and his people had sailed here was being restored. The teenager was still living here, a few hatches down from the quarters that Rodger Mintel had taken when he arrived.

Director Rodger Mintel.

He had come here for one reason: to prove he was still worth a damn.

Rodger sat on the edge of his bed facing the window, watching the guard tower spotlights rake over the former military base they had turned into their first working outpost. One of the lights illuminated a metal sign that read Outpost Gateway.

The place had taken a beating since they erected it, and he had his work cut out as director. For the past three days, he had done nothing but reinforce the walls and clean up the mess the spawn had left behind.

Soon, he would start a new project of installing the mobile desalination equipment to help generate clean water, among other projects.

The canal was a new lifeline to bring much-needed old-world supplies to the Vanguard Islands. It was just a small part of King Xavier’s master vision to keep the final bastion of humanity alive.

Rodger sat cross-legged on his bunk, picturing the airship that was carrying the heroes in their search for the Coral Castle. He wanted to be with them, but he had made a choice and he was going to stick with it.

His heart ached from severing his relationship with Magnolia. He loved her more than anything , and that was why he had set her free.

Perhaps, she would realize what she was missing by giving her life to diving, but Rodger wasn’t holding his breath. He had a role to play, too, and maybe if they could find enough food and supplies, they could be together someday.

Rodger got off the bed and walked over to the porthole. It had bars across it, reminding him of a prison cell. He was no stranger to prisons, but the bars weren’t here to keep him from getting out—they were to protect him from the monsters that prowled the inky darkness, waiting to strike and feast on the flesh of soldiers and workers. The last attack had occurred the day he arrived, but none since then.

Staring into the black, he imagined the little monsters tunneling under the surface. General Forge had declared victory over the beasts that bred these ugly little bastards, but that didn’t mean the canal was safe.

Nothing was safe. For most of his adult life, the darkness, electrical storms, and monsters were all he had known. Being back out here felt like a punishment, but he reminded himself why he was here.

Closing his eyes, he pictured the sun shining on his face back at the Vanguard Islands with Magnolia. He shook away the dream that was no longer reality.

He took his hand off the hull, regaining his equilibrium before starting to cross the small room on his prosthetic foot. He went to his two desks—one with maps spread across it, the other with the pet projects he worked on at night by candlelight.

Wood figurines and clocks, projects he had brought with him, sat half finished. They were another reminder of his dead parents, who once operated the wood shop on the Hive.

It was just after midnight—normally the time he sat down to carve and sand the figurines and clocks—but tonight he picked up the candle.

Voices echoed through the lower levels of the ship, where Cazador and sky people drank and played games into the night. Now that he was director, he should try to mingle with the soldiers and workers.

He crossed his small room, passing the wooden bed covered in a quilt and a pillow. He took a tattered stocking cap from a hook and pulled it over his scraggly brown hair. Feeling conflicted, he went to open the hatch. What he needed right now was a strong drink to help him sleep.

The freshly painted ladder led down into the three-century-old vessel. Rodger took each stair carefully.

Raised voices grew louder as he reached the landing. On the second level of the massive boat, he opened the hatch to a corridor.

The hatch to the mess was open, and music blared from the old system that one of the engineers had jerry-rigged. Rodger limped into the spacious room furnished with metal tables bolted to the deck. Most of the crew were gathered around one of those tables, shouting and cheering.

He saw the source of the noise: a Cazador game of darts. The two players were both sailors with sunburned, weathered skin from a lifetime on the sea.

“Place your bets!” someone shouted.

The spectators put down coins, bullets, and other valuable wagers on the table.

Rodger made his way over to the kitchen, where a barrel of shine waited. He took a filthy mug, cleaned it with his tattered T-shirt, and filled it to the brim.

By the time he got within view of the table, the two Cazadores were standing back to back. One was blindfolded and given five darts.

“Better than machetes, I guess,” Rodger whispered.

He took a seat and a slug of shine. It burned all the way down his gullet, making him wince. The sauce was even stronger than he remembered.

The Cazador with the darts was spun and spun and spun. When the person spinning him stopped, the fun began.

Wobbling and trying to stand up straight, the guy with darts started launching them where he thought the other player was standing.

The crowd screamed and dispersed as the darts went in the opposite direction. Their shouts got the dart thrower to turn around. He had two left and hurled them right at his opponent.

The first missed by a good foot, but the second tagged the man in his chest, prompting a yowl of pain.

The crowd erupted in laughter and shouts.

Rodger picked up his mug and took another drink.

“Rodger Dodger, the hell jumper!” someone shouted.

He turned toward the crowd and saw Toro, the lead deckhand. He staggered over, clearly intoxicated.

“You play next,” Toro slurred.

“No, gracias,” Rodger said. “I prefer not to be riddled with darts.”

He raised his mug with a smile, but Toro shook his head.

“No, no, no, amigo,” he said.

Toro took a seat next to Rodger and put a hand over his shoulder, exhaling a deep breath that reeked of fish and shine.

Rodger turned away from the stench and pulled his hand off. “Not in the mood, man,” he said.

Toro reared back. “Don’t be like that, hombre.”

“I just want to drink, okay?”

The room suddenly went quiet as Rodger brought his mug back to his lips. He looked around to see what had gotten everyone’s attention.

Yejun stood at the other end of the mess hall.

“You’re too young to drink, kid,” said one of the sky people.

A Cazador said something in Spanish to Yejun.

Rodger walked over. “He’s lived out here his entire life. He can drink if he wants,” he said. “Give him an ale.”

The bartender didn’t budge.

Rodger picked up a mug and handed it to Yejun, who nodded.

“Thank,” he said.

“Ah, you’re learning some English,” Rodger said. “That’s good!”

“Yes.”

“Come with me.”

They walked away, both drinking from their mugs. Rodger found two empty stools in the corner and took one, gesturing for Yejun to sit. The kid obliged.

Rodger had heard a lot about him before arriving. How Yejun would often disappear and return to the graves of his family out near the salvage yard. How he didn’t want to leave them and felt responsible for their deaths.

In a way, Rodger could relate. He felt responsible for the deaths of his parents sometimes, but he also had learned to move on.

Perhaps, Rodger could help the kid.

Yejun raised the wrist computer they had given him to translate from Korean to English.

“I need work,” he said.

“What kind of work?”

Yejun spoke again, quieter this time.

The other men were laughing behind them, but not at Rodger or Yejun. The Cazador sailor with a dart in his chest had left it dangling there and was wearing it proudly as a sort of brooch or badge.

Rodger jerked his chin toward the door. Yejun seemed to understand but looked uncertain.

“You don’t want to stay here with these nimrods, trust me,” Rodger said. “Come on, let’s go topside.”

Yejun read the translation and grinned.

Seeing him smile made Rodger smile for the first time in days. He took his mug and left the room without turning.

“Where you going, Rodger Dodger?” Toro called out. “We aren’t finished!”

“Next time, amigo,” Rodger replied.

He took Yejun up an interior ladder to the top of the ship. A slight breeze rustled their suits and hair as they stepped onto the deck. Two Cazador soldiers patrolled on the bow deck.

The fenced-off industrial boatyard was alive with activity. Even at the late hour, workers still loaded supplies into containers. A crane raised one of those boxes onto the deck, setting it down with a thud.

Spotlights raked the area for any hostiles beyond the boatyard, and guard towers watched over the terrain.

Rodger hobbled across the deck next to Yejun. Both of them looked out over the boatyard. Two new warehouses were still going up, their metal frames illuminated by blue work lights. Next to them, an entire row of ten warehouses was already finished and sealed off. These would store the supplies they continued to salvage from the surrounding area.

To the left of the boatyard was the main outpost. Wind turbines, installed two weeks earlier to help generate power to the camp, churned in the darkness.

The biggest project was to get the mobile desalination equipment running, but he was also planning to install grow lights in an underground farm, where they would grow enough food to sustain the workers here. His main goal as outpost director was to make Gateway a self-sustaining resource for the expanding Vanguard empire, and that was exactly what Rodger was going to have Yejun help him with.

“There,” Rodger said. He pointed to the water desalination unit that a crane was setting on a concrete pad.

They had salvaged the equipment from another ship and would install it in a facility at the outpost once they had established a suitable place for the water treatment plant.

Rodger started to explain his idea to Yejun, when an alarm wailed.

The two soldiers came running over.

“What’s going on?” Rodger asked.

“I don’t know,” replied one of the men. “Get inside.”

Rodger took a ladder to the ship’s command center to try the radio. The emergency siren wailed as he made his way inside with Yejun.

“This is Director Mintel, do you copy?”

Lieutenant Bromista replied in broken English. Rodger didn’t understand it all, but he did make out two words: radiation and spike.

Rodger pulled out his binoculars and raised them to the viewports. He centered them on the storm surging across the remains of Panama City. He couldn’t see anything from here, but these unexplained radiation spikes continued to worry him even more than the bizarre chitinous monsters that lived there.

No one knew what caused them, and they were becoming more frequent according to the logs he had gone over when he arrived.

And no one seemed to have a theory why.

Yejun stepped up next to Rodger, staring at the city. Rodger lowered his binos, realizing that if anyone knew, it was this kid.

“I think I have the perfect job for you,” Rodger said. “Come with me.”

eleven

“Do we have any idea where they are?” Edgar asked.

Magnolia shook her head. She stared out the launch-bay windows at the storm clouds, getting more worried by the minute. Her mind was already a mess over what had happened between her and Rodger. And that was why she wasn’t down there with the others.

X had seen her pain and understood what that pain could do on a mission. Sofia knew it, too, and had tried to counsel her.

“They are going to be okay, Mags. Just give them some time.”

“I’m not going to wait around any longer,” Magnolia replied. “I’m headed to the CIC.”

“Be nice to the captain,” Arlo said.

Magnolia glared at him. “Just be ready,” she said. “All of you.”

The rest of the divers stared back.

She left the launch bay and made her way through the corridors of the airship, trying not to let her mind worry. The paintings on the hulls had put her at ease in the past, but most of them were covered up during Leon Jordan’s reign of terror.

Magnolia had seen these passages thousands of times as a child and knew them like the back of her hand. Back then she hadn’t known Rodger all that well, but in the final years in the sky, she had grown to know his kind soul and comical personality.

She paused to look at the retouched painting of the ocean across the overhead. She remembered staring at it thirty years ago and daydreaming about being on the open water. Watching fish swim by and diving down into the coral reefs.

That daydream had become real. But the other dreams she recalled had not.

Next, she passed a painting of a family of four, the mother and father on their knees in the dirt cultivating a garden with their two young daughters.

Magnolia had loved it until her parents died. Then it just reminded her of what she had lost. She could have had this. She could have married Rodger, had children, and they could have had their own garden plot on the top of the capitol tower.

“Commander Katib,” came a soft voice that distracted her from the view.

Lieutenant Eevi Corey stepped out of a connecting passage. She smiled at Magnolia, but then her eyes hardened at the images on the hull.

Magnolia understood. Eevi had lost everything in that picture: first her child, then her husband in Rio de Janeiro.

“Any word from the king or the Barracudas?” Magnolia asked.

“No, I was just taking a quick break to get some chow. Have you eaten?”

“No.”

“You really should.”

“I’m fine.”

Eevi reached out to her. “If you want to talk, I’m here, Mags. Sofia is, too. We have your back, always.”

“I know, and thanks, but if you want to help me, you can have my back in the fight I’m about to pick with Captain Rolo.”

Eevi grinned. “Oh, I think I can manage that.”

They walked to the CIC together in silence, Magnolia steeling herself for yet another argument with a man who had no business flying the airship. If it were up to her, she would make Eevi captain.

Two guards waited outside the CIC. They stepped aside, and the hatch whisked open. Across the two-tiered bridge, near the wide Plexiglas window overlooking the sea of electrical storms, Rolo stood, arms folded over his chest.

Lightning flashed outside, illuminating the officers on the bridge.

Ensign Dmitri Vasilev and Lieutenant Olga Novak manned the radar and comms stations. The former officers of the Malenkov were hardworking and intelligent, both great additions to the team.

“Hello, Commander Katib,” said the smooth, intelligent voice of Timothy.

The holographic avatar strode in front of her, dressed in a suit with a silver bow tie that matched his hair and beard.

“Do we have any word from the surface?” Magnolia asked.

“I’m afraid not.”

“Captain, Team Raptor is ready to dive and locate them. Just give me the order.”

Rolo turned slightly, not totally facing Magnolia.

“I figured you’d say that, but you know as well as I do, that order would be suicide,” Rolo said. “For all of us.”

His sagging chin jiggled as he turned toward the viewports and the flashing horizon.

“That storm would tear us apart before we could even drop you into the clouds,” he said. “There’s no way through it, under it, or over it. I know it, and you know it.”

The AI nodded. “This is true, Commander Katib.”

“What about our drones?” she asked.

“The one we sent out has malfunctioned, and the other was damaged on your top-secret mission here a week ago,” Rolo said.

Magnolia scowled at the captain.

“The Immortal will be here in two days max,” he said. “Until then, we sit tight.”

“Two days is too long. The king is down there, Captain. We can’t just sit tight if he needs help.”

“And it was his choice to go, Commander, fully knowing the risks.”

She turned but stopped when he spoke again.

“I am a trusting man, but I learn my lessons,” Rolo said. “I’ve locked the launch bay doors and the tubes this time. You won’t be disobeying orders again on my watch.”

She cursed under her breath.

“You should know, all of you, that I agreed to this last mission because of its importance,” Rolo said. “And with due respect, I am the only person who understands this airship well enough to keep us in the air.”

Magnolia looked to Eevi.

“Ah,” Rolo said, following her gaze. “I’m sorry, but Lieutenant Corey’s background in the militia and Hell Divers, and her few years on this bridge, do not qualify her for a situation like this.”

“And what about Timothy?” Magnolia said.

“The AI?” Rolo shook his head. “He’s the reason the sky looks like that, the reason my people were imprisoned. And I’m still shocked you have kept him online all these years.”

“I would never hurt anyone,” Timothy said. “My duty is to help, not destroy.”

“I’m sure no AI ever said that before.”

“Captain, I’m pleading with you to consider getting just a bit closer and letting me drop in one of the inflatable boats to search for the king and his team,” Magnolia said.

Rolo sighed and crossed the room, stopping in front of her.

“Lieutenant Corey, I heard you were going to have Magnolia’s back here,” he said. “So feel free to recant your earlier assessment that moving closer to that storm is a danger to the ship.”

Eevi looked at Magnolia, her eyes wide.

“What? You think I am not listening and watching you all?” Rolo asked. “I will not be made out to be the bastard again, and I will not let you jeopardize this ship. It’s my primary responsibility.”

He acknowledged Eevi with a side glance.

“Lieutenant Corey, do you understand the peril we are in?”

“Yes, Captain, but letting Magnolia drop to the surface will not put our ship in jeopardy.”

Rolo groaned.

Magnolia admitted defeat with a subtle nod and sigh. “Okay, then, I understand.”

She left the CIC and walked back to the launch bay, considering her options. Really, there weren’t any. There was no way to access the inflatable boat without being seen, and jumping from the airship wasn’t possible.

When she got back to the launch bay, all the divers stood at attention.

“Well?” Edgar asked.

“No word,” Magnolia said. “Everyone, try and get some rest.”

“I thought you said to be ready,” Arlo said.

“Arlo, shut the fuck up for once.”

Arlo reared back at her rebuke. She strode over to a stack of crates and put her back against them, out of view.

She wanted to cry, but she would never let herself. She also wanted to scream. That wasn’t going to happen, either.

What she needed was a good few hours’ sleep.

She sat on the ground and buried her head between her arms. Trying to calm her mind. Images surfaced, reminding her of what could be and what she had lost.

“I know things seem bad, but this isn’t the end.”

Magnolia looked up at Sofia.

“Rodger is still alive, Mags, and I hate to be a bitch, but I would give anything to see and hold Rhino again.”

“I know, I know, I fucked up so bad.”

“Everyone does, but what matters is, you can still fix things. Rodger will understand. He is a good man with a good heart, and he will wait for you. I know it.”

“You think so?”

Sofia took a seat next to Magnolia.

“Yes, I know he will, but you need to get your head on straight like you told me, because when we do dive, we’re going somewhere no one has been.”

“Yeah.” Magnolia heaved a breath. “You’re right. I can fix things with Rodger if I survive.”

“Yup. Now, try and get some sleep. You need it.”

Sofia put her head against Magnolia’s. It was comforting, and Magnolia drifted off to sleep without another thought.

Footsteps woke her.

“Commander Katib,” Edgar said.

She shot up, wiping her frosted hair from her eyes. “What’s going on?”

Sofia rubbed the sleep from her eyes and stood next to Magnolia.

“We just got a transmission from the king,” Edgar said. “They were attacked by some sort of mutated creatures. Their boat was destroyed and they are seeking refuge in an armored vehicle on a bridge.”

“Shit, I knew something happened.”

Magnolia paced behind the crates, thinking. Stopping, she peered around the side, looking for the cameras in the room.

“What are you doing?” Sofia asked.

“Keep your voice low and stay away from the cameras. We’re being watched and listened to.”

“What? By whom?”

“Who do you think?”

Edgar raised a brow. “Damn, he really is a bit of a bastard.”

“A bit?”

“In Australia, it means a real thoroughgoing asshole,” Magnolia said. “Kade taught me.”

“Oh.”

Magnolia grinned. “Rolo may be an asshole, but I’m one smart bitch.”

“Don’t do anything rash.”

“Rash?” Sofia asked. “She’s the queen of rash.”

Magnolia exchanged a glance with her best friend.

“I don’t like that look,” Sofia said. “What are you going to do?”

“Find someone who will help us dive.”

* * * * *

A bestial trumpeting in the distance silenced the hardened warriors inside the APC. Thunder clapped overhead, though not loud enough to mask the horrifying noises of the monsters prowling outside.

The five surviving Barracudas huddled in the belly of an armored vehicle with X, Miles, and Kade. For the past twenty hours, they had sat inside the damn vehicle, listening to the two-headed dingos and the slithering horror from the pier.

The monster dogs were silent now, but X knew the reason: the alpha predator was hunting.

Miles lay next to X, his right hind leg shaking. The doctor had said it was arthritis, but the soldiers around them didn’t know that.

X didn’t want them to view his dog as weak. Then again, he didn’t give a shit what people thought of his dog.

He wouldn’t blame his furry best friend for being scared, anyway, for the creature making the trumpeting sounds was one of the ugliest, deadliest beasts they had ever encountered in the wastes.

The noise finally waned, drifting into the distance. The men shifted around, moving their legs and arms for circulation.

“We can’t stay in here forever,” said Kade. “I’m dry as a road-killed dingo.”

“What?” X asked.

“I’m out of water, sir.”

“Well, why didn’t you say so earlier? Someone, give the man some water.”

“I’m out, too,” Slayer said.

The other soldiers didn’t have much left, either. It wasn’t a surprise, considering the trek and then how far they all had run to escape. They had packed light because this mission was supposed to be a short recon, not an extended stay in the wastes.

Sergeant Blackburn said something in Spanish that made the other Barracudas chuckle quietly. Something about mierda.

“Oh,” X said. “Yeah, I got to take a shit, too, but I ain’t going out there.”

X cracked his neck from side to side, the bones popping.

“Hand me that log again,” he said to Slayer.

The lieutenant picked up the hardcover logbook from the Sea Sprite and gave it to X. The logs didn’t say what the monsters were, but they did have something else of interest.

X opened it to the page with a map of an ITC facility in Brisbane.

Slayer had already translated the text.

This facility wasn’t like the others they had raided in the past. It was the home to a massive underground cryo-chamber, research facility, and vaults. And not just any vaults. The log mentioned a seed vault.

X had long searched for hybrid seeds that would grow faster and in harsh environments. If they could locate this vault, it was possible they could grow enough crops over the next few months to keep the islands from facing a full-blown famine.

The Cazador sailors and soldiers of the Sea Sprite had planned on heading there after their search for the Coral Castle, but clearly, they never made it.

If X could get out of here, perhaps he could do what they had failed to do at the ITC facility. It wouldn’t be easy, though. The radiation in Brisbane was worse than anything X had encountered in his lifetime.

There was no way the army could make it there on foot.

There was only one shot at getting in and out fast.

X needed Hell Divers.

Checking his wrist computer, he saw he was down to 30 percent battery. When the suit powered off, he would lose his lights, comms, and several life support systems.

He didn’t want to be out here if that happened. Not with the slithering monstrosities that could crawl faster than any snake, swim faster than any fish, and run faster than a mutant dingo.

X bumped on the command channel to the airship.

“Captain Rolo, do you copy?”

Still no answer.

The last time they had made contact was ten hours ago, relaying their position and situation. Since then, he hadn’t been able to get through, probably because of storm interference.

The team needed to get somewhere safer, where they could try to make contact with the airship.

Over the next hour, X listened for the monsters. And when he heard nothing, he made his decision.

“Pack up. We’re moving soon,” X said. “Slayer, scout it out. If we’re clear, we go and try to get to the coast.”

Slayer opened the back hatch, scanning the darkness before slipping out with his rifle. X moved to a viewport to watch the soldier walking hunched over across the bridge.

Miles got up next to X.

“It’s okay, boy,” X said. He checked his minimap, then pulled up his wrist computer for a better look at the area.

He desperately wanted to find the location of the people who had come here, but he wasn’t convinced it was the Coral Castle. From what he had seen so far, there were no humans out here, only monsters.

Still, if there is a chance . . .

He decided to put the team first and try to get in contact with the airship. Scanning the map, he located an interstate highway back to the coast that would keep them away from the river, where the slithering, man-eating beasts seemed to dwell.

The back hatch opened, and Slayer ducked down.

“All clear,” he reported.

“Okay, let’s go,” X said.

The squad piled out of the APC and started across the bridge. Over the side, X could see their assault boat. It was charred and still smoking from an unlucky shot to the gas tank.

“I could try my booster,” Kade said. “Get back into the sky and contact the ship.”

“No way, too dangerous,” X replied.

“More dangerous than staying out here?”

The diver had a point, but they weren’t staying.

“We move fast but cautious,” X said. “Slayer, take point.”

Slayer rushed down the bridge, leading the way to the Sunshine Motorway. Cars littered the road, each burned hull a possible ambush spot for monsters. The jungle beyond the four-lane interstate also provided refuge.

This was the closest X had been to the mutant plants and trees. Spiral mushrooms grew in colorful towers and at the bases of trees. Clusters formed in groves. The white teardrop-shaped spore sacs hung from branches.

Several of them burst from bladed leaves, letting out a white mist that drifted on the wind.

The squad clanked down the road, making far too much noise with their thick armor and weapons. A half mile in, a squawking came from the jungle—some sort of bird.

Slayer motioned everyone down.

The squawking grew louder, and X sneaked a glance over a car bumper to where Miles was looking at the jungle.

Using his infrared optics, X identified the creature as a bird with strange, blade-shaped feathers. Mushrooms grew along the humped back like barnacles on a whale.

“What the hell is that?” X whispered.

Another squawk came from the east, and the bird X was watching shot out of the canopy like a rocket.

Miles growled, but X pulled him back.

A second bird took to the sky and slammed into the first in an explosion of feathers. They pulled apart, raising their taloned feet and flapping their huge wings with their mesh of interlocking feathers as tough as body armor.

Slayer motioned for the team to keep going.

They took off running, leaving the dueling creatures behind.

Not long after, they reached an overpass and intersection with Highway 8.

X kept them going on Highway 70, but Sergeant Blackburn suddenly called out behind them.

“Come on,” X grunted. He made his way over with Miles and Kade while the rest of the team held security.

“¿Qué?” X asked. “Oh, buckets of shit . . .”

He didn’t need to follow the Cazador’s flamethrower nozzle pointing at the road in the distance. X could clearly see the ruined cars that had been pushed into a symbol of a trident.

“Bloody finally,” Kade said.

X turned back toward the ocean, still two or three miles away. Bumping on his comms, he tried Captain Rolo again and got only static. Cursing, he turned back to the trident that Kade was scoping.

“What do you think?” X asked.

“I think we came this far, just as well take a look.”

“I agree,” Slayer said.

Miles started trotting ahead.

“Guess he does, too,” X said. “Let’s go.”

The team made their way down to Highway 8, passing the oddly configured vehicles. They swept the sides of the road with their rifles, scanning the jungle for anything that moved.

X couldn’t help but feel as though they were being watched.

Slayer halted on point and gestured for X while the rest of the team took cover. Miles followed X over to a part of the road where the asphalt was broken into the shape of an arrow.

“It points to Jones Road,” Slayer said.

They took the windy side road, the jungle narrowing on each side. Thunderclaps overhead followed a dual flash of lightning.

A chill went up X’s back when he saw remains in the middle of the road.

The team fanned out around the armless corpse. X bent down to examine what ended up being nothing but a bag of bones in some decayed clothing.

“Been here a long time,” he said.

“Yeah, and he appears to have been moving in our direction, away from the arrows,” Slayer said.

“Hey, check out that sign,” Kade said.

X looked up and saw a sign for Buderim Forest Park. On it was an engraved trident.

They kept going, onto an even narrower road with the jungle growing practically overhead. Blades and branches reached out toward the team as they made their way down.

Spore cases popped, expelling their toxic seeds.

The dark-gray armor of the Cazadores was sprinkled with the white powder, as if they were moving through snow.

X heard what sounded like running water, and halted.

Through a clearing, he saw a rocky overlook. Slayer went ahead, slipping under a tree that blocked the path.

Kade went with him, but X hung back with Miles and the other Cazador soldiers.

A howl broke the silence. This was different from the dingos, the slithering monstrosities, and the birds. This sounded like a monkey.

Like Jo-Jo.

X thought of the creature, wishing he had brought her along now.

He raised his rifle at movement, then lowered it when he saw Slayer and Kade.

“What is it?” X asked.

“You need to see it to believe it, King Xavier,” Slayer replied.

Kade motioned him to follow.

They trekked around the trees to a clearing. The shelf of rock hung over a murky pool fed by a waterfall. A rusted steel trident stood over the cascading falls. It was twice the height of a Cazador in full armor.

“Is this it?” X asked. “Is this the Coral Castle?”

Slayer beckoned him to an overlook. At the bottom, what looked like an armored medieval knight lay on the ground, sword still in hand. He lay on the white shoreline of twigs, branches, and rocks all the same color.

“This has to be it,” X said.

His brain slowly registered what his eyes were telling it. The beach wasn’t composed of rocks or branches, or of coral—it was made of bones.

The bones of people who had come here in search of the Coral Castle.

twelve

“Chief, pressa para o capitol tower when finished,” said Pedro. “Lieutenant Wynn has update from Panama Canal.”

Inside the upper cabin of the Sea Wolf, Michael held Cricket up to his mouth while he steered the boat. “Copy that. Is it urgent?”

“He say to finish whatever job you doing.”

“Copy,” Michael said.

He cursed under his breath and tucked the radio into his vest. Then he pressed the bill of his hat down to keep out the brilliant sun.

Victor lowered his binoculars.

“Something bad?” he asked.

“Probably,” Michael replied.

Laughter came from outside. As Ton looked on, Alton was standing at the helm, salt water splashing his ragged clothes. The Sea Wolf powered over the waves under the radiant sunlight.

Alton stepped away and finished lowering one of the sails by pulling on the rope just as Michael had taught him earlier this morning.

“That’s it!” he yelled. “Nice work, buddy!”

Alton took his time tying the rope, working carefully and diligently with his tongue poking out the side of his mouth.

He was having fun, and Michael was enjoying their time together. He was glad he could help take the kid’s mind off the loss of his mother. But now Michael was worried about Outpost Gateway, Rodger, and the expedition to find the Coral Castle.

They had yet to make contact with the airship Vanguard or the supercarrier Immortal since King Xavier departed from the canal eight days ago.

Michael swung the boat toward the fishing rig. Some of the trawlers were returning after a long morning and afternoon on the water.

“Take over for me,” Michael said.

Victor grabbed the wheel, and Michael went out on the deck, where Ton held the bow rope to tether them to the rig.

A trawler, easily ten times the size of the Sea Wolf, rocked a little as the crane lifted its catch basket from the hold. Fishermen moved about on the decks, securing supplies and preparing to unload their catch.

Another boat had already delivered its payload and was pulling away, heading back to open water to continue the hunt for more fish.

The Sea Wolf drifted into a marina bustling with activity. Cazador deckhands unloaded the smaller boats, one bucket of fish at a time.

Victor nosed the Sea Wolf into an empty slip, and Michael hopped onto the dock. Alton did the same, and together they moored the boat.

“I have some stuff to do,” Michael said. “Why don’t you stay here and watch the boat?”

Alton threw up a salute to his hat. “Aye, aye, Captain.”

Smiling, Michael left with Victor while Ton stayed behind to keep an eye on Alton. The boy eyed the guard suspiciously, then reached out with a fist.

Ton bumped his fist against Alton’s.

“He’s a good kid,” Michael said to Victor.

“Very sad about his mom, but he will be okay. I lost my mom around the same age—she was taken by another tribe and killed by their warlord.”

Michael slowed his pace and looked at Victor, who had never shared much about his past. Heck, Michael didn’t even really know where the two men had come from—only that the Cazadores had captured them and were preparing to eat them when the sky people found them in the containers.

“I’m sorry,” Michael said. “I did, too, but not from war.”

“Loss is a part of life that shapes what kind of warriors we are. Ton and I have lost almost all our people in war, and now I’m reading a book that reminds me of our plight.”

“Yeah? What’s it called?”

Victor pulled the ragged book from the satchel he carried over his leather vest and armored plates.

Michael took it as they continued up the stairs.

“Gates of Fire,” he read.

“It’s told from the viewpoint of a Spartan warrior who was the only surviving member of his army.”

“Interesting. Maybe I will read it after you.”

Michael handed it back to Victor as they finally arrived at the entrance to the processing plant where Steve and Imulah would be waiting. The smell of fresh fish lingered in the dimly lit passages, growing stronger as Michael made his way toward the central processing deck.

The entire rig was a remarkable invention from the Cazadores. The trawlers emptied their catches into a flume that flushed them into the processing center, where they were sorted and checked for radiation and toxins.

Michael took Victor up to an observation window over the deck. Imulah and Steve were standing near the glass, watching a dozen technicians sort the fish shooting out of the flume into troughs.

Workers carted away pails of fish that had passed the quality checks, as a scribe tallied the numbers. When the batch was finished, a few minutes passed before the next came in.

Michael could tell right away that something was wrong. Some of the larger fish were covered in a gelatinous brownish-yellow muck.

The workers sifted through them, tossing most of them into the scuppers to the garbage silos below, to be taken back to sea and dumped.

The scribe finished up his tally and whistled up to the observation window.

Imulah waved him up, and the man, a guy named Fredo, joined them in the room. He spoke to Imulah in Spanish, but Michael understood every word of it.

“¡Al carajo!” Imulah swore in Spanish.

Michael wasn’t used to hearing the old scribe curse, but he had a damn good reason. Three-quarters of the entire catch had come in contaminated.

“This is the worst yet,” Imulah said. He stroked his beard and studied his notes. “At this rate, we will have to lower rations.”

“We can’t do that,” Michael said. “We’re already stretched thin.”

“Then we’d better stretch further, because we are running out of options, sir.”

Imulah held his gaze an extra beat before turning to record the next batch.

Michael headed back down to the Sea Wolf with Victor. He heard laughter coming through the marina doors as they arrived.

Ton was trying to hold on to a fish that was flopping around while Alton laughed hysterically. The fish finally squeezed free and hit the dock, flipping over the side and into the water.

Both guard and boy straightened when they saw Michael returning.

“Captain, should we set sail?” Alton asked.

“No, we’ll use the engines,” Michael said. “Untie those ropes.”

“Aye, aye, sir.”

Michael tried not to act nervous in front of the kid, but the way Alton looked at him said the boy knew something was up.

The engines fired, and Michael took the ladder up to the helm. He eased the throttle down, not wanting to burn any extra gas. A few minutes later, the hatch opened and Alton stepped inside.

“Where we going now, Captain?” he asked.

“Back to the capitol tower. I’ll drop you off at your rig first, though.”

“No, wait, please.” Alton looked at him with sad eyes. “I don’t want to go home.”

“I’m sorry, but—”

“I’ll wait outside. Or go to the roof. Please, anything other than going back there.”

Michael sighed. “Fine, but stay out of trouble.”

“Thanks, Captain!” Alton yelled.

By the time they got back to the capitol tower, the command room center was packed. Michael entered with a sour gut, knowing that the update from Panama couldn’t be good.

When he saw the occupants of the room, his gut twisted like a palm-fiber rope.

Lieutenant Wynn stood at the head of the war table, which was covered in maps. Soldiers surrounded him. Pedro sat next to the radio, listening for transmissions.

“What’s happened?” Michael asked.

Pedro took off his headphones.

“Lieutenant Bromista made contact with the Immortal an hour ago,” Wynn said. “From what we understand, King Xavier went ahead with the airship Vanguard when they left Panama.”

“The Immortal received an SOS, requesting backup at the Sunshine Coast,” Wynn continued. “The message was delivered by a drone, but it was scrambled and that’s all we know right now.”

Steve opened the hatch, taking his sunglasses off as he stepped in.

“What’d I miss?” he asked.

All eyes flitted to Michael. Everyone in the room was two or three times his age, and they all were looking to him for answers now.

Even Alton was peeking through the window for a look at what was going on. He backed away to let someone into the room.

It was Imulah, clutching his clipboard. The door closed behind him, and Alton stepped back up to watch.

Wynn explained what had happened, and Imulah sighed as he jotted it into his notes.

“Chief Everhart, I highly advise you to be transparent this time,” he said. “People will find out, and it is better if we tell them the truth.”

“Should we tell them about the fish, too?” Michael asked. “Tell them that we might have to lower rations again?”

His voice grew louder and angrier as he turned toward the view-ports.

“The people out there deserve to know, I agree,” Michael said. “The problem is what happens when I tell them.”

He gave a long, whistling sigh.

“X has gone to war against monsters in the wastes, and I’m trying to stop one here at home.”

* * * * *

An alarm chirped in X’s helmet, and he brought up his wrist computer for the bad news. Battery 2 percent.

X bumped on the comms. “Captain Rolo, do you copy?” he said.

Static.

X wanted to kick the wall of their safe house, the concrete ground floor of a hotel that once overlooked the Mooloolah River to the west, and a long stretch of beach on the Coral Sea.

Over the past day, his team had slowly made their way here through the toxic jungle, avoiding the beasts by stealth and a bit of luck.

They had almost lost Slayer to a pack of dingos, but they scattered when the trumpeting call of the alpha predator rang out.

The Barracudas, Kade, and X had scattered, too, not stopping until they reached their current location.

Out of water and food and running low on batteries, they were in worrisome shape.

The mission was going on forty-six hours now—nearly two days of little sleep, running and hiding from the hellish monsters.

Miles glanced up as X stood and walked over to the stairwell. Slayer was standing sentry at the top while the others rested.

Topside, Kade was perched in a tower—an extra set of eyes on any beasts that might try to flank their building.

X started up the steps to relieve him. Miles perked, then jumped up when X nodded.

They emerged from the ruins, wind gusting over the rubble that surrounded the enclosed concrete structure.

Kade was perched in the second level of the adjacent building, his rifle barrel just within view. X made his way across a field of pink weeds shifting in the wind.

Miles trotted ahead, navigating a way between poisonous plants. They made it into the next building and took an enclosed stairway up to Kade.

He was prone on the floor of an apartment missing its western wall, his helmet pressed against his visor.

“Shh,” he whispered.

X got down and belly-crawled over for a look.

Across the river, a tailed beast had slithered out of the water, using all four prehensile flippers to haul itself up onto the shore. Then it slithered into the high weeds above the embankment.

X switched to infrared on his optics, but this creature had no heat signature at all.

“There are three of them,” Kade said quietly. “I think they know we’re here.”

X looked again but didn’t see any of them across the river.

“We’re running out of options, sir,” Kade said. “Perhaps I should try my booster and get in the air.”

X shook his head. “No, I told you, too dangerous.”

Miles nestled between the two men, his hackles up as he gave a long, low growl.

“Keep quiet, boy,” X whispered.

He searched the green hue of his optics for a second before his world suddenly went dark. He heard the click from his chest slot as the battery winked off.

He lay there for a beat, staring out into the inky black, listening to the distant waves lapping the shore, the caw of a bird.

“Well, fuck me,” he muttered.

“What?” Kade looked over.

“My battery is out.”

“Damn.”

X waited for his vision to adjust to the sporadic blue of the storms, but his old eyes just weren’t what they used to be.

He felt a hand on his arm.

“Don’t move,” Kade said.

X studied the river, trying to make out something, anything, in the darkness.

“They’re coming,” Kade said.

“How many?”

“Five, crossing the river now.”

“We have to move.”

“You can’t see.”

Miles growled, and X reached out. “Quiet, Miles.”

The dog hunkered down but still let out another low growl.

X lay there, heart pounding, sweat dripping down his forehead. He felt naked and helpless.

He pulled his axe off his belt and kept it in his hand. Since he couldn’t see squat, shooting his laser rifle would just get him or Kade killed.

X could hear the creatures clambering out of the water, using their arms to pull their bark-like flesh over slippery rocks.

He flinched at the first trumpeting call. In the glow of a lightning flash, he saw the mammoth beast mounting a rock, the tail grasping it, all four arms up, nasal slits flaring in his direction. And that cyclopean eyeball searching the darkness.

“Shit, we have to go,” X whispered.

Kade got up beside him, and X pushed himself up, gripping his axe.

“Stay close to me, King Xavier,” Kade said.

The two men and Miles left the room and dashed down the stairs and out the back, into the weeds. The creatures pushed noisily into the building.

A rock caught X’s ankle, and he went down hard on his side.

Kade helped him up and Miles nudged up beside him to help. He seemed to sense that his master couldn’t see.

The dog stayed just in front of X, guiding him through the field with Kade.

Snarling jaws and the trumpeting cries chased them through the weeds, drawing closer. X ran with a hand out in front.

The monsters were so close he could hear their rubbery limbs and tails slithering across the rocky ground.

Another rock snagged X’s boot, and he went down hard. Within a second, Kade had him back on his feet. The panting beasts were closing in.

They weren’t going to make it to safety.

“Slayer!” X shouted.

The concrete building they had been seeking refuge in suddenly lit up with dazzling horizontal lines of red light shooting above their heads.

X, Kade, and Miles dived behind a rock.

Gripping his axe in his good hand, X awaited his chance.

“Come on, ya mutant polliwogs,” he muttered, searching the darkness.

The laser bolts burned into targets, illuminating the hideous bark-skinned abominations. They trumpeted out their rage and pain with each flash of the lasers.

But the cyclops beasts kept coming.

Kade rose up to fire a burst of laser fire. Then he reached down.

“Let’s go—”

A bark-covered flipper smashed into Kade, sending him flying backward.

The monster leaped onto the rock X was crouched behind, and reached down with one arm, grabbing him by the neck. With another arm, it grabbed Miles—a fatal mistake in X’s view.

He swung his axe, only to have his wrist caught by a third arm. It used its fourth limb to grab his leg, pulling down while the other two limbs pulled upward.

In that second, X realized how Daunte had died, his legs ripped from his torso.

X knew he would die in the wastes one day, but he couldn’t let Miles. Not like this . . .

Red filled his vision.

Squirming, X tried to break free but the monster used its shoulder to prevent him from fighting back with his other arm. He still had control of his head, so he slammed his helmet against that slitted yellow eye staring at him.

The beast roared at the impact, blinking a scaly eyelid.

The wormy black lips peeled open, exposing a jaw lined with hundreds of humanlike teeth. X had never seen anything like this.

The monster pulled down on his legs and up on his neck.

Miles squealed in pain as the creature tossed him away onto the dirt. The dog yelped upon impact, skidding into the darkness.

“No, buddy!” X screamed. He tried to slam his helmet against the eye again, but this time the creature lowered its head and butted back, splintering the glass of his visor.

X looked over at Miles, who was trying to get up.

“Not like this,” X grunted.

Pulling back once more, he head-butted the monster again, missing the eye and slamming the nasal slits. The creature wailed with rage, opening its jaw.

It lurched forward, jaws open wide to snap around his entire helmet, when a red laser flashed a tunnel through the crest of its head.

X slumped to the ground, looking for Miles.

Kade ran over, finishing off the convulsing beast with two more shots.

“Flames!” Slayer yelled in the distance. He followed up the order in Spanish. “¡Fuego!”

Blinking, X crawled toward the blurry bulk that was Miles. His back and neck hurt worse than he could remember, but he was alive, and it appeared that his dog was, too.

He finally reached Miles and pulled him over to shield him.

“Boy, boy, are you okay, boy?” X rambled.

The hybrid animal nestled up against his chest armor, and X pulled him tight as gunfire, lasers, and jets of flame shot over them.

Kade bent down by X and laid down covering fire.

A gout of flame arced over them to the right, then overhead, and then to the left. X glanced over at Sergeant Blackburn, raking his flamethrower over the field, sending up a curtain of fire around the two men and the dog.

Lasers lanced away from the adjacent building as Slayer and the other Barracudas advanced. A spear flew, sinking deep under an upraised flipper.

X tried to stay conscious, gripping Miles, but everything hurt so damn bad.

He closed his eyes, and darkness took hold.

Muddled shouting sounded around him. The ground seemed to rumble. A distant horn wailed.

Sometime later, X heard a familiar female voice. He felt hands under his arms, lifting him to a sitting position.

He blinked at a blurred shape of a Hell Diver.

“King Xavier,” she said.

It was Magnolia, crouched in front of him with a medic.

They were on a beach now, with waves breaking near the shore.

A whimper drew X’s gaze toward Miles, who sat on his haunches, looking not too much the worse for wear.

“Is he okay?” X asked.

“Yes,” Magnolia said. “Are you okay?”

X managed a nod as he took in the scene.

Ten feet away, Kade and the Barracuda soldiers all stood like statues with their weapons cradled, helmets pointed at the ocean.

Not at the ocean, X realized.

Spotlights and flashlight beams lit up the area. The rumble of diesel engines rose over the white noise of the surf.

Two tanks rolled across the beach, with two APCs right behind them. A truck full of Cazador troops lurched along not far behind the armored vehicles.

One of the tanks jolted to a stop, and the turret popped open. Climbing out was a soldier with a red-plumed helmet.

“General Forge,” X whispered.

He looked back to Magnolia as Kade walked over.

“Mags,” X said. “How’d you . . .”

“You didn’t think I was gonna leave y’all, did ya?” she asked.

“How did they get here so fast?”

“I contacted General Forge, and he sent the Frog ahead of the Immortal when Captain Rolo refused to let us dive to you. Obviously, I dived anyways once the Frog arrived off the coast.”

X could see the shape of the small, fast ship standing a quarter mile out beyond the surf line. It had beelined here to help them with reinforcements.

“How long have I been out?” X asked.

“Not very long,” Kade said. “Good thing you guys showed up when you did, Mags. Those things are still out there.”

Magnolia leaned down to X and Miles.

“Did you find it?” she asked. “The Coral Castle?”

X shook his head. “But we did find something that could still save our home.”

“Where?”

“I’ll show you when we get to the airship,” X said. “We’re going to need it for what comes next. Tell Captain Rolo to get his geezer ass ready. I’m coming up there.”

thirteen

Teams Raptor and Wrangler crowded around Kade and King Xavier in the launch bay of the airship Vanguard.

White foam dripped off their armor from the chemical bath they all went through to destroy any life-forms and neutralize any toxins from the surface. The chemicals had taken far longer than normal to kill the spores that adhered to his armor and suit over the past few days on the surface.

The Sunshine Coast was unlike any place Kade had experienced on past dives, with the thick toxic jungle, mutant coral reefs, and amphibious monsters that had evolved to live in this harsh environment that was once home to his ancestors.

And soon, if he was right about the king’s intentions, Kade would be heading to an even harsher environment.

Brisbane.

An alarm sounded as the airship pulled up and away from the Frog, the fast-moving assault ship that had delivered the vehicles and soldiers to the Sunshine Coast thanks to the SOS Magnolia sent to General Forge on the Immortal.

“Commanders Katib and Long, meet me in the CIC in fifteen,” X growled.

“Sir, you should see a medic,” said Magnolia.

“No time, and I’m still in one piece. I’m more worried about Miles.”

The dog had taken some punishment in the field, but it was resilient, and Kade could see how much the animal meant to the king.

“He’s in good hands back on the Frog,” Magnolia said.

“Thanks again, Mags,” X said. “Miles and I would both be dead if it weren’t for you.”

Magnolia smiled and nodded as X hurried off with General Forge.

Kade went with Magnolia over to the lockers to put away their sanitized gear. It struck him as he put away his gear that he would be donning it again soon.

“Bloody hell, we’re gonna dive again,” he said.

“Yup.”

To Kade’s muted surprise, Magnolia wore a shit-eating grin.

“What I still don’t get is how you ended up on the Frog,” Kade said.

Magnolia chuckled. “I took the liberty of contacting General Forge and told him the king would be dead in twenty-four hours unless he hauled ass on the Frog. As soon as they arrived, I told Captain Rolo he could either let me leave or I would blow my way out of the launch bay.”

“Nice, mate.”

Magnolia shrugged. “When he found out General Forge was here, he caved like a sand castle in a tsunami.”

They made a pit stop at the head, and Kade grabbed a liter of water and some grub from the galley before rushing to the CIC.

He was parched, starving, and exhausted, but there was no time for sleep.

In the war room of the bridge, General Forge stood in front of a table. Captain Rolo, Timothy, and Lieutenant Eevi Corey were already there, looking at the logs Lieutenant Slayer had recovered from the Sea Sprite.

X kicked off the briefing with a deep exhalation.

“There’s still no sign of the Coral Castle—only the corpses of people who came here to find it,” he said.

“It’s out there,” Magnolia said.

“I’m not done searching for it,” he replied, “but there is another alternative that can help save our home.”

“All due respect, Your Majesty, but I’m not sure we have the time for another fruitless mission,” said Captain Rolo. “We received a dire message from Outpost Gateway about the Vanguard Islands just an hour ago.”

He nodded at Eevi to play it.

A message broke from the speakers.

“To the Vanguard fleet, this is Director Rodger Mintel. All is well here, and we are finishing laying the intake and output tunnels to the mobile desalination equipment. However, there are problems at the islands, and I received a message from Chief Everhart that you should hear.”

The radio crackled, and a different young voice came online.

“King Xavier, this is Chief Everhart, reporting another batch of poisoned fish, this one almost completely destroyed. We will seriously need to consider lowering rations to last us the next few months.”

Concerned looks went around the room. Every person there knew that without another food source, they were looking at a full-blown famine in the coming summer. And it would coincide with the return of the tropical storms.

“There is hope,” X said. He opened the book and pointed to the image of the ITC facility. “The Cazador crew located a seed vault that could provide hybrid seeds that grow faster and could withstand the extreme weather that killed off our last harvest.”

“Where is this—” Rolo began to say.

“Brisbane,” X said.

“Oh, my,” Timothy said. “King Xavier, I regret to inform you, that city was hit by not one, but two—”

“Nuclear bombs. I know, Pepper,” X said. “Good thing we have those nuclear-, biological-, and chemical-rated APCs.”

“Sir, I’ve studied the drone footage, and the roads into Brisbane are gone.” Timothy went over to the digital map flickering on the mounted screen. “As you can see, the craters are here . . . and here, and everything in this radius was erased in the blasts.”

X stepped in, and Kade moved closer.

“The ITC facility is on the border of this blast range,” X said. “It could be accessible.”

“King Xavier, do you think it’s possible the crew of the Sea Sprite didn’t travel there because they knew they wouldn’t be able to reach the vault?” Rolo asked.

“I think the crew of the Sea Sprite never got the chance to try. We already made it farther than they did.”

“They also didn’t have us,” Magnolia said.

“Us?” Rolo asked.

“Our heroes—the same people who saved you,” X said.

Rolo swallowed. “There is no way around, through, or above that storm. We’ve all been through this, and even if we could, you would be killed on the dive in.”

“We wouldn’t exactly be diving.” Magnolia addressed X. “Those APCs could fit in the launch bay, and we could drop inside them.”

Captain Rolo rubbed his temples. “You can’t be serious.”

“We have retrofitted them to protect them from lightning strikes, and we’ve test run the chutes successfully.”

“Let’s say they do protect you on the fall. How do you get them back in the sky?”

“We’ll drive them to an area where the airship can pick them up.”

“That’s the craziest idea I’ve ever heard.”

“It could work,” Eevi cut in.

“And how do you know that, Lieutenant?”

“Because I remember when Captain Maria Ash took us above the storms to save this very ship, and I ran a few routes earlier to see if it’s possible here. There seems to be a weak spot on the southwestern end that would allow us to descend above it.”

Rolo shook his head. “We go there . . . you go there, and you don’t come back,” he said, looking at Magnolia, then Kade.

“And if we don’t come back with food, we’re all going to starve,” X said. “Take a look at the map and give me your opinion, Captain—on the storm and only the storm.”

“I have taken a look and given my opinion.”

“Take another look.”

Rolo put on his spectacles and walked over as Eevi pulled up the digital map showing the radar and location of the electrical storms. There did seem to be a yellow point around the reddened southwestern edges that Kade could see.

“We descend to twenty thousand feet here, just above the storms, using this ascent route,” Eevi said. “Then we drop the APCs.”

Kade ran a finger along the burned edge of his cowboy hat. It was a crazy plan, no doubt, but it was all they had.

“I don’t know, it might work, assuming the storm doesn’t strengthen before we get there,” Rolo said.

All eyes went to King Xavier.

“How far is the Immortal?” he asked General Forge.

“Thirty-two hours away,” Forge replied.

X seemed to ponder this as he looked over the maps. He said, “Captain Rolo, your orders are to drop Team Wrangler and Team Raptor over Brisbane using the route Eevi plotted.”

“And what will you be doing, King Xavier?” Rolo asked.

“I didn’t come here to fuck spiders, as you people like to say.”

Kade snickered.

The king motioned to Forge and Slayer with his prosthetic arm. “I will return to the Sunshine Coast and join the Barracudas and a platoon of soldiers. Our first task will be to set up an FOB while we wait for the Immortal. When it arrives, we’ll resume our search for the Coral Castle.”

Rolo shook his head subtly and exchanged a glance with Kade, who remained stone-faced.

“Any questions?” X asked.

No one spoke, and the king’s titanium knuckles rapped the table.

“Mount up,” he said. “We sail and dive so humanity survives.”

* * * * *

“Your head is clear for this?” X asked.

“I’m ready to dive,” Magnolia said.

He looked in the eyes of the woman he had trusted more than any living person besides Michael. He saw the same fire burning there as the day he met her in the launch bay of the Hive. But this fire was different. It was fueled by the same anger that once fueled his own actions.

And it made him fear that this would be the last time he saw Magnolia.

“Mags, I don’t know what happened between you and Rodger, but don’t make the same mistake I made with Katrina when I was younger.”

“What was that?”

“Putting diving above a relationship.”

“Too late for that.” Magnolia brushed a pink-frosted tress behind her ear. “I already fucked that up with Rodger and that’s why I lost him.”

X had wondered why the hell he would want to take that position at Outpost Gateway, but now it all made sense. Magnolia had followed in X’s footsteps, being a selfish asshole and pushing people away.

“We are both crap at relationships,” X said, “but there is still hope for you, Mags.”

“Yeah, you’re right about that.”

“Go out there, get the job done, and come back to Rodger.”

She nodded.

“But this time, seriously, Mags, take some time off. Get married. Or don’t. Just let love . . .” He snorted. Who was he to give relationship advice?

“Let love?” Magnolia asked.

“Blossom, or some shit, I don’t know. I’m just a scarred old man, inside and outside, but I guess I do know one thing.” X touched his cheek above his beard. “Scars remind us of pain so we don’t make mistakes that cause more pain.”

He touched Magnolia’s cheek. “Be careful out there, Mags.”

“I will. You, too.”

X held her gaze, his heart hurting at the raw pain he saw there now.

So this was what it felt like to be a father.

In a way, Michael and Magnolia were the children X never had. He loved them both as his own, and he felt it when they hurt.

“Come here, kid,” he said.

He wrapped his arm around her, pulling her tight.

“I love you, Mags,” he said.

“I love you, too, X.”

He relaxed his embrace.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

“Yeah—just getting soft, I guess.”

“We can’t let that happen.” Magnolia gave him a gentle punch to the gut.

They laughed and parted ways.

X joined General Forge and Lieutenant Slayer at the launch-bay doors. Technicians there had affixed ropes to get them back down to the Frog. X raised his arm to let a tech secure his armor.

Wind gusted outside, and rain whipped through the open doors. X moved into position, looking down at the violent ocean, where the amphibious assault craft waited. Miles was there, and X was anxious to get back to his dog.

He turned to the veteran Hell Divers standing with the rookies behind them.

Gran Jefe, Sofia, Edgar, Arlo, Magnolia, and Kade were all standing at attention under the banners of Teams Wrangler and Raptor. They were humankind’s best hope right now. X wished desperately to join them, but he had his own mission.

“All it takes is all you got,” he said, reciting the United States Reconnaissance Marine motto.

X turned back toward the ocean, clipped in to the rope, and rappelled down to the Frog.

Two APCs were already waiting on the ship’s deck. A team of workers prepared to transfer them to the airship. X sat down behind the vehicles, where an open shipping container of bulky armored suits was being prepped for a long-haul raid. Forge and Slayer rappelled down to the deck right after him and headed down to the stern, where a pair of tactical assault rafts awaited.

General Forge put on the thick armor. When he was done, he stood there like a giant, reminding X of the Cazadores he had once encountered in the wastes.

“Get the boats ready for launch,” X said. “I’m heading inside to find my dog.”

“Yes, sir,” Forge said.

X stopped at the sound of a howl. It sounded rather like Miles, but he quickly realized that this was another animal.

Realization hit him when he entered the troop hold, where Jo-Jo sat crying in the corner of a big cage.

He walked over to her, his heart aching over the animal’s distress.

It reached out its hand, looking at X with sad eyes. Behind her, little piles of excrement littered the deck.

X saw that the water bowl was empty; the food bowl, too.

“Son of a bitch,” he said. “I’m sorry, Jo-Jo. I’ll get someone to come take care of you.”

The monkey let out a sad grunt and slouched against the cage.

She missed Ada, that was for sure, and X hated keeping her locked away, but he had no choice. The creature was still a wild beast from the wastes, and without its handler, it posed a threat to the crew.

Perhaps, it was time to let her loose in the wild.

“I’ll be right back,” X said.

He found a crew member in the troop hold and gave them a good dressing-down. A few minutes later, a sailor rushed across the room with fish and bananas.

“I’ll take them,” X said.

The sailor put them down in front of the cage, bowed, and backed away.

X handed the fish and bananas through the bars. Jo-Jo took them gently from his hands, swallowing them almost whole. He unlatched the bars and brought the water pail inside.

The monkey backed away.

“It’s okay,” X said, emptying the water pail into a trough.

Jo-Jo bent down and slurped up the fresh water, watching X as she drank. He reached out to pet her, but she backed away.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he said. “And no one else is going to, either.”

A memory surfaced of Gran Jefe’s confrontation with the animal. It still didn’t make sense to X what had happened, but maybe Jo-Jo blamed Gran Jefe for Ada’s death. Maybe she had seen what happened and thought he had something to do with it.

“You miss Ada, don’t you?” X said quietly. He missed the young officer and diver, too, but she was at peace now.

His headset hissed with a message from the medical bay. They had finished the exam on Miles.

“Sorry, but I got to go now,” X said.

Jo-Jo whined again as he left the cage and locked it shut. He looked at the animal one more time and then rushed off to the medical bay.

The sole medic on duty, a bilingual corporal named Valeria Delgado, greeted him. She was middle-aged, with long dark hair, and eyes the color of the ocean at night.

“King Xavier, follow me,” she said.

She opened a hatch to an exam room, where Miles sat in a cage. The dog jumped to his feet, whipping his tail back and forth.

He went to open the gate, but Valeria stopped him by raising a hand.

“Easy, boy,” X said, crouching. He kept his eyes on Miles but whispered, “What’s wrong with my dog, Corporal?”

“He have possible internal injury. Very sensitive when I touch here,” she said, mimicking the spot with her hand on her stomach. “He also have a sprain front foot. His left. He need rest.”

“How bad is the internal injury?”

“Only time will tell. I don’t have proper equipment here to see. All back on Immortal.”

X touched the cage door as Miles pawed at the metal.

“It’s okay, buddy. We’re going to get you all better,” he said.

“He will be okay, King Xavier, but he needs rest.”

X had seen his dog in far worse shape, but he was old, and injuries at this age, even for the hybrid animal, took longer to heal.

X got up slowly, trying to think.

The Sunshine Coast was no place for Miles now, not in this condition.

“I’m sorry, boy,” X said. “You got to stay here with this nice woman. She will take good care of you.”

She smiled, showing a nice set of straight, unsharpened teeth.

“I watch him, you no worry, King,” Valeria said. “Está bien.”

X started to back away but hesitated, unable to look away from Miles.

God damn it, he cared more about animals than humans sometimes, but that was his nature. Animals were pure creatures, especially dogs. Their love was unconditional—even if you don’t deserve it.

“You sure you don’t want me to take a look at you?” Valeria asked. “I was told you both got—”

“I’m fine. Just a few bruises, is all.”

He had to force himself to leave without turning. Miles was like his child, and seeing him in pain was like seeing Magnolia or Michael in pain.

X hurried back to the upper deck, turning his mind to his work. Opening a hatch, he stepped out into the gusting wind and a cool, light rain. Shouting came from two aircraft marshallers using glow sticks to signal the airship Vanguard. Chains lowered toward the two NBC-rated personnel carriers waiting on the deck with four technicians.

As the chains lowered, the technicians climbed onto the hoods and rooftops, then attached them to three load points on each APC.

X went back to the cargo hold, where the rafts were loaded with crates, including locked hazard boxes containing the radioactive-proof tents. They came with air filtration units that would be imperative in setting up a forward operating base amid the airborne toxins at the Sunshine Coast.

There were also tanks of fuel for flamethrowers and vehicles.

X was leaving nothing to chance out there. He wanted to be ready for anything. But they lacked one key thing right now: firepower.

Most of the remaining ammunition was on the Immortal, and until the supercarrier arrived, General Forge and his thirty soldiers would be down to small arms, spears, and the flamethrowers.

It wasn’t much, but it was all they had for now, and they would make do, just as Michael and all the citizens of the Vanguard Islands were making do back at home.

That was another reason X couldn’t afford to wait around.

The extinction clock was ticking for his people, and with the Hell Divers soon heading off to search for seeds, he would continue the quest for the Coral Castle.

“Ready to deploy,” said General Forge.

“My team has secured the lighthouse and is awaiting our arrival,” Slayer added.

X turned back to the hatch that led to the medical bay. His heart tugged at him to go say goodbye to Miles again, but he didn’t want to work the dog up needlessly. He would visit him as soon as the supplies were unloaded and the FOB was secure.

The troops piled into the two rafts, with X following. As soon as they were all in, Slayer waved at the technician controlling the platform. It jolted as cables lowered them toward the ocean.

Overhead, the beetle shape of the Vanguard rose toward the storm clouds, the two APCs already loaded in its cargo bay. The turbofans clicked off and the thrusters fired blue flames, propelling the mammoth ship across the sky.

X watched it vanish on the horizon. “Good luck, heroes,” he whispered.

“Fight well,” said General Forge.

The rafts thumped across the waves toward the Point Cartwright Lighthouse. The tower of ancient stone drew closer and closer.

“Prepare to beach!” Slayer yelled. He followed with orders in Spanish.

The soldiers in the two boats stood as they neared the surf. Waves slapped against the eroded beaches and the crags in front of the lighthouse. The raft hit the surf. X braced against the rubber wall of the craft as it rode a wave in to the beach.

The bow crunched up over the sand.

“Out! ¡Vámonos!” Slayer yelled.

The soldiers jumped over the sides into knee-deep water. X climbed over the bow and dropped to the sand.

The troops pulled the rafts up to a grove of spiny palm trees.

Above them, the lighthouse towered over the shore. With its vantage, it was the perfect place to set up the FOB and plan their next steps.

With the boats pulled up under the trees, half the soldiers fanned out to set up a perimeter while the other half started unloading crates.

“Send up a drone as soon as they’re unloaded,” X said. “I want a full recon of this area.”

“Sí, King Xavier,” Forge said.

The general remained behind to supervise while X and Slayer ran up a winding trail to the base of the lighthouse.

Nearing the structure, Slayer stopped behind a tree and whistled.

Two armored shapes emerged from the darkness. It was Corporals Khan and Sidner. They guided X and Slayer to a second structure that was once a water cistern. The roof was gone, and the walls were broken open like an eggshell.

Sergeant Blackburn stood sentry behind the two tanks on the eastern edge of the bluff. Both cannon barrels pointed at the rubble of hotels and resorts on the land bridge connecting to the peninsula.

Slayer went over to Sergeant Blackburn, who spoke in Spanish.

X didn’t understand any of it this time.

“What’d he say?” X asked.

“My men found something you should see,” Slayer replied. “This way.”

They went into the lighthouse and up a stairwell. At the top, Corporal Mazo was waiting in the lookout. Scattered on the floor were pieces of armor, a beaked helmet, and a sword.

“Another one?” X asked.

“Looks that way,” Slayer said. “This guy’s been here a long time.”

X bent down to examine the remains, putting them together like a puzzle. The pelvis and femurs were still inside the armor, but the chest armor was empty and the skull was missing from the helmet.

“One of those serpent things must have killed him,” he said. “It slithered all the way up here.”

Rising to his feet, X went to the overlook and stared out over the toxic jungle that had consumed the Sunshine Coast. Slayer joined him in front of the broken glass.

“You think these knights killed the people that came here?” Slayer asked.

“That’s what I thought when we found that waterfall pool, but now I’m not so sure.”

X turned back to the ocean, where the Frog stood out in a flash of lightning. He thought of Miles inside the cage, his heart aching at the thought of his buddy locked away. But this was for his own good. Miles was getting old, and X had to accept that.

It was time to head back into the wastes without his trusted companion. He would miss having his nose and senses, but . . .

X’s eyes narrowed. There was another animal just waiting to be put to use—an animal that had evolved to live in places like this.

“Lieutenant,” X said.

“Sir.”

“Bring Jo-Jo on the next raft. She’s going to help us find the Coral Castle.”

fourteen

Magnolia reached into her vest as a tremor shook the airship. She pulled out the recording she had made for Rodger and walked into the CIC.

Lightning flashed across the viewports at the helm, backlighting Captain Rolo’s wide form. “Are your divers ready?” he asked without turning.

“We are.” Magnolia went to Eevi and handed her the recording.

Thunder rattled the bulkheads.

“Please get this to Rodger as soon as you can get an open line,” Magnolia said.

Eevi took the flash and nodded. “I will. You be careful, and come back so you can tell Rodger whatever you want to say in person.”

“Captain, we’re almost in position,” Timothy said. “We’re right on the border of the storm front, but the window is still open to enter the coordinates Lieutenant Corey discovered.”

“Proceed,” Captain Rolo replied.

Magnolia went to the AI next.

“Watch our backs,” she whispered.

Then she rushed back to the launch bay, where the two APCs were ready to go.

The Hell Divers had just finished loading them with fresh fruit, vegetables, and dried fish from the Vanguard Islands. Technicians made last-second checks on the trucks, especially the new panels and exterior layers to insulate from lightning.

When they finished, two workers pushed a cart with a gas tank over. One of them held a tablet to calculate the exact amount of fuel being used. Everything was tabulated and accounted for, not a drop of the precious resource wasted.

But it all would pay off if they could find the seed bank. The hybrid seeds would give the Vanguard Islands the chance they needed to rebuild and grow stronger. It was a lifeline. And that was worth the risk.

The divers all turned toward Magnolia as she strode across the room. She took a moment to watch them from a distance. These people were her friends and family, and where they were going would be one of the most dangerous missions in their careers.

Gran Jefe chewed on a piece of fish jerky, watching her with a raised brow. He stood next to Arlo, who had just finished loading a crate with drinking water and more jerky.

Both Edgar and Sofia appeared nervous but also resolute. Tia fidgeted with the turquoise necklace hanging over her chest armor. She was probably the most nervous of them all.

Kade tipped his cowboy hat up to look at Magnolia.

“We’re really doing this?” Arlo said. “Dropping into Brisbane?”

“I hear it is a frying pan,” Gran Jefe said. He made a sizzling noise with his tongue.

“You heard right,” Magnolia said.

“That definitely inspires confidence,” Arlo replied.

“This is a volunteer mission only,” Magnolia announced. “If you don’t want to come, no one’s going to hold it against you.”

She opened a case and pulled out the plastic box containing the last of their antiradiation pills, used only on missions inside red zones.

“If you’re coming, take one of these,” she said.

Edgar stepped up and popped a pill into his mouth. Kade came next along with Sofia, who smiled at Magnolia.

Arlo grunted and swallowed a pill. Tia and Gran Jefe seemed to hesitate.

Kade had already expressed his hesitation about Tia coming to Magnolia’s team, but ultimately, they both knew it was her decision.

Tia snorted and grabbed a pill. “What the hell. I want to see where my ancestors came from.”

“You coming, big guy?” Arlo asked.

Gran Jefe said something under his breath in Spanish—something about the Barracudas, but Magnolia wasn’t sure. He finally took a pill.

They were all coming, and while they had yet to replace Ada, Magnolia felt confident this was enough for the mission.

“Okay, let’s rack up,” Magnolia said.

Edgar and Arlo followed her into the brown-and-black six-wheeler APC. She took the wheel and tapped the tactical display between the two seats while Edgar climbed into the passenger seat and Arlo jumped in back.

Kade got Team Wrangler into the brown-and-green APC. They closed the doors, and he fired up the engine.

Red lights flashed in the launch bay—a final warning to the technicians and staff, who hurried out of the room after final checks.

Magnolia chinned her comm pad and said, “Wrangler One, this is Raptor One, do you copy?”

“Copy, Raptor One,” Kade replied over the channel. “All systems are online.”

Edgar finished his checks of the APC dashboard.

“Captain Rolo, this is Raptor One, confirming we’re loaded and ready,” Magnolia said.

“Good luck,” Rolo said. “I hope you know what you’re doing .”

She looked through the windshield. A blue light swirled around the room.

A countdown came across her HUD. Ten minutes.

The APC rumbled and shook as the airship pierced the storm clouds, thrusters blasting, propelling them into the electrical soup.

Magnolia trusted Eevi, but she also knew how fast a storm could change. The route they were taking had a window, and by the time they got on the ground and finished their mission, that window would be closed—maybe long before.

“God damn,” said Arlo in the back. “This is—”

The ship shook violently, swaying the APC in the tracks they had secured it to on the deck. Metal groaned, resonating through the launch bay.

An emergency siren wailed, and Timothy announced a warning for all personnel to stay in their shelters.

“Man, I feel sick,” Arlo said. “Are you sure this is going to work?”

“Relax,” Edgar said.

“It’ll work,” Magnolia said.

The airship roared like a prehistoric beast as the thrusters propelled them higher into the storm.

They were flying through a wide tunnel of storm clouds that formed a passage through the monster electrical storm.

Magnolia imagined them on a highway winding through molten lava. In a way, the analogy wasn’t all that far off. Deviating from the path would be the end of the airship and everyone aboard.

At the five-minute mark, it felt as if the hull were coming apart. Magnolia gripped an overhead handle and closed her eyes. She pictured Rodger at Outpost Gateway, working outside in his radiation suit. The thought broke her heart. All she could do was hope the message Eevi was relaying to him would help him understand.

If Magnolia came back from this mission, she would make things right. Finally, she would focus on the two of them.

Her mind drifted as the airship shook violently.

“Two minutes—just a little longer,” she said.

Magnolia flinched at a thunderclap like a gunshot. Her eyes popped open to red lights flashing in the launch bay.

The emergency siren wailed.

Static hissed in her helmet as the command channel came on with the voice of Captain Rolo, reporting a lightning strike to panel 3. His voice was lost to the emergency siren and the groan of the airship hull straining in the turbulence.

Magnolia watched the countdown hit one minute.

“We can’t take much more of this!” Arlo shouted.

“We’re going to make it!” Edgar yelled back.

The airship moved into the storm, rumbling violently.

Captain Rolo stayed the course, surprising Magnolia. The old bastard actually had a pair after all.

Magnolia gripped the overhead handle tighter, her heart pounding. The APC shook, lights flickering, siren wailing.

And then it all stopped.

At thirty seconds, the airship burst through the top of the storm, and a cool white light filled the launch bay.

The doors retracted, letting in the white glow.

“Holy shit,” Magnolia said.

“Wow,” Edgar said quietly.

They both stared at a brilliant moon, something the divers had seen only on rare occasions.

“It’s beautiful,” Arlo said.

“Better take a good hard look, because that view is about to change real fast,” Edgar said.

“Clear for launch,” Rolo said over the command channel. “Good luck, divers.”

Magnolia could hardly believe they made it through.

The vehicles lurched as the automated tracks clicked on, moving them closer to the ramp. She looked up at the stars as the APC clicked loose and rolled down the ramp.

The distant stars vanished, replaced with a view of a cloud floor below, like a vast, soft mattress flashing blue.

The APC went topsy-turvy, giving them one final view of the airship’s beetle shape, reflecting the moonlight off its shiny hull. Then she felt the opening shock of the huge cargo chutes inflating and turning the APC right side up.

She tapped the control panel to bring on the lights inside the cabin.

Magnolia tensed as wind lashed the vehicle.

In some ways, this was much worse than a normal free-fall dive. Diving free, she could at least control her own body, but the two APCs, floating down under the canopy, were at the storm’s mercy. The insulating panels had better work.

On her HUD, she saw the four green dots representing Team Wrangler, in the other APC. They were already five hundred feet lower than Team Raptor.

A moment later, all four dots winked offline, making her heart skip.

Her HUD went offline a moment later, reassuring her that it was just the electrical storm’s interference. In the vehicles, they were insulated from lightning. It was the landing they had to worry about.

But without her tactical display, Magnolia had no good idea what their altitude was.

“This was a terrible idea!” Arlo shouted.

This time, Edgar didn’t yell back. He just groaned.

Magnolia closed her eyes, trying to center herself. Another loud crack popped them open.

Wind whistled over the two-ton vehicle. Magnolia saw forking lines of electricity flashing across a dark sea. A strike illuminated the other APC, below them to the left.

They were in the heart of the storm now, probably around twelve thousand feet, and descending slightly nose-down.

A boom louder than a shotgun hit the passenger side of the APC, like a truck hitting the door.

“shit! We’re hit!” Arlo shouted.

The lights flickered and winked off, leaving them in almost complete darkness.

“I can’t see!” Arlo yelled.

“Shut up, Arlo!” Edgar growled. “Or I’m going to smack you!”

Magnolia turned on her helmet lamps and took a deep calming breath. In the sky, all panicking did was get you killed. And if anyone died, it was on her.

When the lights didn’t come back on, her heart thrummed faster. She needed to know where they were.

“Damn, that must have fried the electrical system,” Edgar said, shining his helmet lights at the gauges.

“So much for being insulated,” Arlo said.

Magnolia checked her HUD and saw numbers flickering.

“Son of a bitch,” she said.

She stared out the windshield, searching for the shelf of clouds. The lightning hit had rattled her so badly she lost count.

“We have to be getting close to five thousand feet,” she said. “Edgar, right?”

“I . . .” He shook his head. “I don’t know.”

Lightning forked across the horizon in brilliant arcs. Their HUDs suddenly activated again, flickering to life on their faceplates.

Two thousand feet.

Magnolia looked out the window for her first view of the surface. It was flat and dark and in no way an old-world city.

Edgar leaned forward. “Is that a lake?” he asked.

“It shouldn’t be,” Magnolia said.

“We’re falling toward a lake?” Arlo said. “I thought this was supposed to be a city!”

“We’re way off course,” Edgar said.

According to the minimap on her HUD, they were ten miles from their designated DZ.

Magnolia checked the location of the other APC. They were sailing right for the flat desert terrain almost nine miles to the west.

The APC sailed right for a mutant forest along the water’s edge. There wasn’t much Magnolia could do to guide them.

She watched as the red branches reached up toward them like arthritic fingers.

The canopies sailed through the air, but they were coming in fast. Too fast.

“Brace yourselves!” Magnolia shouted.

The wheels slammed into the top of the trees, shattering branches.

The canopies ripped, and some of the lines snapped.

“Hold on,” Edgar stuttered as the APC went topsy-turvy again, slamming into another tree and breaking off a massive limb. Branches broke against the windshield, which miraculously held.

Magnolia clenched her jaw and tensed as the truck snapped through lower, thicker limbs that seemed to slow its descent. The front tilted upward.

Holding on to the wheel, Magnolia braced herself as the ground rose to meet the front wheels first.

The force knocked the air from her lungs and whipped her back, then forward. She tried to move, but the harness held her fast. When her vision cleared, she saw they were vertical, with the front of the truck nosed into the dirt.

Something must have caught on their roof or side, keeping them in the upright position.

Edgar stirred next to her, raising a glove to his helmet.

“Oh, man,” he muttered. “You guys okay?”

There was no response from the back.

Magnolia unbuckled her harness and then turned to look for Arlo. He was slumped in his seat, helmet down to his chest.

“Arlo,” she mumbled.

Metal groaned, followed by snapping and cracking.

The truck suddenly pitched in that direction.

Magnolia, who was already out of her seat, fell onto Edgar as the APC rocked onto its side.

This time, the impact wasn’t bad. She pushed herself off Edgar.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Fine.”

She turned to Arlo, who was moving now.

“Hold still,” she said.

Arlo unbuckled and fell, crunching on the floor with a thud.

“God damn, do you ever listen?” Edgar said.

Magnolia climbed back into the troop hold to check on Arlo.

“You good?” she asked.

He nodded.

“I think I might have . . .”

“What?”

“It’s nothing,” Arlo said.

“Wouldn’t be the first time you’ve pissed yourself,” Edgar laughed.

He climbed back with them.

Magnolia pulled out her blaster. “Get ready,” she said. “I’m going to open the hatch. Make sure your suits are a hundred percent.”

The divers took a few moments to go over their armor and gear.

After confirming they were all ready, she grabbed the hatch release.

“Wait,” Arlo said.

“What now?” Edgar asked. “Did you shit yourself, too?”

Magnolia glanced back at Arlo.

“Check your minimap for the other APC,” he said. “I don’t see their beacon.”

fifteen

Two weeks had passed since King Xavier left the Vanguard Islands. Michael had no contact with him since then except through messages that came from Outpost Gateway. And he had yet to hear an update on the SOS that the king made two days ago, which was picked up from the outpost.

In that time, Michael had grown more and more anxious amid the growing unrest and uncertainty. He even ordered Lieutenant Wynn to deploy more guards to protect the food depots at the farming rig.

Michael was here to meet Wynn for an update. Steve and Victor had joined him, but Michael had left Ton to stay with Layla and the children.

Clouds of rain drifted across the sunset, sheeting down onto the distant rigs. The sight of the storm didn’t help his anxiety any. He reached up to finger the brim of the hat X had given him. Touching it seemed to help brighten his spirits.

“Let’s go,” Michael said.

Victor started up the ladders to the middle level. At the top landing, Steve said, “We’ve installed new hatches to each of the decks in multiple locations. The idea is, if anyone ever does try to raid the rig, they’re going to have a hell of a time getting to the food since these locks only have a few key copies and you have the master.”

Michael looked at Cricket as he raised his robotic hand to knock on the hatch. The device was now programmed to generate a new code that would unlock the food depots. But he wasn’t telling anyone that. It was strictly a last resort.

“Chief Everhart, here to see Lieutenant Wynn,” Michael said as he knocked.

The locking mechanism clicked, and a militia soldier opened it slightly. He looked at Michael and Steve.

“Go on, sir,” said the guard.

They passed through three more hatches before hitting the main food depot. Lieutenant Wynn waited outside the hatch with two soldiers, cutlasses sheathed at the waist, machine guns slung across the chest.

“Chief,” Wynn said.

“Lieutenant, let’s make this quick,” Michael said. “I know you have a hundred other things to do.”

Wynn directed the soldiers to open the double hatch, using two keys. They pushed it open to a large chamber with six cisterns holding fresh water. There were also shelves upon shelves of jarred fruits and vegetables.

“I’ve doubled up our patrols on the other decks and at the marina,” Wynn said. “I’ve also placed two soldiers at each of the entrances to this room. The only person with access besides us is Imulah, who is in charge of tabulating the reserves.”

Michael spotted the scribe across the room, jotting down figures as he walked down the rows of shelves. There were fewer jars of fruits and vegetables since Michael was here only a week ago. Despite the tighter rationing, they were burning through their provisions at an alarming rate.

Michael continued the tour down to the livestock deck. Before reaching the closed hatch, he could hear the squawking and smell the manure and feathers.

Unlike at the food depot, many people, sky farmers and Cazadores as well, worked on this deck, tending to the chickens.

Wynn led the way, nodding at his guards, who patrolled the vast space.

Another scribe was busy tallying baskets of eggs that were just gathered.

“At least the livestock is faring well,” Michael said. He looked inside the pens at the hundreds of chickens and turkeys, and beyond them he could see the cages of rabbits and guinea pigs.

Farmers strode past, carrying hay and buckets of manure.

“Overall, I think the rig is secure,” Wynn said. “Best we can make it, anyhow—thanks to Steve.”

“I agree. Nice work, Deputy,” Michael said.

“It was a good change of pace for me, figuring out ways to keep people out instead of designing weapons to help them raid places.” Steve flashed a toothy grin. “Hopefully, we never have to see if the hatches work.”

“Let’s hope. I’ll be in touch, Lieutenant,” Michael said.

They parted ways, and Michael, Steve, and Victor returned to the marina. Patrols of three guards were posted across the attached piers to search incoming and outgoing boats. The Sea Wolf was tethered to the end of the center dock.

Alton poked his head out of the cabin, waving.

“Chief, weather’s getting bad!” he shouted.

“We’re almost done,” Michael said. “Get the boat ready to sail.”

“Aye, aye, mate!”

He vanished back into the cabin.

The kid was doing okay after losing his mom. He had been Michael’s shadow for the past week, helping on the Sea Wolf when he wasn’t in school. That was their agreement: Alton would keep going to classes if he wanted to remain a deckhand.

Michael turned to the flashing storm clouds. He used Cricket to radio Pedro and make sure this storm wasn’t getting worse.

“ Na verdade, it passing by,” Pedro replied on the comm. “Should be clear in an hour.”

“Copy that. Thanks.”

Michael turned to Steve. “I’m going to head to the trading-post rig. You want a lift?”

“No, I’d better get back to the Wind Talker and check on turbine 4,” he said. “Was having some troubles earlier today.”

“Okay, I’ll see you later.”

Steve took off and climbed on his Jet Ski, pulled his green sunglasses over his eyes, and cranked the engine. Twisting the throttle, he sped off, spraying a rooster tail of water up behind him.

“Let’s go!” he shouted with a laugh.

Michael shook his head. Steve was like a seventy-year-old kid, with the skills of a century-old bladesmith and engineer. A jack-of-all-trades if Michael ever knew one.

“We’re ready,” Alton said.

Michael boarded the Sea Wolf with Victor, who helped him get the boat out of the marina. From there, they headed east to the trading-post rig, where Michael hoped Layla would still be waiting for him.

There was a light breeze tonight, but he opted for the engine. He would burn precious gas to get there on time.

Victor said nothing on the journey. He looked exhausted, and why wouldn’t he? He worked the same hours Michael worked, and took turns with Ton back at the capitol tower, watching over Michael and Layla’s living quarters at night.

Michael felt bad for both men, but he was grateful to have their watchful eyes and their spears.

By the time they got to the trading-post rig, the storm had passed and the moon hung high in the early evening sky.

Working together, Victor and Alton tied up the boat.

“You’re getting good at knots,” Michael said.

“Nothing to it, really,” Alton said, throwing a keeper knot on the stern line.

The three men headed up to the main trading floor, which was bustling with activity. Most of the deck had been repaired since the storm over a month ago, but not all the vendors had recovered.

Many booths were empty tonight. Nothing to sell or barter.

Still, a crowd shifted through the alleys and passageways. Michael spotted Ton, standing with his spear next to a shack that sold soap.

Layla was here, with Bray strapped to her back, and Rhino in a chest sling. She held up a bar of soap, smelling it deeply as Ton eyed the crowd, spear in hand.

In the moonlight, Michael studied his wife from afar. She had put her hair in braids tonight and wore a light cotton dress that Michael had scavenged from a warehouse.

A knife hung from the leather belt around her waist. On the other side, she carried a pistol. And Michael knew, they were not just ornamentation.

Halfway across the open area, Cricket chirped.

“Chief, this is Pedro, do you copy? ”

Michael pushed the radio up to his mouth. “Michael here, go ahead.”

“Sir, are you somewhere . . . privado?”

“No, give me a minute.” He turned to Alton. “I’ll be right back, okay?”

Alton was gripping his stomach.

“You okay?” Michael asked.

“My stomach hurts, but I don’t remember hurting it.”

“When did you eat last?”

“I don’t remember.”

It saddened Michael that the kid got stomachaches because he was hungry. Alton didn’t even seem to connect the two.

Michael reached into his pocket for a coin. “Go get something to eat,” he said. The boy thanked him and took off into the crowd while Victor followed Michael to a ladder.

He climbed to an upper deck with an alley of hatches to private quarters of brothels and pubs. Hit hard by the storm, they were almost all closed.

The place where Rhino had died defending X wasn’t far, but Michael stopped before he got there. Anxious to see what Pedro wanted to tell him, he checked to make sure no one was around. Victor scanned the dark passage and then nodded, confirming that it was clear.

“Pedro, do you copy?” Michael asked.

“Sim. I just hear from Immortal, sir.” There was a pause, a loud crackle of static. Then, “The supercarrier launch an assault craft and they pull King Xavier and his team from Sunshine Coast.”

Michael sighed with relief. “Did they find the Coral Castle?”

“Negative, but they locate ITC facility and have send Hell Divers to Brisbane.”

“That’s a red zone, right?”

“Sim. It was hit by two nuclear bombs during war.”

Michael felt the relief fade away. X might be safe, but the divers were heading into the inferno.

“Anything else?” he asked.

“Não mais, Chief. I update if we get more.”

“Copy that. Thanks, Pedro.”

Michael tucked the radio away and found Victor looking over the railing at the end of the passage. He motioned for Michael, who hurried over.

When he got there, Victor pointed down at the main aisle of food vendors. Michael saw Alton first, munching on a kebab skewer of fish and vegetables.

Then he saw what Victor was pointing at.

Layla was talking to someone.

Michael stepped closer, his gut tightening at the sight of a large man talking to Layla. The face was turned away, but all Michael needed to see was the whip attached to his belt.

“Son of a bitch,” Michael said.

Oliver was talking to Layla, and he knew this wasn’t by chance. He also knew that Charmer wouldn’t be far, although Michael didn’t see him in the crowd.

Ton stood a few feet away from Layla and the kids, watching Oliver and the crowd.

Layla smiled at Oliver as the big man leaned down to talk to Rhino and then to Bray.

Blood boiling, Michael wanted to shout at the bastard to get away from his family. But he didn’t want to create a scene. Not here.

Oliver took something from his tunic and handed it to Layla. Michael had seen enough. He turned and darted back the way he had come.

By the time he got down to Layla, Oliver was gone.

“Michael, hey,” she said. “I wasn’t expecting . . .”

Michael scanned the crowd.

“What’s wrong?” she asked. “Did you hear from X?”

Rhino reached out to Michael, and Bray looked over Layla’s shoulder, cooing and drooling.

“Michael,” Layla said.

“X is fine.”

“Then, what’s wrong?”

“What did that man give you,” Michael said.

“Oliver?”

“He works for Charmer.”

Layla looked at Michael, realization passing over her eyes. She had not been at the last council meeting, and Michael had told her only a few things about Charmer, but enough that she understood.

“What did he give you?” Michael asked again.

She pulled out a red gemstone unlike any he had ever seen.

“What did he say when he handed it to you?” Michael asked.

“That he hoped the gift would help me.”

Michael searched the crowd for Charmer and his posse. They were out there somewhere, probably watching and having a laugh.

“This wasn’t from Oliver, it was from Charmer,” Michael said. “He doesn’t give anything for free. It’s always some sort of transaction.”

“Are you sure it’s not a gift?”

“That’s no gift, Mrs. Everhart.” Alton stepped up and looked at the rock. “That’s a fire opal,” he said. “My people have collected those since long before the big fire war. Most were for good luck, but I remember my dad saying something about the red ones.”

“Saying what?” Michael asked.

Alton lowered the half-eaten kebab. “I think he said they symbolized blood and death.”

Michael took the stone in his robotic hand, his blood boiling. He resisted the urge to crush it into powder.

“I’ll deal with this,” he said.

“What are you going to do?” Layla asked.

“I don’t know yet. And neither does Charmer.”

* * * * *

Outpost Gateway was almost open for business.

Rodger sat in the command room with Lieutenant Bromista and Corporal Ancla. Earlier this morning, he had authorized the deployment of worker crews with military escorts while a tech team monitored the radiation spikes. For the past two days, they had not detected any around the outpost.

Even better, Rodger had received a message that King Xavier was rescued on his mission to find the Coral Castle, where they had discovered the Sea Sprite. The Cazadores had made it to Australia after all, though none appeared to have survived.

There was no news on the Hell Divers, and Rodger hoped that meant things were okay. Still, he worried about his friends and Magnolia, who he had heard nothing from. He was also worried about Yejun, who had once again left the outpost to visit the grave of his family. Rodger had waited several hours in the bunker for him to return. He was hoping to give Yejun some work today.

“Corporal Ancla, can you contact the squad at the salvage yard and see if they have eyes on Yejun?” Rodger asked.

Bromista turned from his monitor. “¡Aquí!”

Rodger looked at a video feed of the kid walking through the outpost in his ghillie suit.

“Finally,” Rodger said. “I’m heading topside to get some work done. Let me know if anything happens.”

Ancla and Bromista both nodded.

Rodger put on his radiation suit and found Yejun in the camp. The youngster walked right over.

“Sorry,” he said.

“It’s okay,” Rodger said. He considered asking where Yejun had been, but they were running late. Together they walked to the gate.

The guard raised a hand to a sentry in a tower that operated the gate. The two massive doors squeaked open to a view of the canal. Spotlights raked back and forth from the guard towers.

Soldiers patrolled on the platform above the twenty-foot walls of containers forming the border around the outpost. Another pair of soldiers walked near the edge of the canal, their weapons aimed at the murky water. They were guarding the construction crews working along the banks, all of whom now reported to Rodger.

For the past few days, he had taken time to get to know all of them and to go over tasks already completed and tasks they needed to finish.

Two wind turbines chopped the air at the crest of a hill west of the outpost, charging batteries to power the bunker. Most of the outpost was finished now, too, but they still needed clean water.

It was crazy to think the toxic ocean slapping against the dirt banks could be made drinkable, but they would soon find out once the desalination equipment was installed.

Rodger had spent several hours going over the plans for the intake and outlet tunnels. They were halfway done boring under the outpost walls and out toward the canal banks. When they hit the canal’s concrete wall, Rodger brought them a compressor and a 120-pound jackhammer, which he could now hear thumping away. Near the bank, an excavator with a rusted scoop bit off hunks of dirt and dumped it in neat piles.

Rodger walked that way with Yejun.

The rumbling excavator backed up, close to the steep sloping edge of the bank. The operator worked the hydraulic levers to carve out another slice of mud.

Rodger waved to get his attention and motion him away from the bank.

“Careful!” Rodger shouted. “¡Cuidado! ”

It was pointless to yell. The guy couldn’t hear him over the jackhammer, anyway.

Rodger ran over, waving. The worker on the excavator finally noticed him and killed the machine.

The Cazador opened the cab and hopped out. He wore the orange suit and breathing mask that all the workers wore out here.

“I’ll take over,” Rodger said.

He climbed up into the seat and put it in gear. This wasn’t his first time driving an excavator, but it was still awkward with his prosthetic foot.

Using the pedals, he rolled the treads forward, away from the bank. He lowered the arm and dragged the clawed scoop through the mud.

Over the next few hours, he showed Yejun how to operate the machine. When he was finally comfortable, he let the youngster take over.

Rodger watched from outside, sweat trickling down his head in the stifling hazard suit. His mind drifted from Magnolia to his parents. He knew they would be proud of him if they were alive, though they both had always wanted grandchildren.

When he thought about the course of his life, it seemed almost like a punishment that he should end up here in the wastes, digging a ditch.

Rodger turned toward the rumble of engines. The front gates of the outpost opened, letting out a convoy of three vehicles. Their headlights illuminated the path toward the bridge over the canal. Lieutenant Bromista, wearing full battle armor, was in the turret of the lead APC.

They slowed on the approach to the construction area.

“What’s going on?” Rodger asked.

Bromista responded in Spanish, and Rodger checked his translator. Something about the scouts discovering something outside the boatyard.

Rodger motioned for Yejun to stay.

“He come,” Bromista said.

“Fine,” Rodger replied.

They climbed into the back of the second APC and pulled away from the construction zone, heading over the bridge toward the ruins of Panama City. The convoy set off across a darkened terrain devoid of any visible life.

A single deer with antlers stood across the field, staring at them with its three eyes before bolting away into the darkness.

The trucks turned left down a dirt road leading to the former industrial zone, where cranes once offloaded thousands of containers from ships that brought goods from all corners of the world.

One of the outpost construction crews was working here now, stacking new crates that could be salvaged and used for transport. The convoy stopped in front of the neatly organized rows, where two soldiers with spears waited.

Rodger hopped out the back with Yejun and followed Lieutenant Bromista and six more warriors through the maze of containers to an area not far from the canal. Portable battery-powered lamps lit up a platform near the canal.

The bank of dirt had caved in partially, skidding into the water. Rodger walked over to the top, looking down over an excavation site. This wasn’t the shell of a breeder or its spawn. They had discovered human remains.

He turned to Yejun.

Now Rodger knew why Bromista wanted the kid here.

Yejun slid down the side of the bank before Rodger could stop him. He followed carefully with his prosthetic foot.

By the time he got down to the site, Yejun was already leaning down toward a rib cage with vines twisted around the bones. From what Rodger could see, the vines were hardened and long dead.

Bromista pointed and spoke in rapid-fire Spanish, wanting to know if these were Yejun’s people.

“Yejun,” Rodger said to get his attention.

The young man looked back, and Rodger used the translator to ask the question. The unfamiliar Korean syllables took him a moment, but Yejun got it and shook his head.

“No?” Bromista asked.

Rodger asked again, and Yejun replied that the bones were too old.

“Then who are these people?” Bromista asked in Spanish.

Rodger found the construction worker in charge, a sky person named Joshua, who was assigned to the salvage team but was once a science teacher on the ITC Victory.

“Joshua, over here,” Rodger said.

The man skirted over carefully.

“You got any idea who these bones could belong to?” Rodger asked. “Maybe soldiers stationed here before the war?”

“That was my guess at first, based on the condition of their remains, but check this out,” Joshua said. He started down the slope toward a skeleton that was mostly intact. He pulled out his knife and bent down.

“Look,” Joshua said, holding up a jaw.

Rodger crouched and saw the sharpened teeth.

“Cazadores,” he said.

“Maybe these were part of the other ship that came here and disappeared,” Joshua said.

“The Sea Sprite,” Rodger recalled. “That can’t be. King Xavier discovered the ship in Australia.”

“Okay, but maybe some of them died here, or perhaps a crew from long ago that isn’t in the logs.”

“Maybe . . .”

Bromista inspected the other remains one by one and then commanded the workers in Spanish to remove them and prepare their brothers for final rites. He climbed up the hill, struggling on his new prosthetic legs.

Rodger called Yejun, and they returned to one of the trucks. This time, they rode with Bromista, who elected to stay inside the APC. He stared at Yejun, clearly distrusting the kid. For now, the lieutenant didn’t ask any further questions. But it was clear to Rodger the questions would be coming soon enough.

By the time they got back to the bridge, the radio crackled with a message in Spanish, but Rodger recognized radiación and pico, the word for spike.

A second message came from the radio.

“Director Mintel, this is Joshua. Those vines are retracting into the hill.”

“The vines?” Rodger asked.

“Yes, sir, those hard, dead vines wrapped around some of the bones—they retracted as soon as we started moving them.”

Rodger narrowed his eyes. “Be careful with those things,” he said.

“Copy that.”

Instead of going back to the dig site, Rodger and Yejun returned to the bunker and went with Lieutenant Bromista to the command room. The space was alive with activity, officers and soldiers attending to the different monitors. Facing one of the drone screens was the comms officer, Ancla. The Cazador soldier with an anchor tattoo on her neck.

Two more officers spoke in Spanish as they monitored the seismograph charting new tremors.

Rodger was learning the language as fast as he could so he wouldn’t have to rely on his translator, but they were talking too fast. He hovered behind them, watching the device while they spoke.

Finally, he went to a map. The spike was coming from the center of the city, forking like a blood vessel. The drone followed it.

“Something,” Rodger said. “Something is causing it.”

He turned to Yejun, but the youngster simply watched the crews working.

Rodger looked at the radiation readings as they spiked outward from the city. He traced his finger down the digital map to the canal, right where they had found the bodies.

“Vines,” he said. “The radiation is traveling through the vines.”

He turned back to the officers.

“Get those crews out of there,” Rodger said. “Pull everyone back to the outpost now!”

“¿Qué? ” Bromista said.

Rodger bumped on the channel to Joshua, relaying the order. Static crackled over his headset, and he raised his translator to explain to the lieutenant what he believed was happening.

Bromista raised a skeptical brow.

“Lieutenant, get your people out of there!” Rodger yelled.

Bromista finally turned to Ancla and gave the order.

All around the room, staff spoke rapidly in Spanish over the chirp of machines, the crackle of the radio, and the hum of the seismograph.

Rodger tried Joshua again, who finally answered.

“Copy that, sir,” he said. “We’re heading back to the vehicles now.”

The radiation spikes continued until the convoy reported they were on the way. Then, only a minute later, the room went quiet. The chirping machines and even the seismograph stopped.

Ancla looked up from her monitor. “Radiation spike is fading,” she reported.

Rodger put on his helmet and returned topside to see his workers and the soldiers hopping out of the two vehicles.

Joshua was at the back of the pack and walked over to Rodger.

“What in the hell happened out there?” he asked.

“Those vines,” Joshua said. “They weren’t dead. They just started to move. One of them grabbed Ernesto, but those soldiers hacked it off him.”

“What happened then?”

“They started pulsating, red and purple. Never seen nothin’ like it before, sir.”

Rodger nodded. “Glad you guys are okay. Go get some rest.”

Rodger noticed Yejun standing on a container, looking out over the city. He decided to join the youngster and climbed up.

Lightning forked over the canal, the bridge, and the industrial zone beyond. Something was out there—a mystery that only Yejun seemed to understand.

The radio hissed in Rodger’s helmet.

“Director Mintel, this is Corporal Ancla. We just got a message from the airship Vanguard.”

Static.

“What’s the message?” he asked.

“It’s from Commander Katib, sir, marked for your ears only.”

sixteen

Twelve years ago . . .

The mechanical joints of the machines clanked in lockstep.

The rumors about the end of the world were true. It was the machines that had destroyed civilization and all but wiped out humanity. And now they had all but wiped out the passengers of the ITC Victory.

Kade fastened the dust mask on his face as they trudged toward the walls of the camp. A storm was brewing on the horizon, and the wind was already picking up, gusting against the ten other prisoners and Kade.

They all wore tattered clothing that exposed their flesh to the elements. Kade remembered finding only faint traces of toxins on the dive two weeks ago with Johnny, right before the machines blew both Johnny and the airship out of the sky. But it wouldn’t take much to make these people sick. Every one of them was starving and dehydrated. Most of them had a deep cough. Probably pneumonia.

Kade was one of the strongest, but that wasn’t saying much. Every bone and muscle hurt.

Four of the defector machines marched the group toward the wall with laser rifles trained on their backs. A drone fired overhead and buzzed away toward the storm clouds.

“Are they going to kill us?” someone asked.

Head down, Kade didn’t see who had asked. The voice didn’t sound familiar anyway and was probably a survivor from one of the other airships. The ITC Victory wasn’t the only one that had fallen for the promise of salvation.

Passengers from two other airships, the ITC Requiem and the ITC Malenkov, had also traveled here. Both ships had landed years ago, and there was no telling if others had come before. The camp was a sprawling affair, with other buildings that could be holding prisoners.

Kade still didn’t know what had happened to his sons, only that his wife never made it out of the ship after it crashed. He also wasn’t sure what had happened to Tia.

The pain from the losses was raw and he was still coming to grips with it. But there was still a hint of hope that his boys had somehow survived and were being held with other children elsewhere, since the building he was in seemed to have only middle-aged people.

The defectors walked them through the camp, passing those other buildings, which seemed dormant. Kade glanced up only for a moment to check the windows, but no faces looked back from behind the cracked glass.

They continued down a path toward the factories, where he had seen other people taken over the past few days.

A robotic voice called out behind them.

“Running will result in death,” said one of the machines. “There is no hope for escape.”

“No one has ever escaped,” said another unit.

Kade kept his head low as they approached the gates.

They creaked open to the desert wind blasting in. Grit peppered Kade’s goggles as he glanced up.

A defector unit moved in front of him, turned, and started down the winding road.

“Move,” said another machine.

“They’re going to kill us,” someone said.

“Shut up,” came another voice.

Kade glanced over. It was Carl Lex, the former chief engineer.

The sun beat down on the group through the thin haze of clouds. Kade squinted and brought a hand up to shield his weak eyes. Two weeks after being captured, he still wasn’t used to the glare of this dazzling orb that he had never seen in his entire life.

He stumbled onward, staring out over the valley where he had first landed with Johnny. Trees and bushes grew out of the dirt, their roots sucking what moisture they could from the cracked soil.

A lizard emerged from one of those cracks to look at the approaching group. The lead defector raised a rifle at the small creature, then apparently decided it wasn’t worth the ammunition.

Kade subtly checked on the other machines. They, too, were moving out to give the group a wide berth. The other people seemed to notice it as well.

Another drone fired overhead, reflecting the sunlight off its metal fuselage.

“Kade,” Carl said.

“What?”

Kade kept his eyes forward, then turned at another voice.

“Kade, we need you.”

It was Joey, the seventeen-year-old Hell Diver apprentice.

“Kade,” Joey said again.

“What?”

Joey stepped up beside him with Carl.

“Where do you think they’re taking us?” Joey asked.

“I don’t know,” Kade replied.

“If they’re going to shoot us, I’m gonna run.”

“You won’t get far.”

“We have to be smart,” Carl said.

“Yeah,” Joey agreed.

“Then do what they say,” Kade said. “If they want to kill us, there’s nothing we can do to stop that.”

Only silence met his answer, and the group trekked on across the plains until they came to a creek, where the lead machine stopped.

“Drink,” it instructed.

“That water could kill us,” Joey said.

“Drink,” the machine said, raising its rifle.

“It’s okay,” Kade said. “We tested it when we landed.”

The group suddenly surged around him, practically charging to get down to the stream. Joey was the first one there, going down on both knees and sticking his head in like an animal at a trough.

Kade made his way down slowly, watching the machines, half expecting them to murder everyone right here.

But they didn’t, and when the group finished drinking, they marched on.

The storm clouds passed, and the sun broke through the haze, blasting the survivors with its rays. Everyone put their hands up to shield their eyes.

Kade didn’t see their destination until they were almost there.

“Stop,” said one of the machines.

Squinting, he stared at the frame of an airship. Not just any airship—this was the ITC Victory.

The wind gusted, whipping the prisoners’ clothes. Kade halted to stare at the hull of his former home.

The roof was mostly still intact, but the starboard side was charred, leaving only the aluminum framework. The front of the airship had taken the least damage.

Kade halted when he saw the first corpse. It was on the outskirts of the wreck, near the tail. Drifted sand covered much of the body, but the decomposed face was still leering up out of the ground.

He hardly recognized the face of Jane, a middle-aged woman who had worked as an engineer. Both her eyes were already gone, and scavenger beetles crawled over her face.

The machine leading the group halted right behind her corpse.

“Recover the following items,” it said. “Food, clothing, medicine.”

Kade narrowed his eyes at the war machine.

The thing had brought them here to scavenge?

Why now, four weeks after the crash?

Unless the machines were running out of food and other things and needed more to keep their prisoners alive.

“Any attempt to smuggle weapons will result in death,” said a unit behind the group.

“Any attempt to escape will result in death,” said another.

“Move,” said the lead unit.

Kade fanned out with the group, his heart thumping like a drum. The past month, he had started to feel numb, as if nothing mattered, as hope of finding his sons slipped away with each passing day. But now he could finally find the truth about their fate.

The prisoners started in the back of the airship, entering through a jagged opening where the hull peeled back like a banana skin. Sunlight streamed inside, illuminating charred remains of an electrical passage.

Twisted conduits snaked across the deck, walls, and overhead. Kade was the first to find a hatch that opened to a larger hallway. Sun came through the broken windows at the end, lighting the hatches to personal quarters once shared by families like his.

There was no sign of bodies here, which made sense. Even if they had little warning about the attack, everyone would have been in their assigned shelters.

“Everyone, move out and look for clothing and food,” Carl said. “Joey, come with me. Kade, you should, too.”

Kade wanted to tell him to fuck off, but he kept quiet when a defector climbed into the passage. Its metal limbs cranked as it rose to its full height of six feet.

“Keep moving,” it said in its robotic voice.

The prisoners did just that, walking off through the dimly lit passage. Kade tried to keep calm, but his only thought was to find where his family had sheltered. He was a bit turned around, but it shouldn’t be too far. One deck up, and a few passages over.

Clanking metal shadowed the group as the machine followed.

The prisoners scoured the personal quarters for an hour, pulling clothing and some unspoiled rations. A man from another airship, with greasy gray hair around his bald crown, tore into a piece of jerky. The sight attracted the attention of a younger female prisoner, who tried to rip it from his hands.

“Hey! I found that. It’s mine!” the man shouted.

“Give me some,” she said, tearing off a chunk.

He swung at her as she pulled it away, hitting her in the nose and knocking her to the ground. Then he kicked her in the stomach.

Kade rushed over and got between them.

“What the fuck, mate!” he said, pushing the man back. Anger boiled in his veins as the man continued chewing and eyeing the woman with crazed eyes.

The defector unit strode over behind them, heavy feet clanking on the deck.

It suddenly raised its laser rifle and fired a bolt directly at Kade. He didn’t have time to react or even scream.

A moment passed before he realized he didn’t feel any pain. When he looked down, he didn’t see a simmering hole in his body, either.

Almost two seconds passed before something thumped to the deck.

Now he understood. The man who had hit the woman lay sprawled on the ground, a glowing hole in his chest.

“Violence will not be tolerated and is punished by death,” said the machine.

It promptly turned and walked toward a group of three prisoners who had gathered to watch. Joey and Carl were among them. Both moved out of the way for the machine to pass.

Kade reached down to help the injured woman up, but she scrambled over to the dead man, ripping the jerky from his hand.

She glanced up at Kade and tore the stick in two.

“Here,” she said, handing him the smaller piece. Though his stomach growled, he declined.

“You eat it,” he said.

Kade walked away and continued the search with the other prisoners. But unlike them, he didn’t care about finding a stick of jerky or dried fruit.

He was looking for his family.

* * * * *

Present day

Kade Long woke to an electronic screech.

He blinked in darkness. The dream from the day he trekked back to the downed airship lingered in his thoughts, but he knew he wasn’t back there.

Lightning captured skeletal branches and vines from mutant trees hanging outside the windows of the APC. The flashes faded, leaving him in darkness.

Realization snapped him alert. His HUD was down.

He tried the comms, but they crackled, offline. The storm was interfering, even here on the ground.

Kade cursed and gritted his teeth as he struggled to free himself from the seat. It took a moment to notice he was upside down.

“Well, dingo shit on a buttered shingle!” he growled.

Reaching up, he turned on his headlamps, lighting the metal floor of the vehicle. At least those worked.

He managed to turn his helmet to the side. Gran Jefe was hanging from his seat, unconscious or dead.

Kade pushed the harness button and fell to the floor on his shoulder. He got up on his knees and looked into the back of the APC.

Sofia and Tia were both coming to in their seats.

“You guys okay?” Kade asked.

“Yeah,” Sofia said.

Kade crawled over to Gran Jefe. The big man suddenly jerked and grabbed Kade around the throat.

Tia dropped down from her harness and scrambled over to help.

“Mate,” Kade choked out.

Gran Jefe tightened his grip on his neck.

“Stop,” Kade stammered. “It’s me . . .”

Tia hit Gran Jefe’s arm, drawing his attention. He looked at her, then back to Kade, before abruptly releasing him.

Kade slumped to the deck, holding his neck armor as he sucked in air.

“Lo siento,” Gran Jefe said. “Sorry. ¿Dónde estamos? ”

“Are you okay?” Tia asked.

She bent down next to Kade, who nodded at her. He pushed himself up to look out the viewports. Using the glow of the massive storm, he could see that the truck had opened a window through the canopy, crushing limbs of sturdy trees.

“Comms and optics are down,” Sofia said.

“So we have no way of contacting Team Raptor?” Tia asked.

Kade cursed as he raised his wrist computer. His life support system was online, but Sofia was right about the comms and optics. The storm was likely messing with some of their electronics.

“Check your suits and grab your weapons,” Kade ordered.

Scanning the divers’ wrist computers, he made sure each had a fully operational suit, then opened the rear hatch.

“Ready?” he asked.

Three nods.

“Keep your eyes peeled.”

Kade opened the rear hatch and climbed out onto the dirt. There was no need for his night-vision optics out here. The constant flash of lightning provided a strobing view of another toxic jungle.

Over the thunder came a rustling, crunching noise, like a snake crawling through a bed of leaves.

Kade glanced up at the big purple-and-red trees stretching toward the sky, towering at least a hundred feet overhead. The APC had come crashing down between two of them, snapping off the upper branches like calorie-infused herb sticks.

Tentacles of red vines snaked across the ground, and bushes unlike any he had ever seen before rose from the radioactive dirt, their branches twisting into knobs that must be some sort of massive spore sacs.

He checked his wrist computer to see if the Geiger counter was working. A touch of the screen brought up the scan.

The fact that it worked brought no relief when he saw the reading.

“Mother of God,” Kade said.

The radiation was extremely high, and the air contained multiple toxins.

Sofia leaned down to look at his monitor. “Damn,” she said softly.

The rustling noise seemed to be getting louder in the respite between thunderclaps.

“You guys hear that?” he asked.

“Yeah, what is it?” Tia said in a panicked voice.

Kade went to the back of the truck to check on the diesel fuel cans. One of the tanks was damaged from the fall and had already emptied into the dirt.

He got down on one knee to look at the roof. The .50-caliber machine gun in the enclosed turret was damaged, but it was the box unit housing their satellite and beacon that had taken the worst of the landing. The entire unit was crushed.

“Bloody hell, we lost the long-range locator beacon,” he said.

“What’s that mean?” Tia asked.

Kade was afraid to say.

“Commander,” Tia said.

“It means Captain Rolo might think we’re dead and won’t know where we are. Same with Team Raptor.”

“So we’re basically blind and deaf down here and no one knows where we are?” Sofia asked.

“Yeah, something like that,” Kade replied.

It wasn’t entirely true. They could still see, but they had to use their flashlights. The problem with that was twofold: battery depletion, and drawing unwanted attention to their location.

Gran Jefe didn’t respond. He was standing next to a tree, his rifle aimed up into the jungle.

“You see something?” Kade asked.

“Monstruos,” Gran Jefe whispered back. He pointed two fingers to his eyes. “They watch us.”

Kade scanned the trees in the lightning glow but saw nothing.

“Where?” he asked.

Gran Jefe pointed at the sky.

Looking up, Kade spotted through gaps in the canopy a winged beast wheeling high above them. He saw another. These were the largest birds, if one could call them such, that Kade had seen in his life.

“They have armor or something,” Sofia said.

Kade zoomed in with his rifle scope on one that sailed over them. Sure enough, the body was covered in yellow scales that ran up the elongated neck and over the feathered head.

A curved beak jutted from a face with large oval eyes, reminding Kade more of a fly than a bird. The scaled wings beat the air, and Kade understood the rustling noise he kept hearing.

He said, “Let’s try and get the truck upright and running. Gran Jefe, you help me. Tia, Sofia, you’re on security.”

Gran Jefe followed him back to the APC.

Every few minutes, Kade stopped to listen for the rustling, which continued in the distance. The birds were definitely watching them, as Gran Jefe had said.

Sweat dripped as Kade jacked up one side of the APC. When he got it as high as it would safely go, he motioned for Sofia, who had a rifle trained on the birds.

“Grab some of the poles,” he said.

She slung her rifle and ran over to the other side to retrieve the hydraulic winches. Kade jammed the jacks under the roof in two locations. Then he and Gran Jefe grabbed the steel poles that were normally used to create a bridge crossing. They worked the four poles under the vehicle.

“Tia, we need you,” Kade said.

The team all got on the poles and pushed down, levering the twelve-ton vehicle up and up.

“Almost there,” Kade said.

The APC creaked and finally thudded onto its side.

Kade and the rest of the team swung their weapons up at the skyline, expecting the noise to attract the huge birds wheeling above, but they just continued their lazy circling.

“Okay, one more time,” Kade said.

And the four divers got the poles back under the side and levered in concert, and the APC bounced onto its wheels.

“We got it,” Sofia said excitedly.

“Nice work,” Kade said.

The rustling noise grew louder, and Kade noticed a spike in toxins on his wrist computer.

“So what do we do now?” Tia asked.

“We find Team Raptor,” Kade said. “Sofia, crank it up.”

Sofia got back into the APC with Tia, but Gran Jefe hesitated outside.

“What?” Kade asked him.

This time, the big Cazador turned to the jungle, raising his rifle and scanning back and forth.

Kade didn’t see anything, but he heard the rustling again.

Sofia turned on the engine, the rumble echoing through the jungle. Over the engine noise came the same rustling, which morphed into a scraping sound like sandpaper.

Gran Jefe backed away toward the vehicle.

“Go,” he said quietly.

Kade didn’t need to be told twice.

He climbed into the front passenger side and locked the door after Gran Jefe was inside.

Even from inside the armored vehicle, they could hear the scraping and rustling outside.

“What is that sound?” Sofia asked.

“We’re not sticking around to find out,” Kade said. “Switch seats with me.”

He got behind the wheel and turned on the headlights. The beams pierced the darkness, revealing nothing but trees and vegetation.

Kade started driving through the jungle. The trees were spaced out enough that the only obstacles were their thick buttress roots and the strange bushes. Their pale spore sacs burst under the tires and against the grill guard.

The tires thumped over a crisscrossing network of exposed roots. Gran Jefe moved from one viewport to the next in back with Tia, who was also scanning the jungle.

“Can we go faster?” Sofia asked.

“Yeah, but . . .” Kade started to reply.

A spore sac popped against the hood, peppering it with fluid that hissed on contact. The toxin readings spiked again.

Kade pulled around the bushes but clipped another branch lined with mushroom caps. He turned the wheel to avoid another overhang of branches but slammed into a stump he didn’t see until it was too late. The impact jerked them to a stop.

The scraping in the distance turned to a whooshing, like rapids in a river.

Kade put the vehicle in reverse but then saw something in the rearview mirrors.

“In front of us!” Sofia yelled.

“What is that?” Tia shouted.

Heart thrumming, Kade watched in horror as vines and branches came scrabbling across the jungle floor, surrounding the APC with barbed creepers and the whitish, almost translucent sacs of spores.

Kade spun the wheel and skirted around the stump, but there was nowhere to go. Another wall of vegetation surged forward.

It was as if the entire mutant jungle had just decided to go walkabout.

A toxin warning flashed on his wrist computer. “Seek shelter,” it read. “Dangerous toxin levels present.”

Kade braced as the vines slammed into the hull, jolting them. Barbed vines and roots snaked over the viewports, the rustling and scraping noise echoing inside.

“Everyone, stay calm,” Kade said, gripping the wheel as the truck jostled. “This vehicle was designed to protect from all sorts of toxins and radiation.”

In moments, the flora had enveloped the vehicle, squeezing so that the structural metal groaned in response. Spore casings burst on the glass, hissing.

Kade swallowed hard.

They were safe for now, but at some point, the jungle was going to find a way in.

He had to do something, and quickly, or they were all going to die inside this armored coffin.

seventeen

Shortly before midnight, a chorus of yapping and barking broke out. A dingo yowl answered.

X awoke in his red dome tent, pitched at the base of the lighthouse. He reached instinctively for Miles, then remembered.

His dog was still on the Frog.

Deep down, X felt some relief knowing that Miles was in good hands, but he also missed having his companion next to him.

X sat up and rubbed his head. He was dressed in his radiation suit but had taken off his heavy armor to try to get comfortable. A pad and blanket provided just enough cushion on the ground to keep his back from aching too bad.

The dingos continued for a few more minutes but stopped abruptly, like a water faucet shutting off.

A howl filled the void. This was no dingo, but X didn’t recognize the alien beast.

Someone outside the tent called his name.

X unzipped the tent to find Lieutenant Slayer outside, in full armor.

“King Xavier, the animal you requested is here,” he said.

“Ah, so that’s who’s doing the howling.”

“Yes, sir, she is agitated.”

X strapped his armor back on. When he finished, he grabbed his duty belt with the axe he had used to take on the beasts that the Cazadores were now calling “cíclopes ” for their single eye.

Cinching his belt, X walked outside.

An electric fence had been strung up around the camp and lighthouse, and now ten of the igloo-shaped red tents sat within the border, along with a cube that served as a shit can.

The radiation here was minimal, but they weren’t taking any risks during what could be a long stay.

Guards patrolled the perimeter, and a sniper was perched in the lighthouse.

Slayer walked over to the bluff on the ocean side, where three Cazador soldiers were trekking up the path, holding chains. From behind them, a howl pierced the night.

“They have her chained up?” X asked.

“Yes, I’m sorry, sir, but . . .”

X bolted down the slope before Slayer could respond.

“Jo-Jo,” X said.

The monkey stopped pulling on the chains and looked at him.

“It’s okay,” X said. He motioned for the soldiers to drop the chains. They all hesitated until Slayer gave the order in Spanish.

X walked over to Jo-Jo with his hands up.

When he got a few feet away, the animal grunted. Easily twice his size, she could rip his head off if she wanted. It didn’t surprise him that the soldiers were leery of her, but she was a peaceful monkey.

X gently reached up to unlock her collar, hoping she wouldn’t flee. The soldiers backed up a few steps. One of them handed X the remote control that Ada had used to train the monkey.

He took the small device in hand. It had a variety of functions that allowed them to track the animal by the chip under her skin, as well as shock her if she got out of control. The chains, he felt, were overkill.

“Okay, I’m going to let you go now,” X said. “Please don’t run.”

Jo-Jo tilted her head and looked at the device. She knew exactly what it was.

X unlocked the chains to her harness but left the harness around her neck. The chains hit the dirt.

She went down on her front knuckles and let out a huff of what sounded like relief.

X patted the front of his thigh, as he had seen Ada do many times.

And to his relief, Jo-Jo started to follow him up the trail back to the camp. He kept the control in hand just in case, hoping he wouldn’t have to use it.

“Have your men get her some water, food, and a blanket,” X said to Slayer. “She can stay in my tent, but make sure she doesn’t run off.”

“Yes, sir.”

X led the monkey into the camp. She stayed by his side, scanning the darkness with her night-vision eyes. When he got to his tent, he unzipped the flap and motioned her inside.

“Go ahead, it’s okay,” he said.

Jo-Jo looked into the tent and backed away. She sat down in the dirt outside.

“Okay, suit yourself,” X said. “But stay right here.”

He pointed to the ground.

Jo-Jo remained sitting as he walked over to the command tent. Just before entering, he checked to make sure she was obeying, and there she sat, eyes on X.

He set the control device to “Active,” meaning it would beep if she moved from her position. Two guards hurried over to watch Jo-Jo. Satisfied, X went inside the command tent.

General Forge stood at a table, his eye glued to a map. Two more tables were set with monitors and radio equipment.

“Buenas noches, mi general,” X said.

“Buenas noches, mi rey,” Forge replied.

Slayer joined them a few minutes later.

“Jo-Jo is eating and drinking,” he said.

“Thank you,” X said.

They went over to the table with monitors, where an officer sat in front of the drone footage. He spoke in Spanish, shaking his head.

“We lost the hostile, but my scouts think it was some sort of mammal,” Slayer said. “Perhaps a big cat, or maybe a monkey.”

“Have we found anything else?”

“We’ve had a drone following the cyclopes for the past two hours. They seem to use the waterways to move, as you suspected.”

X took a look, then went straight to the radio equipment. “Have we established a line with Captain Rolo yet?”

“Yes, sir. He reported a successful drop but has no word on the divers yet.”

X thought of them. They would be in Brisbane about now, probably on the ground in the APCs.

“Sir, there is chow if you’d like some,” said General Forge.

“Okay, muchas gracias,” X replied.

He and the general left the command center. They went inside the galley, where a pot of fish stew simmered over a stove that vented the smoke through a pipe at the top of the cubical tent. They had brought the frozen fish with them on the journey, and X was looking forward to the hot meal that was almost ready.

Sitting on a table were a metal pot of coffee, several ewers of wine, and jugs of water.

“¿Café, señor?” Forge asked.

“Sí, gracias,” X said.

Forge poured them each a small cup of the luxurious brew. X sat on a crate and sipped.

“Gracias,” he said.

“De nada.”

The general sat and took a drink. His scarred features tightened with each sip.

“The Immortal has gained some time,” Forge said. “She is muy rápido.”

“Good news.”

X was anxious for the vessel to arrive with the rest of their warriors and ammunition. In the meantime, he had to hold this place down while the divers searched for the ITC facility in Brisbane.

He thought of the heroes in the sky again. The more he did, the more he questioned his orders to send them to the radiation-rich environment.

Maybe he should have sent soldiers with them.

Or maybe you should have gone, too.

His thoughts shifted to the Vanguard Islands, where Michael faced the challenge of growing unrest and a divided population.

Every day that passed without finding food put the future of the islands at greater risk.

“You appear troubled tonight, King Xavier,” said General Forge. “What burdens you?”

“What doesn’t burden me?” X smirked.

“You must let go of the souls we have lost. You must think of the souls we are still trying to save.”

“You reading my mind?”

Forge sipped his coffee. “I know your troubles because I share them.”

The general’s eye flitted to the ground. His mind, too, seemed burdened.

“I lose many men under my command in the years,” Forge said. “I lose my daughter, too, although not to death.”

“You have a daughter? Honestly, I did not even know you ever married.”

“I never married the woman who bore my child.”

X held his cup up to his lips and listened.

“The mother of my daughter die a long time ago, and my daughter blame me,” Forge said. “She has not speak to me since.”

He looked at the crackling fire.

“She died on a raid that I commanded,” Forge clarified.

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

He thought of Katrina, the former Hell Diver and captain of the Hive, who had also died in battle. A woman he had loved.

Slayer entered the tent. “King Xavier, General,” he said. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but the scouts have reported back in with no hostiles in the general vicinity.”

“Excelente,” Forge said.

Slayer turned back to the door, but X called out to him.

“Hungry, Lieutenant?”

“I’m on duty, sir,” he said.

“You have to eat, don’t you?”

“Yes, and that stew smells damn good.” Slayer smiled and pulled up a crate.

“I think it’s ready now,” X said, opening the lid and giving it a stir.

X scooped out bowls for the two soldiers.

“The more I think about it, the more I am wondering if these knights were some sort of protectors,” X said. “Perhaps they were war survivors who brought people here, like the traveler the Cazador raiding team grabbed in Colón.”

“Or perhaps they lured them here to eat them,” Slayer said. “My people did the same thing to Sirens, attracting them with lighthouses.”

X remembered the lighthouses. Was it possible the Cazadores got the idea from these people?

He had so many questions and, so far, no answers.

“What do you think, General?” X asked.

“I agree with Slayer,” he said. “In all my campaigns, we never find a place like the Coral Castle. The only salvation is the Metal . . . Vanguard Islands, sir.”

X nodded. The Cazadores were probably right.

Still, they hadn’t come all this way for nothing, and he was determined to unravel the tangled mysteries hidden along the Sunshine Coast.

A trumpeting cry rang across the wastes, bringing everyone to their feet.

Slayer turned on his radio. “Barracuda Two, this is Barracuda Actual, do you copy?”

He tried again. Still, no response.

X reached for his blaster.

“Barracuda Actual, this is Barracuda Two,” hissed a response over the squad comm.

“God damn, you had me spooked there for a second, Barracuda Two,” Slayer replied. “You got eyes on anything?”

“Negative, Lieutenant, the perimeter of the camp is secure. The cyclopes are nowhere close.”

Slayer checked with X. “You want us to send out a patrol?”

“No. Let it come to us if it wants a fight. We’ll make it earn its dinner. It’ll be expensive.”

The men sat back down to eat. X considered returning to his tent for some sleep, but the coffee was going to keep him awake, and he missed Miles.

“I’m going to check something out,” he said.

“I’ll deploy guards,” Slayer said.

“No, I’m fine. Just heading to check on Jo-Jo and going to the lighthouse.”

X thanked General Forge and Slayer for their company, then headed out into the night. Jo-Jo was snoring loudly outside his tent.

He decided not to bother her and passed the guards watching over her. Another guard stood outside the entrance to the lighthouse.

X ducked through the open door. Fueled by the coffee, he pounded up the spiral stairs to the top.

In the lookout, a female Cazador sniper held sentry.

“King Xavier,” she said.

“Carry on,” X replied. “Just here to look at this.”

X bent down to study the fallen knight’s armor again. It was clear what had killed him, but X wondered what this man had seen in his lifetime before his final moments of terror.

He stood and looked out over the beaches, then out to sea, where the Frog was anchored. Lost in thought, he stood listening to the surf.

Footsteps echoed up the stairs, snapping him alert. Lieutenant Slayer hurried inside.

“Sir, one of our drones found something while searching for hostiles,” he said. “Take a look at this.”

He held up a tablet with an image of a fortress.

“It looks something like a castle,” X said.

“Exactly, sir. That’s why I thought you should see this. They called it the Sunshine Castle.”

“Where is it?”

“Just up the Maroochy River, not far from the bridge where we hid in those tanks.”

“You got to be kidding me,” X said.

“No, sir.”

X looked out the broken windows. He knew he should wait for the Immortal to get here, but he had to check this out.

“Get your men and convoy ready to go,” X said. “We move out first thing in the morning with Jo-Jo, to find this Sunshine Castle.”

* * * * *

The APC rumbled across the decayed highway, headlights spearing the darkness as Magnolia drove carefully down the remains of the old road.

Edgar stood in the APC’s enclosed turret, watching for hostiles with the .50-caliber machine gun. Arlo was up front with Magnolia now, monitoring the screens and data from their sensors.

There wasn’t much left of the two-lane highway, but the toxic jungle hadn’t overgrown it entirely, which afforded them a rough path to search for Team Wrangler.

Magnolia hoped she could find the general area from what she remembered before the beacon went offline. With the comms down and their individual beacons offline, it was a shot in the dark.

Team Wrangler could have landed anywhere, and it would be almost impossible to find them in that jungle. They would need some luck today.

“Radiation’s getting higher,” Arlo said.

She took her eyes off the road for a second to check. He was right; it was increasing as they got closer to Brisbane. She still couldn’t see the ruined city through the thick jungle.

Edgar directed a mounted spotlight toward six-foot mushrooms growing along the ditch. Some had sprouted through the broken hulls of vehicles pushed off to the side.

“This is an entirely new ecosystem,” Magnolia said.

Of all the dives in her lifetime, this won the award for highest rads. But that was part of the reason they had come here with the NBC vehicles to protect them. It was their chance at finding supplies at a location that was never raided before.

It also meant they could run into new beasts that had adapted to live here, although she didn’t know how that was possible. She hoped nothing had survived out here.

As if in answer, Edgar reported movement in the jungle. “Three o’clock,” he said. “I think I saw something.”

Arlo leaned closer to the viewport. “Something? Describe ‘something.’ ”

“I don’t know.”

Magnolia squinted, scanning the jungle on the right side of the vehicle. The headlights illuminated the thick trees at the edge but didn’t penetrate much beyond the first few trunks.

If there was something out there, it could probably see them, but they couldn’t see it.

She turned off the lights and put the vehicle in park.

“What are you doing?” Arlo asked.

“Getting my bearings,” Magnolia replied. Tapping the monitor on the dash, she pulled up their location. They were eight miles from their target in Brisbane.

If she was correct, Team Wrangler had landed on the other side of the reservoir. According to the map on the screen, the road would take them around the body of water.

She put the truck back in gear and turned on the headlights.

“What-the-holy-fucking-shit!” she gasped. She was staring at a strangely thin man dressed in black, with bent skeletal limbs and bony fingers. He wore a top hat, of all things, and had to be ten feet tall.

Glowing white eyes stared back at her.

“The hell is that?”

“What?” Arlo asked. “I don’t see anything.”

She blinked, and the image resolved. Not a man at all—just a small tree with thin branches, and two white mushrooms growing out of the bark that looked like eyes.

She took in a deep breath, willing her heart to stay in her chest.

“Mags,” Arlo said.

“It’s nothing,” she said. “Our eyes are just playing tricks on us.”

She put her foot on the gas and continued down the road. A couple of charred auto frames blocked the lane ahead, forcing her over the median.

Tangled yellow bushes grew out of the dirt, scraping the hull with their thorns as she pulled across and into the other lane. She avoided a thick cluster of thicker plants that were topped with spore cases the size of oranges.

Magnolia slowed to look off into the jungle.

“You see something?” Arlo asked.

“Negative, and we’re wasting too much fuel.” Magnolia cursed. “We should be on our way to the ITC site.”

“Too bad we don’t have a drone.” Arlo looked out his viewport at the canopy. “A bird’s-eye view is what we need right now.”

“What about using a booster and then parachuting back down?” Edgar asked.

“Not with those big-ass birds out there,” Magnolia said.

“Look at this,” Arlo said, pointing to the digital map. “There’s a reservoir in the archives called North Pine Dam. There’s a headwall at one end—might have a good view of the area if we can get there.”

“Good call, Arlo. See? You are good for something. Who knew?”

A quarter mile down the road, the headlights hit another vehicle—a semi on its side. The cargo of textiles had spilled and rotted away long ago.

Not far ahead, the jungle had overgrown the broken asphalt. Clumps of mushrooms popped through the cracks, and the red-hued vines twisted over the pavement.

The APC drove over the vegetation without much resistance, snapping the dense stalks under its weight. Finally, the jungle thinned, opening up to a view of Lake Samsonvale.

Magnolia took the winding road to the top of the reservoir.

She spotted the lake in the distance. A sinking feeling formed in her gut that she didn’t want to say out loud. But she couldn’t help wondering if the other APC had fallen into the water.

Steam rose off the glassy surface, and the pitted rocks along the shore suggested some level of acidity.

Avoiding the large body of water would be easier for a person under the canopy, but not a twenty-five-thousand-pound vehicle. If the truck had come down in the lake, that would explain the lack of signals.

Magnolia shook away the thought. She pulled off on another road that climbed up on a hill toward North Pine Dam. For the next hour, they drove along the path, searching the vast jungle for Team Wrangler.

“I don’t see any live critters out here,” Edgar reported.

“At least that means there’s probably nothing out here about to eat us,” Arlo said.

“Don’t be so sure,” Magnolia said.

“Come on, what could live in this radiation?”

She pulled off the road at a rocky overlook and turned off the engine.

“Let’s take a look,” she said.

The team got out of the vehicle with their rifles. From atop the vertical headwall above the lake’s east end, they had a sprawling view of the reservoir, the jungle, and even the ruins of the town that once bordered the water.

Magnolia spent the next few minutes glassing the area and seeing nothing that wasn’t part of the toxic jungle. She searched the shore, hoping she had overlooked something.

“You guys see anything?” she asked.

“Nope,” Arlo said.

Edgar shook his head.

“What are we going to do?” Arlo asked.

After a few minutes of scanning, she lowered her scope, feeling the lump of dread in her gut. She was starting to think her theory about the lake was true.

She pulled a flare from her vest.

“I didn’t want to use one, but it might be the only way to tell them where we’re at if they are out there,” she said.

“Good way to tell everything else where we’re at, too,” Arlo said.

Magnolia thought for a moment, but there wasn’t a lot to consider. It was the only way to locate Team Wrangler.

She loaded the flare into her blaster and pointed at the clouds. “You two, get back in the vehicle.”

Edgar climbed into the turret, and Arlo got in on the passenger side as Magnolia fired off the flare. It burst under the flashing blue clouds to bloom outward over the jungle and lake.

Magnolia returned to the front seat and turned on the engine, driving to the railing to watch. The flare got no response.

In the waning light, a formation of three scaly yellow birds flapped across the sky to check out the flare. When it faded, they turned back toward the canopy.

Magnolia got out and fired another flare into the sky. Her heart sank as it burst and faded without a sign. She scoped the area one last time before all hope started to fade.

This was her fault. The order to deploy APCs was on her, and so were the deaths of the other divers.

Magnolia got back in and gripped the steering wheel as she felt herself fill with anger—something she hadn’t experienced in a long time. She pounded the wheel in a fit of rage.

“This isn’t your fault,” Arlo said. “You were given orders to check out a red zone, Commander. These trucks are the only way to survive out here.”

She stopped hitting the wheel and inhaled deeply.

“They could still be out there,” Arlo said. “Don’t give up hope, Mags. I’ve been written off for dead how many—”

“Hey, I think I see something,” Edgar said from the turret.

“Where?” Magnolia asked.

“Six o’clock. I think it’s a fire or something.”

She got out with Arlo and they belly-crawled to the ledge. Sure enough, about a mile to the east, not far from the lakeshore, she saw a glow.

Magnolia zoomed her binos in and saw streaks of fire through a hole in the jungle canopy.

“That’s a flamethrower,” she said.

“Yeah,” Edgar said.

“Send up a flare.”

Edgar unholstered his blaster and loaded a flare. He aimed it toward the glow and fired. A few seconds later, a flare fired vertically over the jungle in response.

“They’re alive!” Magnolia shouted. She wanted to jump for joy, but she steeled herself. There was a reason they were using a flamethrower.

She rushed back to the truck, Edgar following. Arlo remained, staring.

“Come on, Arlo!” she yelled. “Move it!”

He suddenly brought up his rifle and aimed it above her head.

Whirling, she turned just in time to see a single yellow-armored bird swooping down toward the APC, its ten-foot wings swept back. It cut through the air like a missile, opening its beak and squawking.

Magnolia brought up her rifle as it dived at her.

Three laser bolts flashed into the sky from her right. The hooked beak sheared away, along with part of a wing.

It pulled up, flapping away as Magnolia stood there in shock.

She had frozen up—something she never did.

A hand grabbed her and pulled her toward the truck. It was Arlo, and now he was the one telling her to move.

“Snap out of it, Mags!” he shouted. “We got Team Wrangler to save!”

eighteen

Michael opened his eyes in darkness, jolted awake by another nightmare about an attack on his family. It seemed to hit him every night now, and each time, the same armored knights came to their home to slay his family.

He still didn’t know why, or who these men were, but every time, the dream seemed so real. Tonight was the most extreme yet, and he suspected it was due to the stone that Oliver had given Layla.

Michael sat up, running a hand through his thick hair.

“The same dream?” Layla groaned.

“Yeah.”

Michael looked at the closed hatch. In the dream, it was ripped off its hinges, and the knights were pouring in with their axes and swords.

“It’s just a dream,” Layla said.

“I know, but . . . it seems so real every time.”

He swung his legs out of bed, only to feel Layla touch his arm.

“Don’t get up,” she said. “You need your sleep, Tin.”

“The sun will be up soon.”

He pulled gently away and crossed over to the cribs where Bray and Rhino Jr. slept peacefully.

Seeing them lying there in the moonlight streaming from the open window brought a fleeting sense of peace.

Still, he knew he wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep. It was already five, and he needed to be up in a half hour anyway. He spent that time modifying Cricket at his desk. The work helped keep his mind off all the worries, which was a good way to start the day. When he finished, he dressed quietly and put on his baseball cap.

Grabbing his pack and rifle, he went back to Layla to kiss her goodbye. She reached up as he leaned down, pushing his bill up so she could see his eyes.

“Please stay,” she said.

“I’ll try and be home early, okay?”

“Wait . . .” she said as he turned away. “How are you going to handle the opal?”

“I haven’t decided yet.”

She bit the inside of her lip—an old nervous tic.

“I haven’t dived in years, Michael, but I’m still the same person I was before I gave birth to Bray, maybe even stronger.”

“Definitely stronger. You know I think that of you.”

“But do you?”

“Of course I do.”

“Then you should also know I’m more than capable of helping you plan whatever you’re going to do.”

Michael sighed, seeing where this was going.

“Okay, tonight when I get home, we’ll talk.”

“Thank you.”

Michael finally left to find Victor in the hallway, wide awake.

“Good morning,” he said in his heavy accent.

“Good morning,” Michael replied.

Ton walked over from the other end of the passage. He took Victor’s seat, assigned once again to protect Layla and the kids.

“Thank you,” Michael said.

Ton nodded.

Yawning, Michael made his way down to the command center. Inside, Lieutenant Wynn slept with his head on the war table, next to a burning candle. The glow from computer monitors and radio equipment illuminated the wiry form of Pedro, who sat in front of the bank of electronics wearing a headset.

He turned and stood as Michael shut the door.

“Chief,” Pedro said.

Michael nodded. “Any word about the Hell Divers?”

“No, I moved location of drone, but the storms are . . . interferindo.”

Michael had hoped to have word from the king this morning.

“Keep trying,” he said.

Pedro turned back to the radios while Michael went to the war table to read the most recent reports from the rigs. Wynn rubbed his eyes, groaning.

“Is it morning already?” he asked.

“Yeah, almost sunrise,” Michael said. “Did you get any rest?”

“Maybe two hours. Better than none.”

Michael swiped his hair back from his face. It was getting long again. He put his Marine Corps hat on and took a seat and started reading the engineering logs on the monitor.

By the time he got through them, the first streak of orange raced across the horizon, enticing him over to the viewports.

But it wasn’t all sun this morning. Storm clouds chugged across the horizon, threatening to dump more rain on the rigs.

The door opened, and heavy boots clomped on the deck.

Steve walked in wearing his duty belt, with his green glasses hanging from the top buttonhole of his shirt. “Mornin’. Going to be a wet one.”

“Seems like we can’t get a break from this weather, but it beats the storms in the wastes,” Michael said. He returned to the table for Imulah’s briefing.

The scribe handed his clipboard to Michael.

“Any good news?”

“Some,” Imulah said.

Lieutenant Wynn, Pedro, Steve, and Imulah pulled up chairs around the table for the morning updates, which went about as Michael expected. Another batch of fish had come in contaminated during the night, there was a fight over rations on rig 4, and several rigs had engineering issues.

“There’s something not in the logs,” Imulah said. “Something we need to discuss immediately.”

Michael waited for it.

“As we all know, rumors are burning across the islands,” Imulah continued. “Rumors about the pescado—fish—rumors about a draft for the army, and rumors of a hidden food supply.”

He kept talking, but Michael had locked on that last part. Had someone betrayed him?

He looked back to Steve, who seemed to be avoiding his gaze. His gut clenched at the thought of his deputy leaking the confidential location of the food.

“Chief,” Imulah said.

Steve finally glanced up, his eyes flitting to meet Michael’s, who studied his deputy for a moment, searching for a tell.

“Chief Everhart, I would highly recommend that you call a council meeting, or make an announcement to quash these rumors,” Imulah said. “They will also want an update on the mission in the wastes.”

Michael paced in front of the windows.

“We don’t even know,” he said. “Not anything good, at least. Only that X hasn’t found the Coral Castle, and the Hell Divers were deployed to the most radioactive city in the history of diving.”

Imulah stroked the end of his beard as if considering his next words carefully. “For now, sir, the most important thing to do is put out the fires before they continue to spread.”

“I agree,” Steve said.

Michael looked to Pedro, who nodded, and finally to Lieutenant Wynn.

“We’re spread thin, Chief,” Wynn said. “A single uprising or major attack on any of the food depots would cause mass chaos. I simply don’t have the manpower to be everywhere we’re needed to keep the peace.”

Michael breathed in deeply and exhaled. He thought of Layla and the kids. This wasn’t just about protecting them anymore; it was about protecting people like Alton—innocents who were at the mercy of a society bordering on collapse.

“No council meeting yet,” Michael said. “And no announcements until we know who’s spreading these rumors. Although I have an idea . . .”

He gestured to Imulah. “Put the word out to your scribes to keep their ears open and document everything they hear about threats and rumors.”

Imulah looked as if he wanted to protest but then bowed in acknowledgment.

“Pedro, see if you can get a line open to the carrier Immortal, or the airship,” Michael said. “We have to know what’s going on out there.”

Finally, he told Steve, “Our job is to keep the power on. We can’t afford to have a single blackout right now. We also need to have all hands take longer shifts and shorter sleep breaks.”

“Agreed, Chief. I’ll make sure our people know, then get started on all the engineering issues in the logs.”

“Okay, let’s get it done,” Michael said.

Pedro returned to his readouts. Michael stood next to him, looking out over the water as the sun rose over the distant rigs. On the decks, people were already moving around, preparing for likely rain.

“What are they doing?” Pedro asked.

Michael grabbed binoculars from the windowsill and zoomed in at the marina of another rig. Fifty Cazadores had gathered around a half-naked man wearing an eagle mask with a yellow beak.

“Imulah, come here,” Michael said.

The scribe stepped up, and Michael handed him the binos.

“What are they doing?”

“I haven’t seen this for a long time,” said Imulah. “They are performing an ancient ritual to summon Sol, the god of the sun, to keep away the storms.”

Michael watched the Cazadores, young and old, holding hands around the dancing man in the mask.

A knock came on the door, and a militia soldier stepped inside.

“Lieutenant, a word, please?” said the man.

Wynn stepped outside and closed the door. Not a minute later, he opened it and motioned for Michael.

“I’ll be right back,” Michael said to Pedro.

He steeled himself for more bad news, but nothing could have prepared him for what Wynn was about to tell him.

“There have been two deaths just discovered on rig 15,” Wynn said. “Both murders.”

Michael swallowed hard. This could be the spark that blew the whole powder keg.

“One of them was just a boy, Chief,” Wynn said with a sigh. “Someone killed the poor kid in his sleep.”

* * * * *

Thunder boomed in the distance, rattling Kade’s armor. Over the clap came hissing and popping sounds from the burning jungle around him and Team Wrangler.

On point, Gran Jefe swept his flamethrower back and forth, firing short bursts into the wave of vines. They whipped backward, smoldering.

Mushroom stipes folded under the intense flames. The meat of their caps popped, releasing billions of spores into the air.

Ants burst from house-size dirt mounds, skittering away from the fire, their exoskeletons popping in the heat.

Unrelenting, Gran Jefe burned a wide swath through the toxic jungle. Kade was on rear guard, using the other flamethrower to keep back any vines and insects brazen enough to follow.

Between him and Gran Jefe, Tia and Sofia hacked away at limbs and vines with their machetes.

They had abandoned the APC after spotting flares that had to be from Team Raptor, and had been on the run ever since. But the flames seemed only to enrage the toxic jungle. All sorts of insects clambered over the dirt toward them. They weren’t alone.

“Snakes!” Sofia screamed.

Kade whirled toward her voice, seeing a behemoth serpent with scales like armor plates, slithering toward the divers. Two more of the ten-foot-long monsters squirmed out of holes.

“Get back!” Kade yelled.

Sofia retreated with Tia between her and Kade as he launched a wave of fire at the closest monster. As the flames hit the segmented shells, the shrieking head retracted inside.

When he moved to the next snake, he saw that it was not a reptile at all, but a monstrous centipede.

He fired a burst of flames into the side of the next creature, catching several pairs of legs on fire. The creature balled up into a tight spiral.

“¡Vámonos!” Gran Jefe yelled, waving the divers down his burned path. Kade tried to get his bearings, wondering if Gran Jefe was leading them out of the jungle or just in a circle.

For all Kade could tell, they were going round and round.

Using his chin to bump on the comms, he tried to connect with Team Raptor and got only static. Either they were too far away, or the storm was still interfering.

Tia cried out as a vine wrapped around her leg. Sofia severed the creeper with her blade. Kade fired another burst of flame and bent down to help Tia up.

His mind was going as fast as his racing heart.

Long, thin gouts of fire illuminated the jungle with each squeeze of the trigger. Spore cases exploded on the tangled vines streaming toward him. Thorny branches reached out as he backpedaled to fire.

It seemed as though this entire ecosystem was alive, connected to some unseen beating heart—and to a brain as well.

A whipping sound overwhelmed the crackling of fire, and Kade turned, bumping into a mushroom cap the size of an APC tire. He bounced away and aimed the flamethrower at vines slithering toward him. With each pull of the trigger, the tank inched closer toward empty.

The “low” indicator on the device chirped, joining the clicks from the Geiger counter. There was no time to look at the radiation readings, but the noise meant they were rising.

They had to find Team Raptor.

Kade put down another burst of flame and looked through gaps in the canopy for flares but saw only the flash of lightning. The whipping sound grew louder, and he finally located the noise. It came from a ravine in the jungle floor.

A flood of mouse-sized wingless yellow insects streamed out of the chasm in the dirt.

“Termites!” he warned the other divers.

The army of mutant insects surged, mandibles clacking for a chance at something besides their regular diet of wood.

Kade halted and checked the gas.

Five percent left.

“Kade!” Tia yelled.

“go!” he screamed back.

Leveling the barrel at the megatermites, he pressed the trigger. The stream of fire slammed into the front ranks of the insects, toasting them in their light armor. Yellow shells blackened and crackled as he fired into the mass of insects.

Hundreds died by the second, but each trigger pull moved the gas indicator closer to empty.

Kade finally lowered the barrel and ran after the other divers. By the time he caught up, the team was approaching a clearing in the towering trees.

The lake wasn’t far away. Perhaps they could hold back the jungle there and use the treeless shore to fire off their flares.

“Gran Jefe, the lake!” he shouted. “We have to make a run for the lake!”

“¡No, muy mal!” he yelled back.

Kade pushed past Tia and Sofia and started firing at the branches and vines unfurling from the trees. A burning branch with thick thorns slashed against his helmet.

He ducked and kept moving despite the shouts from Gran Jefe. The big Cazador was burning a trail away from the water, back the way they had come.

“Come on you dumb shit, you’re going in circles,” Kade said.

Swinging the flamethrower around, he squirted another burst at a wall of vines growing between two trees. The fire coated the brittle vegetation, burning it to ash.

The shore wasn’t far, and there wasn’t much between them and the water now. But Gran Jefe was still going the other direction, and he had stopped.

It took Kade a moment to see why.

The mad bastard was out of gas and using his cutlass.

“Get to the lake!” Kade yelled at Tia and Sofia. “I’ll catch up.”

He rushed back toward Gran Jefe, blasting at vines that surged in from his flanks. The soldier was swinging his cutlass in one hand, axe in the other.

The flamethrower pack and barrel skittered away, dragged by a vine. Another creeper snaked around Gran Jefe’s leg. He brought the axe down, severing it.

Two more vines peeled away from a tree, wrapping around both his arms. He pulled on them, but they ensnared his wrist and elbows, pulling his upper body into an X.

“Hold still!” Kade yelled.

“No, no!” Gran Jefe screamed back.

Kade used more of the precious juice to incinerate the vines.

Down to 2 percent.

Gran Jefe fell to the ground. Pushing himself up, he scrambled for his blades.

“Gracias, Cowboy!”

There was no time to celebrate. An entire wave of half-burned vines and untouched ones, too, surged across the jungle floor toward the two men. Termites, ants, and centipedes skittered within and around the rampant flora.

Kade put down another wave of fire. Flames coated the limbs and vines, bursting the spore cases growing on them.

The blazing arc weakened until it was just a small blue flame. Kade looked at the gauge. Still two percent left.

The stupid meter must have been stuck, because the next trigger pull got nothing.

Cursing, Kade unslung the flamethrower and took off running with Gran Jefe toward the lake. Flakes and spore sacs rained down around them, coating their armor in white ash.

Through the gap in the trees, Kade saw Tia and Sofia standing on the shore, having swapped their blades for laser rifles.

Gran Jefe lumbered through the forest, but he was losing steam.

“We’re almost there!” Kade shouted.

He turned to look at the vines chasing him when something gouged his shin. He caught a root and crashed to the dirt.

Gran Jefe stopped and grabbed Kade.

“Arriba, Cowboy!” he yelled. “Up!”

Kade gritted his teeth at the fire burning up his ankle and calf. When he looked down, he saw that it wasn’t a vine or barb that had cut him.

“Ah, bloody hell!” he yelled.

Four gray slugs clung to his leg. Two were on his armor shin pad, another was on his knee pad, but the fourth was on the rim of his boot, where it met the shin armor.

He pulled out his knife and tried to pluck it off with the edge, but the ugly little bastard had an iron grip. So instead of trying to pluck it off, he skewered it in the back. The impaled slug let go, writhing on the blade.

Raising it, he saw the circular mouth with needle teeth dripping his blood.

Kade flung the slug off, then stabbed the others, carefully removing the slimy creatures one by one.

He didn’t need to look down to know that the first slug had chewed through his boot and into his flesh. He had to get it sealed as soon as possible against the radiation and before toxins or germs entered and infected the wound.

The pain grew more intense with every step. He limped after Gran Jefe, who had taken the lead. The Cazador halted to look back at Kade. Then he lumbered over and reached out.

“I help,” he said. “I help, Cowboy.”

Tia and Sofia hacked the vines chasing the two men as they approached the shore.

Kade blinked away the red encroaching his vision. His foot hurt like hell. He was in trouble, the toxins already in his bloodstream. He needed antibiotics and antivenin.

By the time they got to the shore, Kade was fighting to stay conscious. Gran Jefe set him down in the dirt next to the steaming, corrosive water.

Tia crouched down.

“What happened?” she cried.

“Slugs,” Kade whispered. “Little bloodsucking bastards . . .”

Sofia opened a medical pack as Gran Jefe got up and pointed at the jungle.

Even with his blurred vision, Kade could see the vines and branches reaching out like flickering tongues. The insects flooded out of the ground and through the flames, hissing, popping, and shrieking up a terrible din.

The Hell Divers were trapped between a toxic jungle, mutant bugs, and an acid lake. If those things didn’t kill Kade, the poison racing through his blood probably would.

nineteen

A loud animal trumpeting reverberated over the rumble of the convoy engines.

“Hold, hold,” X said over the team comm.

He stood in the turret of his tank, looking out at the single remaining lane of bridge over the Mooloolah River ahead. The other two bridges had long since collapsed into the water.

They had to cross on the remaining bridge, but first, General Forge had deployed a recon scout and an engineer to make sure it would hold their vehicles. Jo-Jo was also out there, out of sight, but X could see her location on his tracker device.

He scoped the bridge with his binos, homing in on one of the Cazadores. The engineer was crouched behind a charred vehicle covered in vines.

The trumpeting sounded again, and a second Cazador emerged, running full speed toward the engineer. When he got there, they both bolted for the convoy.

The view wasn’t great from the turret, but X didn’t need to see over the edge to know that the amphibious monsters were down there.

There was no denying that the monsters were hunting them, but X felt they would be safe inside the armored vehicles.

He covered the two runners as they made their way to the pair of APCs behind the tank. General Forge and six of his soldiers were inside one, and four of the remaining Barracudas were in the other.

Jo-Jo bounded into sight a moment later, returning to the convoy.

X waved, and she hopped up onto the front of the tank.

“Good job,” he said, tossing her a piece of jerky from his vest. She took it and hunkered down.

Damn, she was trained better than he thought.

X ducked back into the tank, where Slayer shared the cockpit with the driver.

“Our engineer says the way is clear,” said Slayer.

“Copy that,” X replied. “Let’s move out.”

He pulled himself back into the turret.

Jo-Jo leaped off the tank, walking ahead as the convoy rolled toward the damaged bridge. The treads on the tank rolled over the shell of a vehicle, flattening it. A human skeleton slumped out, the bones bursting into powder under the tracks.

The driver navigated the bridge expertly, driving around the broken-down cars and avoiding the cracks. A section halfway across had broken away, exposing rusted beams. They drove right over the gap, which was about a third as wide as the tank.

X grabbed the .50-caliber, keeping a close eye on the railings to his right. One of the drones hovered overhead, providing a second pair of eyes.

After crossing the bridge, they took an exit whose pavement had crumbled away. The tank jolted over dirt before pulling back onto the Sunshine Motorway. A leaning yellow sign protruded from the jungle growing along the road. It depicted a black creature that X didn’t recognize as a kangaroo until the tank got closer. The sign was still readable after more than two centuries.

Kangaroos Next 5 km.

X had yet to see a mutant version of the beasts, but they could be lurking out here somewhere.

Jo-Jo moved ahead at a trot, leaning forward on her knuckles. She was fast for such a big animal, and X soon lost sight of her in the darkness.

The tank motored down the broken concrete framed by the strange, toxic flora. A light snow of spores drifted down from the branches, sticking to the tank’s armor.

The beams from the convoy raked over the trees and canopy. Ahead, a cluster of man-size mushrooms grew up in the left lane. Groves of purple flowers draped over the right lane. They were beautiful in a way, but probably deadly.

As soon as the tank passed, the flowers began to vibrate as if a heavy wind had hit them. The stems stretched out toward the tank tracks, attaching to the treads, which then ripped them from the ground, roots and all.

The motorway wound through the dense jungles, taking them through a stretch of land reclaimed entirely by nature. Jo-Jo kept on point, coming into view now and then.

She suddenly leaped back onto the road, staring at the canopy of trees. X turned in that direction just as a bird took flight.

The trumpet call of a cyclops rang out in the distance.

X ducked back into the tank while Jo-Jo hopped on the armor. The convoy pushed onward, still unmolested by the area’s top predator.

“We’re about a mile from the bridge over the Maroochy River,” Slayer said.

That was the spot where they had sought refuge in the abandoned vehicles not two days earlier.

X remained in the troop hold, taking a minute to drink some water and eat some rations. Jo-Jo hopped off, and X went back into the turret as the convoy started across the bridge, moving around the ancient armored vehicles.

The trumpeting continued, drawing Jo-Jo to the railing. She looked over the side, then returned to the center of the bridge.

The armored column made it across without an attack.

“We’re getting close,” Slayer said.

He was looking at a map of the area.

There were two routes to the Sunshine Castle, but the short way crossed two bridges, and one was out.

X climbed back into the turret as they picked up speed down the Sunshine Motorway. Jo-Jo rode on the front, looking back and up at him every few minutes.

He tossed her a piece of jerky as they slowed to turn off on Highway 6. The tank rumbled, picking up speed and plowing down the highway toward the final bridge. Out here, it was nothing but open fields and the rubble of demolished buildings.

In some places, light poles remained standing, along with rusted sections of guardrail. At first glance, it appeared that this area was spared from the bombs during the war, and the various major natural disasters afterward.

The convoy finally came up on the last bridge. On the other side stood recognizable remains of civilization: gas stations, shops, pubs.

But it was what X saw on the bridge that drew his attention.

Concrete blocks, razor wire, and fences blocked off the area. These weren’t from just after the long-ago war. They were more recent, judging by the condition.

As the tank approached, X noticed bodies and spent shell casings. What looked like artillery craters pocked the street on the other side of the bridge.

A battle had been fought here, but it was hard to say when. Years ago? Decades? Longer?

One thing was certain: the blockade hadn’t held. The tank crushed a leaning fence and several sets of skeletal remains before plowing up onto the damaged road.

X switched to his laser rifle so he could zoom in on the buildings at the top of the hill. They passed a gas station that had exploded, leaving behind blackened cars that had been waiting to fuel up.

Finally, the tank came up on a three-way intersection with a tree growing out of a circular median. The branches were laden with orange berries the size of apples.

Jo-Jo hopped off the tank and knuckle-walked over, reaching up to pluck off one of the berries. She swallowed it in three bites and leaped up into the tree.

It was then that X noticed a trident carved in the bark.

“This has to be it,” X said.

He whistled for the monkey, who swung off a branch and made her way back to the tank while chewing the fruit.

The vehicles continued up another slope toward their destination. The castle was on the right side of the road. Jo-Jo was standing now, her arm wrapped around the tank’s main gun, also checking out the area.

For a moment, X simply stared, trying to make sense of the scene. Bones lay strewn across the asphalt.

The tank ground to a stop in front of the remains. But these weren’t the gray, yellowing bones of humans or even mutant animals. These contained no DNA.

These were the dark metal bones of two defectors.

“Jo-Jo,” X said. He motioned, and the monkey hopped down to explore the area.

X relayed his find over the comms and ducked into the turret. He secured the hatch, knowing that it wouldn’t do much good if any functioning machines were out here.

That’s not possible, X thought.

He moved up to the viewports to search the road. In the spotlights, he identified a second, then a third defector. He couldn’t tell how long ago they were blown to pieces. A mushroom had grown inside one of the blasted metal torsos.

These machines didn’t succumb to the virus the Hell Divers had uploaded to shut them down. People who once lived here must have destroyed them long ago.

“Slayer, send in a fire team with Jo-Jo to check this out,” X ordered.

“Copy that,” Slayer said. He went out the back of the hatch.

Not a minute later, four armored members of the Barracuda squad fanned out across the road after the monkey, who had climbed the gates of the outer curtain wall that wrapped around the castle.

Sergeant Blackburn swapped his flamethrower for a laser rifle.

X sat there waiting, wondering, as he often did, if he had made the right decision in coming here. Captain Rolo had warned him this could be a trap, but if there was a chance of finding food and possibly people here, he would risk it.

He moved between the three viewports at the front of the tank, trying to get a better view.

“Area looks clear; Jo-Jo seems calm,” Slayer reported on the comms. “Should we head inside?”

“Yes. Open the gate,” X replied.

The team moved out of sight, and it wasn’t long before X saw Slayer on the other side of the gate. Two soldiers helped him move the left gate enough to let the convoy inside.

The tank rolled up into a courtyard just inside the outer curtain wall.

“Wait here,” X said.

He opened the hatch and joined the other teams outside. General Forge was standing in front of them, his red-feathered helmet angled to look up at the turrets along the inner curtain wall.

A dozen soldiers spread out to form a perimeter.

The courtyard between the walls was mostly just a parking lot. Not a single mature tree remained, but smaller trees and bushes grew in the bare dirt around the castle walls.

“Someone must have cleared the jungle,” X said.

By the size of the saplings and bushes, they had seeded years ago, maybe a decade, which gave him a sense of how long it had been since humans were here.

His gut told him this place was abandoned. If it was indeed the Coral Castle, the former occupants were all dead.

Seeing the defectors in pieces gave him a pretty clear picture of what had happened to them.

Slayer came trekking back toward them, cradling his rifle.

“All clear on the outside,” he reported. “We may have found a way in, too.”

“Let’s go,” X said.

Jo-Jo took point, loping ahead.

General Forge and the Barracudas followed with X to a rubble-strewn entrance off a stone courtyard overlooking the parking lot.

Sergeant Blackburn took them up the stone steps and past a door sealed off with steel panels. They crossed over the dirt around the inner curtain wall, directly under a large tower with a turret at the top.

Jo-Jo was just ahead, sniffing the ground. She kept going, moving fast again.

The other entrances also seemed to be blocked off, and all the windows, even those high up on the towers, were sealed.

“There,” Slayer said.

Jo-Jo waited in front of a gap broken in the wall. In it lay a defector, blown in half. The monkey slipped inside the dark crack.

X stepped over the metal limbs and into the hole in the wall. Pieces of wall had crumbled away over the years since the breach and lay scattered on the floor.

Jo-Jo vanished in the passage ahead. Sergeant Blackburn led the soldiers after her. His tactical light hit a door secured with chains. They passed it by and continued to a chamber that had caved in, blocking the way. The former occupants had blown the passage.

Jo-Jo was there, unable to go any farther.

“Wait,” Slayer said. He moved to the edge of the pile and ducked down. “Looks like a way through.”

X got down and peered up the rubble slope.

“I’ll check it out,” Slayer said.

He got down and started to crawl through the opening, which was just big enough to admit a man—or a defector.

His light faded as he crawled over the top of the scree pile and started down the other side, leaving the team in silence. They waited a few minutes until a clanking rang out.

Jo-Jo went down on all fours, hair spiking as everyone turned back the way they had come.

General Forge drew his sword and set off with the blade in one hand and his laser rifle in the other. X was right behind him.

A light blinked on in the center of the passage.

“Down here,” said the voice of Slayer.

He lowered his light, and X saw that he had opened the chained door. He motioned, and they followed him down a passage ending at another door, open to reveal a mess hall.

Jo-Jo’s hackles went down as she relaxed and entered the chamber.

Lying on the ground was a knight, his chest armor riddled with burned holes from laser bolts. A sword and a submachine gun rested on the ground not far from his shriveled hands.

Across the room were tables of supplies. Rows of crates, some toppled, were stacked against the walls. Whatever went down here had happened fast, but it appeared the knight was the only one to fall, perhaps holding ground so others could escape.

Sergeant Blackburn walked over to a table and pulled off a crate. The bottom fell out, dumping the contents on the ground. The noise reverberated through the room, and all the soldiers froze.

As if in answer, there arose a hissing sound, as though the souls of the departed whispered in chorus from their tombs inside the walls.

The men fell into defensive positions, rifles up.

Jo-Jo growled, hair spiking again.

For several minutes, the hissing continued in the same whisper-like tone.

This was no trumpet call of the cyclopes, and not the scream of some feral human hybrid.

This was something else. They were not alone in this place.

* * * * *

Rodger stared at the radio equipment, desperate to hear whatever Magnolia had sent him. But for some reason, he couldn’t bring himself to listen. Or do much else, either.

It was closing in on midnight, and although he was exhausted from a long day of working the trenching machines for the pipes, he couldn’t sleep. His mind was on Magnolia, and not just their failed relationship—he was genuinely worried about her.

There was still no word on the mission to Australia.

He had pulled the city up in the archives at the bunker terminal, checking the location of the ITC facility that Mags would be trying to locate. He sat there now, going over the archives.

A thermonuclear weapon had been detonated over the city, and if that weren’t bad enough, the machines had decided to hit the center of downtown with a second nuke.

Rodger could only imagine how bad the radiation would be there. It wasn’t just Mags he worried about. The radiation spikes here at the outpost had the workers spooked. Something was causing it, and he still didn’t have a clue.

What was certain: something killed the Cazadores they had discovered buried near the port. Maybe it was the breeders or their spawn, but Rodger felt there was more to the story.

For now, the entire outpost was on lockdown. No one was authorized to leave, and all work was shut down.

Rodger pushed his glasses up higher on his nose and walked to the other side of the room, where Lieutenant Bromista stood with his tattooed arms folded over his chest armor as he watched the work site’s monitors.

They had narrowed down the epicenter of the seismic readings and had sent a drone out to find it after the last tremor, an hour ago.

Using a joystick and keyboard, Corporal Ancla expertly flew the eagle-size drone. Of all the soldiers who had trained on the new technology from the supercarrier Immortal, she was the best.

Her eyes were stuck to the screen, watching for any threats to the machine, murmuring under her breath as lightning flashed across the sky.

The drone cruised over the epicenter of the blast that melted the center of Panama City.

It hovered for a moment before blasting over the outer ruins, past the stacks of buildings that had collapsed under the nuclear heat wave.

Rodger followed along by checking the map on the table as it passed over a cemetery and a town center, but it didn’t stop once it reached the shore. Ancla guided the drone out over the ocean, where it hovered.

“That’s where the signal is coming from?” Rodger asked.

She flicked her tongue between her jagged front teeth, reminding him of a snake. Rodger leaned down and saw nothing but whitecaps across the ocean view. Perhaps the drone wasn’t broken. Perhaps the seismic readings were coming from under the ocean, which presented a new problem.

“Can we send it into the water?” Rodger said.

Ancla frowned and looked to Bromista, speaking to him in Spanish.

“No,” replied Bromista, shaking his head.

Ancla went on to explain all the technical issues that could go wrong, while Rodger listened to his translator. To him, none of these things mattered. The entire outpost was at risk until they figured out what was causing these tremors.

“King Xavier would want us to risk the drone,” he said.

Ancla leaned closer to the screen. The device hovered above the waves, then nosed in and disappeared.

The screen went dark until the drone’s lights flickered on, spearing into the depths. It took only a few seconds before the lights showed columns of black rock protruding from the mud. They seemed too straight to be natural, though, and after looking at the map Rodger confirmed that this was part of an old bridge.

“The Pan-American Highway,” he announced.

The drone cruised over the submerged hunks of bridge and the mangled shapes of vehicles covered in moss and barnacles. An entire ecosystem of fish and sea creatures had taken over the ruined highway.

Shoals of fish darted away from the lights, and an eel slithered through a blown-out car window. Ancla flew the drone closer to the shore, flitting its light over the muddy bottom.

Nothing stirred in the lights. In fact, Rodger didn’t see another living creature in the water, which seemed to be getting darker.

Ancla clicked her tongue in frustration. None of them knew what they were looking for, and Rodger saw nothing that would explain the quakes. For all they knew, this was just a natural occurrence.

Like hell, Rodger thought.

He pulled his glasses off and rubbed the sleep from his eyes.

“¿Qué pasa? ” Ancla said.

Rodger stuck his glasses back on and looked. The drone had located an area of dense vegetation. Out of the mud grew red stems that branched like cardiovascular systems. The drone hummed past, entering a forest of the red weeds.

Thicker clusters of the plants grew ahead, forming dense mats that blocked out the beam from the drone.

Rodger checked the coordinates. They were entering the Rio Abajo delta, which carved through the razed city.

Ancla leaned closer to the monitor with Rodger. The stems and branches of the plants pulsated red, much like vines and trees that Rodger had encountered on dives in red zones.

“What the hell’s going on?” Rodger mumbled.

A beeping sounded, and he walked over to the seismograph. The machine was charting out another seismic event, slinging lines back and forth across the graph.

This was the biggest yet.

“¡Qué demonios!” Ancla yelled.

Rodger rushed back to the monitors just in time to see the red branches wrapping around the drone. Ancla twisted on the joystick, but the drone was entangled.

Glowing plants covered the feed, their stems and branches up so close to the camera, he could see through them with each flash. To his surprise, the flesh of these plants was as translucent as the pale morays that glided among the rocks and corals.

Ancla was still twisting and tugging the controls, trying to free the drone.

The screen winked off.

She scooted back, holding up her hands. Then she rubbed them together, clicking her tongue and talking fast.

Rodger didn’t need his translating device to know she was cursing a blue streak.

She was furious that they had ordered her to send the drone underwater despite the risks. As her angry mutterings trailed off, he realized that the seismograph was no longer chirping.

Rodger turned to it again, a theory seeding in his mind.

Somehow, the drone had triggered the seismic activity. That had to be it. The tremors started when it got into the weeds, and then stopped when those rapacious tendrils of vegetation destroyed the drone.

He thought back to the other events and radiation spikes. The seed of thought grew as he rushed over to the city map on the wall. He checked the different locations of the spikes. They were all right around the border of the Rio Abajo Forest or else close to the river.

“I think I know what’s causing these,” he said out loud.

Bromista joined him in front of the map.

“It’s us,” Rodger said. He tapped the lieutenant’s chest armor, then his own.

“You, me, everyone,” Rodger said. “We are causing these reactions. The flora is reacting to our presence.”

Bromista looked unsure at first, then spoke in Spanish. The translation was exactly what Rodger was thinking.

“It’s like the city is alive,” Bromista had said.

Rodger nodded. “The jungle has an immune system, and it’s trying to keep us from invading.”

He thought of Yejun’s people. Had they trekked in and awoken some ancient evil that transformed them into those glowing radioactive beasts?

“Yejun,” he whispered, and suddenly realized he hadn’t seen him for a few hours.

He ran a hand through his hair, hoping the kid wasn’t back out there at his family’s grave.

He turned to Bromista. “Lieutenant, see if one of your soldiers can locate Yejun. I don’t want him crossing the canal to the boatyard without an escort, got it?”

Bromista seemed annoyed, but he nodded.

“Sí, Director Mintel.”

twenty

“Edgar, you got eyes on Team Wrangler?” Magnolia asked.

“Negative. The flames stopped.”

Magnolia could see the other team’s fires in the distance. She didn’t know what they were trying to kill, but at least they were alive, and she had their general location.

Hearing distant shrieks, Magnolia glimpsed a pair of the huge birds in a brilliant flash of lightning.

“Thanks again, Arlo,” she said. “I don’t know why I locked up back there.”

“No sweat—happens to us all,” he replied.

Magnolia downshifted. The road on the other side of the dam had broken away, leaving a narrow path framed by a mound of dirt on the right side.

“There’s no other way?” Edgar asked from the turret.

“It’s the only way down unless you want to turn around and go all the way back,” Arlo said. “Or we could get out and walk. I would just as soon not do the latter.”

“We keep going forward,” Magnolia said.

She hugged the cliff wall on the right side of the road, keeping the tires as far from the precipice as she could.

The headlights illuminated more issues ahead. A long-ago rockslide had covered the road in tank-size boulders.

“Edgar, you see a way through that?” Magnolia asked.

“Yeah, I think you can get through on the left,” he replied. “That would put us damn close to the edge, though.”

He was right. The left side of the road dropped steeply down to the lake. If the edge gave way, it would end their mission and their lives.

“I’ll try it,” Magnolia said. “If it looks too risky, I’ll back up.”

She started toward the boulders and mounds of dirt, some of which were larger than the vehicle. She slowed to a crawl, watching constantly out the left window.

The four left tires rolled dangerously close to the cliff’s edge.

“How we looking on the right?” she asked.

Arlo leaned for a look. “You got five inches, maybe more.”

“Okay,” she said.

Easing the APC to the right, she caught the side mirror on a rock. It snapped off with an audible crack. She gave a bit more juice, the boulder shrieking against the passenger door and window.

The glass cracked but didn’t shatter.

“Almost clear,” Arlo said.

“You’re good,” Edgar said.

Magnolia batted the sweat from her eyes and steered around the rest of the boulders.

“Any sign of Wrangler?” she called up to Edgar.

“Negative. That fire is out, and I can’t see anything else.”

Magnolia cursed as she drove down the road, thumping over vines and crushing weeds that grew out of the cracked concrete.

Thirty minutes later, Arlo pointed to the right of the road. “I think that’s pretty close to where we saw the fire,” he said.

She pulled onto the shoulder and killed the engine.

“Edgar, grab the flamethrower,” she said. “If they used theirs, we might need ours.”

He climbed down and strapped it on. The three divers met outside, staring at the impossibly tall trees that reminded Magnolia of the Dr. Seuss books she had read growing up.

This was a strange, terrifying place.

“Stay close,” she said. “Suspect everything.”

Edgar took point with the flamethrower. Their helmet lights speared into the darkness, guiding them around hat-size mushroom caps and house-size anthills. The deeper they trekked, the thicker the vegetation grew.

Magnolia peered at the lingering smoke in the distance and kept moving, bringing her rifle up.

The smoke grew heavier, and Edgar vanished inside the cloud.

“Stay close,” Magnolia said.

She couldn’t see more than a few feet in front of her.

“Edgar,” she called out.

He answered a few moments later.

“Over here,” he said. “Quick.”

Magnolia moved carefully through the smoke with Arlo until they found Edgar standing between two tree trunks.

The other APC’s front end was caught on a thick, black stump.

“They must have gotten stuck and fled,” she said, wanting to believe it.

Edgar crouched, and Magnolia made her way up to him. They turned off their lights and sat in the darkness, watching smoke drift over the burned forest.

Hearing nothing, Magnolia rose to her feet. “I’ll check it out. Stay here.”

She started slowly and cautiously toward the vehicle. Without her flashlight, seeing was almost impossible in the smoke.

On the next step, something popped under her boot.

“Shit,” she said, lifting it. Goo squished out from under her sole. A spore sac had popped. A quick scan revealed a jungle floor strewn with them. She turned on her flashlight to find red flakes carpeting the dirt.

Magnolia called out to Edgar and Arlo. “Clear.”

The three-person team advanced to the vehicle. Bending down, she found tracks leading away from it.

“They must have fought their way out of here,” she said. “But what were they fighting?”

She didn’t see any carcasses. Edgar climbed inside and started the engine, killed it, and got back out.

“Must have been something pretty terrible to get them to leave a working truck and hoof it,” he said.

“They high-centered on a stump,” Arlo said. “And look at the glass.”

Magnolia checked out the windshield and other windows—all melted away. This wasn’t from the flames, she realized as she held up her wrist computer. The sensors detected acid and other toxins.

“They fled because they had no choice,” Magnolia said. “It was take their chances out here or die in the APC.”

She studied the path through charred vegetation and dangling dead vines. Memories of other dives surfaced. Her heart thumping, she recalled all the times in her life when trees and plants had tried to kill her. It wasn’t just animal monsters out here. The flora could be just as dangerous.

“The jungle attacked them,” she said.

“Say what?” Arlo asked.

“The jungle—it surrounded them and hit their truck with acid.”

“Oh, shit . . .”

Arlo looked skittish.

“We need to get the hell out of here,” he said.

Edgar held up a hand. “Easy. Just keep it down, Arlo, damn, man.”

Magnolia stole a moment to think. It was calm here now, not a single plant moving, but she could only imagine what had happened.

Bending down, she picked one of the red flakes off the ground with a gloved finger. Under her light, she saw that it was a seed. Ironic that finding seeds was the purpose of this mission.

But this wasn’t the type of seed that would save the human race. It was a seed of the apocalypse, to spread the toxic jungle. Worse yet, the jungle seemed to have a defense system that attacked intruders.

Team Wrangler had poked the hornet’s nest.

“We have to find them,” she said. “Follow me, and shoot anything that moves.”

Edgar took point again. Most of the smoke was gone, revealing a graveyard of withered vines and roots. Flakes and spore cases littered the dirt all around the path.

They passed the burned exoskeletons of ants and, farther down the trail, centipedes.

From beyond the next hill came a loud hissing. Magnolia raised her fist and moved forward alone.

In a dirt ravine some eight feet deep, hundreds of yellow insects wriggled on the torched ground, their limbs and wings burned away.

“What are they?” Edgar asked.

“Termites, I think,” Magnolia replied.

She motioned to traverse the hill and get back to the trail with Arlo.

Soon, they saw the acid lake through a clearing in the jungle.

The team started down the shore, following tracks until they suddenly vanished. Magnolia halted.

“What?” Arlo asked.

“The tracks—they’re gone.”

Magnolia shined her light over the beach. Steam rose off the water near the edge.

“No way they went in there,” she said. “What could possibly drive them into acid?”

“Uh, guys,” Arlo said.

Edgar took a step closer to the water.

“Wait,” Magnolia said.

“Guys,” Arlo repeated.

“I told you to . . .” Magnolia started to say, when she saw where his flashlight was pointing.

Two helmets protruded above the mud.

“Help,” came a faint voice.

Edgar started to move with Arlo, but Magnolia grabbed them both.

“Wait,” she said.

“We have to get them out of the mud,” Arlo said.

“That’s not mud,” Magnolia said. “Arlo, quick, go get the truck. Take the road. We’ll use the winch.”

Arlo took off running.

Edgar unslung his flamethrower and bent down near the edge of the quicksand with Magnolia. She could see only two helmets. Sofia and Gran Jefe.

“Don’t move,” she said. “We’re going to get you out of there.”

Their upturned visors were the only thing above the muck now. There was no sign of Kade or Tia, and Magnolia feared the worst.

“We have to do something fast,” Edgar said.

“Go get a branch or something.”

Edgar took off, hunting for something to reach their mired companions, while Magnolia tried to soothe the divers with words of encouragement as they sank deeper in the morass.

“Hold on,” she said. “You have oxygen reserves; you’ll be okay.”

She could hear Gran Jefe trying to respond, but his voice was faint and muffled. Sofia’s helmet was still above the mire, and her visor was angled toward Magnolia.

Seeing her best friend, a new mother, stuck in the muck was too much. Magnolia unstrapped her laser rifle and laid it on the ground. Then she stepped into the quicksand. It instantly took hold.

“Mags!” Edgar shouted.

She waded out, reaching toward Sofia.

The sand swallowed her up to her knees, then her waist.

“Don’t move!” Edgar said.

He ran over with a long branch. She grabbed it, only for the end to snap off.

Bubbles popped where Gran Jefe’s helmet went under. Sofia was next, her visor pinned on Magnolia, eyes pleading for help. There was no sign of Kade or Tia.

Edgar lay down at the edge. “Grab my hand,” he said.

She strained to touch his fingers, coming within two inches.

He crawled toward her, and she pulled back.

“No! Stay where you are, Edgar!” she said. “That’s an order.”

He remained at the edge, trying to stretch farther.

Headlights jounced down the hill, swerving around rusted cars and thumping over vines and fallen limbs.

Magnolia tried to move, but she was stuck fast.

The pit belched more bubbles, pulling her deeper.

Arlo skidded to a stop near the road.

“Hold on, I’m coming right back,” Edgar said.

He took off running to the truck. Arlo was already slinging the cable out from the front grill guard. Edgar grabbed the hook at the end and unreeled it toward Magnolia.

Lightning struck the jungle to the west, the thunderclap rattling Magnolia to the marrow. As the boom faded, a shriek pierced the sky.

She looked to the source—a formation of the giant birds.

“Hurry!” she shouted.

Edgar ran to the edge with the cable while Arlo grabbed a fire axe off the truck. He rushed over and dangled it out to Magnolia. She fished for the end, grabbed it, and held on as Arlo and Edgar pulled her an inch at a time through the thick porridge.

Her hands grabbed terra firma, and she groped her way up out of the pit, her suit and armor black with the tarry goo. Edgar was already cinching the cable around his armor.

“I’m going in; it’s the only way,” he said. “When I pull, you run the winch!”

Magnolia went to the winch, waving Arlo behind the wheel as Edgar waded in.

The birds circled overhead, waiting for the chance to attack their entrapped prey.

Another noise joined their raucous shrieks. It was the same rustling or scratching noise she had heard earlier. But this wasn’t wind; it was coming from the jungle.

She turned toward huge towering trees and saw something that made her stare in disbelief. At the jungle’s edge, vines flicked like tongues in the glow of lightning flashes, coming toward the lakeshore.

A tug came on the cable, and Magnolia signaled to Arlo.

He cranked the winch and pulled out Edgar, who had his arms around Sofia. He rolled her onto the beach and then plunged back into the quicksand.

Sofia lay there a moment, then moved an arm.

“Are you okay?” Magnolia asked.

She nodded her head. “I—I think so, but where’s . . .”

She looked about before pushing herself up.

“Get to the truck and man the fifty,” Magnolia said. “Watch those birds.”

Sofia staggered back to the truck, clearly dazed.

Magnolia returned to the winch, holding the cable.

Minutes later, Edgar had Gran Jefe out, then Tia. She was in shock, shaking and mumbling.

“Where’s Kade?” she said in a moment of sudden clarity. Tia turned all around. “Where’s Kade?”

“Still stuck in the pit,” Magnolia said. “Get in the truck.”

“No, I want to help.”

Gran Jefe pulled on Tia, but she jerked free.

“You want to help? Watch our six,” Magnolia said.

Gran Jefe picked up the flamethrower Edgar had put down, and slung it over his back.

Magnolia held the cable and felt nothing.

The vines snaked across the lakeshore, inching closer, and the birds swooped lower.

“Come on,” Magnolia said.

She felt a faint tug and tugged back. Another weak pull, and she shot up to wave at Arlo.

He cranked the winch, and the cable snaked up onto the drum, pulling Edgar and Kade. But unlike the others, Kade lay still and limp on the ground.

The birds shrieked and cawed, and the jungle seemed to answer with its eerie rustling. Even the thunder joined in the mad cacophony.

“Get him in the truck!” she shouted.

Edgar and Gran Jefe helped carry Kade inside the back of the APC, where they laid him down and stripped off his armor plates.

Tia knelt, sobbing as the divers worked on him. Magnolia could see part of the problem. His leg was swollen around the ankle, where something had poked, stung, or bitten him.

Arlo looked back over the front seat. “Is he okay?”

“Drive, Arlo!” Magnolia yelled.

“Where?” He turned back to the wheel. “Drive where?”

“I don’t care! Drive!”

* * * * *

The low-pitched hissing whispered through the castle, like a mother shushing a crying baby.

X kept his gun up, following the soldiers. Jo-Jo scanned the walls and ceiling, almost as if she were trying to see through them.

The Barracudas had cleared the passageways to another blockade of bookshelves and tables piled against a door. It took them almost an hour to clear the doorway, painstakingly removing each piece to keep from making noise.

The door was locked, but a laser bolt solved that problem.

Slayer twisted the handle, and Blackburn went in first, sweeping his rifle back and forth.

X was the third one through, entering a large atrium with a stairway that led to an open second floor with rooms behind a railed walkway.

The first floor appeared to have once hosted feasts, weddings, and other large gatherings and celebrations. The long table in the center lay broken in half, and more upended tables and chairs lay scattered about.

A chandelier hung from the vaulted ceiling’s exposed beams. X checked them with his light, half expecting to see a skeleton hanging from them.

Jo-Jo suddenly went down on her front knuckles, her big black eyes glaring at the staircase.

The men all turned as a blue hologram flickered to life midway up the broken staircase.

“Hold your fire,” X said.

The hologram fizzled in and out, partially forming a woman of maybe fifty years. She had a slightly weathered but still beautiful face, and long hair hanging over the front of her shoulders.

“Greetings, traveler,” she said with a dimpled smile. “My name is Jana, and you have arrived at the Trident Facility, established in 2051. I’m sure your journey has been long and arduous, but the hard part is over. You are safe now.”

She beckoned the group to follow her up the stairs.

“Welcome to your new home,” Jana said. “Follow me. We have room for all.”

No one moved.

Jo-Jo didn’t seem to care and was sitting down, uninterested.

“Where is everyone?” X asked the AI.

The woman looked at him and repeated the same message.

X tried something else. “What happened to the other people? And who are these knights?”

The woman gestured again. “Welcome to your new home. We have room for all.”

“I don’t think that’s an AI,” Slayer said. “I think it’s an automated hologram.”

X narrowed his eyes. Was it possible Trinity Station had started as a refuge, only to be discovered by the machines?

Had they still not found the Coral Castle?

Jana fizzled, then repeated the message.

In answer, the hissing ripped through the castle, closer and louder than before.

The team moved out, rifles bristling in all directions. Jo-Jo again studied the walls and overhead.

“What is it?” X asked. “What do you see?”

The monkey’s hair spiked.

X aimed his rifle at the ceiling just as a stone dropped from the wall and clattered on the floor.

A hissing issued from the opening in the wall, where someone or something had made a tunnel.

Jo-Jo reared her head back and let out a piercing howl.

Backpedaling a few feet, X kept his rifle up. Two more stones dropped to the ground.

X didn’t even have time to fire when a black, hairy figure lunged through the opening in the wall. Extending multiple arms, it landed on the chandelier, rocking it like a pendulum.

An eerily humanlike face covered in prickly hair directed its three bulging red eyes across the room. This monster was fast, moving like a spider.

“Open fire!” Forge yelled.

The chandelier kicked out when the beast leaped into the air. X sidestepped another stone that crashed to the floor, then watched the chandelier crush a soldier who wasn’t quick enough.

Laser bolts slammed into the ceiling, dust and stone raining down.

The eight-limbed creature skittered across the ceiling and back into the opening. Jo-Jo pawed at the air, howling and screeching.

Slayer flashed hand signals to the soldiers, who fanned out, aiming lights and weapons at the openings, while a Cazador medic went to help the man under the chandelier.

It was Corporal Khan—alive, but both legs were crushed. He moaned in agony, clearly trying to keep quiet.

Two soldiers helped pull the chandelier off Khan. As soon as he was free, a white rope hissed out of the ceiling and stuck to his chest armor.

The medic grabbed at him but fell away as Khan was yanked off the floor.

“Khan!” Slayer yelled, grabbing a broken leg. Khan let out a howl of agony as the white tendrils reeled him up toward the ceiling.

Several of the soldiers fired as Khan was spun around and around, his screams growing more muffled as the cocoon around him thickened.

Two laser bolts streaked past him.

“Don’t shoot!” Slayer shouted.

“Help me!” Khan wailed.

X tried to get a shot, but he had no angle.

The beast pulled Khan up into the tunnel and out of sight. The agonized screams went on for several seconds, then abruptly stopped.

It was clear then that Khan was dead, and Slayer gave the order to fire.

Laser bolts sizzled into the ceiling in and around the tunnel entrance, and Khan’s corpse fell back down with a meaty thud.

Jo-Jo bolted across the room, back the way they had come.

“Retreat!” X called out. “Everyone, run!”

He stepped back with his rifle as a spider easily twice his size dropped to the tile, slashing at him with two gleaming black limbs while scuttling forward on the other six.

By the time he got his rifle up, a claw had raked across his chest armor, throwing sparks. The force of the blow knocked X down, and the thing was on him.

A long, hairy limb fell severed at his feet, and the beast whirled on General Forge, who swung his cutlass again.

The spider stood on four jointed legs, rising above the red-feathered helmet.

As the creature reared, X threw his hatchet into its exposed back, eliciting an ear-splitting wail. It turned from Forge to stab at X with a sharp forelimb.

Around the room, other monsters had dropped. Six that X could see—almost as many as the soldiers.

“Protect the king!” Forge yelled.

Slayer slid under one of the beasts, thrusting his sword up into the belly, which squirted purple goo on his armor. The monster slumped to the ground, jerking and emitting guttural hisses.

X fired his rifle into the hairy back of the abomination attacking General Forge, blowing out a hunk of flesh and gore. The creature whirled, presenting its fangs and spearing at X with its shiny black arms.

He fired a bolt through the thorax, which popped like a broken egg. The creature sank to the concrete floor in a tangle of hairy limbs.

“Aim for the chest!” X yelled.

The hybrid spiders were fast and strong, with armored limbs and backs, but the soft, bulbous thorax was no match for lasers.

Two of the six beasts bled out from their wounds, but the other four dodged and feinted around the soldiers, avoiding the lasers and blades.

Forge ducked a swinging arm and hacked it off in the same motion. He lopped a second limb and a third, until he got to the fangs. The cutlass blade crunched through an eye, and the thing collapsed.

X fired his laser rifle at a beast scuttling up a wall. As his bolt sheared off a limb, another limb fired a sticky white rope that smacked him in the chest, yanking him forward to the ground, and he dropped the laser rifle. X went for his blaster, but another sticky web hit his arm. The beast leaped down off the wall and went right for him.

A howl rang out, and a blur of spiked black hair jumped over X, slamming against the monster.

“Protect the king!” Forge yelled.

Slayer and Blackburn ran over, adding their armor to the general’s to form a phalanx around their leader, as Jo-Jo rolled on the ground with the creature that had attacked X.

Forge chopped him free of the web, and X got up as Jo-Jo ripped out one of the arachnid’s fangs and stabbed an eye with it.

The crack of weapons echoed around her as she stomped the vaguely humanoid head into pulp.

Slayer and Blackburn helped X up as the other soldiers chased the two remaining hybrid spiders back into the tunnels they had emerged from.

The last one skittered vertically up a wall and jumped up into the opening as bolts and bullets slammed into the stone.

Slayer raised a fist, and the gunfire faded away.

For a moment, no one spoke.

Jo-Jo panted, her chest heaving.

Reaching into his vest, X tossed her his last piece of jerky. She gobbled it down.

All around them, flashlights flitted about the scene of horror. Two more of Forge’s soldiers had met their end.

Sergeant Blackburn gripped his bleeding shoulder. A medic went over, but Blackburn shook his head.

“Está bien,” he said.

Soldiers moved out to check the rest of the injured and collect weapons and ammo from the dead.

Forge watched them for a moment, then walked over to X.

“There could be more monstruos,” Forge said.

“Call in reinforcements,” X said.

Slayer went over to Khan with head bowed.

Within minutes, they heard the echo of boots. Six more soldiers from the convoy arrived.

“Take the bodies back to the trucks,” Slayer said.

He paused again to look at Khan before following X, who motioned for Jo-Jo to lead the way. The animal moved down into an open stairway that led to a basement, or perhaps a dungeon.

A smashed crate lay on the landing below. Rusted, bulging cans littered the floor. The group passed more broken or discarded crates. Someone had taken this route to escape, in a hurry.

They pushed on, down flight after flight, until they were easily six stories below the surface. They came across an open vault. In front of it, a single defector unit lay on the ground, the skull destroyed by a high-caliber round through an eye socket.

Using his light, Slayer checked out the machine, then stepped through the vault door.

Jo-Jo was on the other side, inside a chamber. Not far from another skeletal body—this one a human. Crates, bags, and supplies littered the floor around the man.

He gripped a sword in one hand, and a small book in the other.

X bent down and pulled it from his bony fingers. The binding was flaking apart, and the pages were brittle. He carefully opened it to a note.

It’s late, we have lost the fight, the machines have discovered our refuge. We did everything we could to hold them back, but they are inside now, and we are abandoning Trinity Station to join our other colony at the Coral Castle.

X flipped through the pages, but they were almost all blank, and he didn’t see any maps or indications of where the Coral Castle was located.

He gritted his teeth in frustration as he tucked the book into his vest.

Slayer waved him over to a tunnel that opened to another winding stone stairwell. Jo-Jo was already heading up.

X followed, and a few minutes later he and Jo-Jo stepped out into the darkness at the top of a tower.

He looked to the sky, thinking of the Hell Divers in the radioactive ruins of Brisbane. Then he thought of Michael and the citizens of the Vanguard Islands, faced with a dwindling food supply.

They were counting on the Hell Divers, but also on King Xavier and the Vanguard army. But the more time X spent out here looking for the Coral Castle, the more ammo, fuel, and, most importantly, people he sacrificed.

In the courtyard below, the bodies were being stripped of their armor and gear. Three more men were not coming home.

General Forge stepped up into the turret a few minutes later.

“The convoy will be ready to go soon,” he said. “There’s nothing else here, King Xavier.”

X heaved a sigh. “Maybe the Coral Castle isn’t out there, or maybe it was and everyone’s dead now,” he said. “Even if it is still out there, maybe it’s not worth finding.”

X shook his head and looked to his confidant and friend.

Jo-Jo grunted and started back down the stairs, leaving the two men.

“What should we do, General?” X asked.

“I follow you to hell, King Xavier. But only you can give the order.”

twenty-one

Michael had rushed to oil rig 15 with an escort of guards. He still didn’t know the identities of the two murder victims. With every passing second, his anxiety grew. What if the dead kid was Alton?

The last he saw the boy was yesterday afternoon when Alton returned to his quarters after a long day helping Michael on the Sea Wolf.

When Michael finally got to rig 15, the friendly banter, laughter, and music that usually greeted him here were absent. Militia guards patrolled the decks. Sad and frightened eyes stared down from balconies.

Seeing Michael, some of the locals shouted comments and questions about rations and water. Morale was already low here. The last thing they needed was violence.

Ton, Victor, and Wynn accompanied Michael to the community deck, where hundreds of people had lived after the storms displaced them from their homes on other decks.

The entrance was guarded by a group of locals, but Michael didn’t see Charmer or Oliver among them. That was great; he wasn’t in the mood to deal with either the con artist or the asshole.

Wynn instructed the locals to let them through, but the two main guards seemed hesitant—even with the three militia guards present.

“We still haven’t been let in, Lieutenant,” said one of the men.

“I’m not going to ask twice,” Wynn said. He stepped up to the locals. “We have jurisdiction on this rig, so make a path.”

“We have orders to stay put,” said the guard.

“From whom?” Wynn asked.

“Ray, let them through.”

Striding down the passage was the man Michael least wanted to see: Charmer, with two henchmen.

They walked over to Michael.

“Been a brutal morning here, Chief Everhart,” Charmer said with a sigh.

Michael put aside his anger about the opal “gift” to focus on the murders. He was still terrified Alton might be among the dead.

“What happened?” Michael asked.

“Follow me,” Charmer said.

The group blocking the entrance backed away, letting Charmer, Wynn, and Michael through. Ton and Victor stayed put, by Michael’s order.

When he turned back to Charmer, the man was heading right toward the quarters where Alton had lived with his mother.

No, please, no, Michael thought. He took off his red hat, holding it against his thumping heart.

Just past the tiny quarters, an adult body lay sprawled facedown. Charmer crouched near the body.

Even from where he stood, Michael could see the cause of death: blunt force trauma to the back of the head.

Then he saw something almost as shocking as the man’s caved-in skull. A coiled leather whip was attached to his duty belt. The same whip Oliver carried.

Charmer looked up, meeting Michael’s gaze.

“Oliver was a good man, and whoever did this is going to pay,” he said in a low, angry voice. He stood and opened the drape to the stall on their left.

A boy lay in the bed.

Michael saw right away that it wasn’t Alton, but Nez, Oliver’s son.

“Dear God,” Michael whispered.

“God had nothing to do with this bloody mess,” Charmer growled.

Wynn stepped up, whispering a curse.

As the initial horror faded, Michael replayed the scene in his mind. Whoever had done this first surprised the man, hitting him from behind, and then killed the boy. The only consolation was that the child had died in his sleep. But still, the cold-blooded nature of the crime was hard to fathom.

It was brutal even for the violent Cazadores, and children were always off-limits for them. They revered their young, who were the future.

“Did anyone see what happened?” Michael asked.

“Your little friend Alton was the closest,” Charmer said. “But no one can find him.”

Michael felt his heart flutter.

Alton couldn’t possibly be responsible for this . . . right?

Michael didn’t want to believe it, but there was a motive that he couldn’t ignore. Alton and Nez had fought, and Oliver had challenged Michael. Alton had also seen Oliver give Layla the opal.

Alton had an anger problem, and while Michael didn’t believe he was capable of murder, he could conceivably have done this out of revenge or, in some perverse way, to impress Michael.

No, that’s not possible.

Michael turned back to the passage. Ton and Victor had joined them despite his orders. They both stared wide-eyed at the dead child.

Normally, the men weren’t disturbed too easily, but this crime was gruesome even for them.

“Chief,” Charmer said.

“I’m sorry, I just can’t believe this,” Michael said.

“Hard to believe, but we’ll find the person or persons responsible, I can promise you that.”

“Yes, we will,” Wynn said. “My people are already on it.”

“I don’t think I need to tell you that we will be doing our own investigation,” Charmer said. “Of course, you have jurisdiction, but . . .”

“Feel free,” Michael said before Wynn could respond. “We should be united in finding whoever did this.”

Even if it’s Alton . . .

“I appreciate that, Chief,” Charmer said.

Michael wanted to mention the rock burning a hole in his pocket, but now was not the time. One thing among many that X had taught him: there was always a best moment to have a confrontation, and a leader had to choose carefully.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Michael said.

“Thank you.” Charmer bent back to Oliver’s corpse while Michael left with his entourage. He almost felt bad for the guy now. Sure, Michael had problems with Charmer’s burly minion, but he didn’t want him to die. And the boy’s death hit Michael hard.

Charmer was right about one thing: whoever did this was going to pay.

When they were clear of the locals, Michael pulled Wynn aside in an empty hallway.

“We need to find Alton,” he said. “He must know what happened.”

“Sir,” Wynn said, not finishing his thought.

“What?”

“What if Alton did this?”

“Then we deal with it,” Michael said.

“I sure hope he didn’t. Damn it. This is insane.”

“Keep cool. That’s what we need right now.”

“Yes, sir, I will find him.”

Wynn started off, but Michael called after him.

“Wait, Lieutenant, I’m coming, too.”

“For what? We can handle the search . . . Oh.” Wynn softened. “Sir, this isn’t your fault. You have done all you can to help that kid.”

“Not all. He could have stayed with us.”

Michael started up a ladder to begin combing the decks. Ton and Victor helped, joining militia soldiers and locals to look for Alton.

Eventually, Michael got to the top platform where he put on his hat again.

In the newly planted beds topping the rig, plants extended their stems and leaves toward the sun.

Michael scanned the broad rooftop for Alton. Guards looked down the rows of young plants. There was nowhere to hide here besides the toolsheds. Unless the boy jumped.

But jumping from the top would mean certain death.

He hoped Alton was smart enough to know that, but Michael remembered how invincible he himself felt at that age. Hell, Michael wore a tin hat that twisted at the top, because he thought it would protect him.

He went from shack to shack, opening doors, finding nothing.

By midafternoon, the sun was blazing high in the sky and there was still no sign of Alton. Now Michael was starting to think he had jumped off the rig. If that was the case, and the boy had drowned, they might never know the truth about what happened.

Having searched all the way across the upper deck, Michael went to the rail and peered into the clear water.

Two kayaks bobbed, a militia guard in each, searching the waves.

The radio on Michael’s vest buzzed.

“Chief, it’s Pedro. I have incoming message for you from Director Mintel at Outpost Gateway.”

“Copy. I’m on my way back to the capitol tower.”

“I’ll handle things here,” Wynn said.

“Keep me updated.”

Leaving Wynn to the search, Michael climbed back down to the Sea Wolf with Ton and Victor. The ride back to the capitol tower gave Michael plenty of time to think about whatever message awaited him, and about Alton. He couldn’t bring himself to believe that the boy could commit such a heinous crime.

Back at the command center, Pedro got up from the chair in front of the radio. Wincing, he rubbed his back.

“You still have contact?” Michael asked.

“Sim,” Pedro replied, nodding.

Michael pulled up the chair and picked up the receiver. “Rodger, this is Michael, do you copy? Over.”

A few seconds of static passed before his faint voice came over the comms.

“Copy, Michael. How goes it in the sunshine? ”

“Going fine,” Michael lied. “How about there? ”

“We continue to have radiation spikes, and now we’re picking up something on the seismograph that caused us to pull everyone back to our side of the canal.”

“Damn. What do you think is causing it?”

“I’m not sure, but for now I’m not deploying any salvage teams beyond the canal.”

“Good call. Have you heard anything from King Xavier or the Hell Divers?”

After a loud static crack, he heard, “Nothing since we talked last.”

Michael stared at the rigs in the shimmering heat. Somewhere out there, the Hell Divers and King Xavier were fighting to keep this place alive.

“Good news is, we’re making major progress establishing power and critical systems,” Rodger said. “We’re installing the mobile desalination units very soon after we finish the ditches.”

“That is good news.” Michael paused, then added, “Rodger, I need you to try and get a message through to King Xavier.”

“Okay, what is it? ”

Bringing the radio back up to his mouth, Michael reported the murders on rig 15.

“Damn,” Rodger said.

“Tell King Xavier to contact me as soon as possible.”

“I will. You hang in there, Tin.”

“You, too, Rodge.”

The hatch opened, and Michael turned as Steve stepped inside. The deputy chief’s normally cheery face was dour.

“Sir, we have a problem,” Steve said.

Imulah walked in a moment later, hands cupped behind his back.

“What is it?” Michael asked.

“You asked me to tell you if I hear anything about the other rigs,” said the scribe. “There is a new rumor.”

“What now?”

Imulah pulled his hands away from his back. “That Alton killed Oliver and his son, Nez, and that he had help doing it.”

* * * * *

Twelve years ago . . .

Kade sat in the cold darkness, shivering. He had spent the day searching the ITC Victory but found no sign of his wife and sons.

Not long after the search started, it had ended, with the machines forcing the group back to camp.

A dust storm had rolled across the plains, almost trapping them before they could get back inside the walls. The wind howled outside the barred windows of the building where Kade and the other survivors were being held prisoner.

He sat alone while the others huddled together for warmth.

Captain Rolo had motioned to him a few times, but Kade ignored the man. He wasn’t in charge anymore. None of them were.

Kade sat with his back to the wall, listening to the grit blow against the window.

“Food!” someone cried.

All thirty people shot up and rushed over to the steel door sealing off the open room.

But wait. He wasn’t the only one still sitting while the others rushed for the bowls of soup. Another man, from a different airship, lay curled up in a fetal position, shaking and taking in raspy breaths.

For the first few nights, a woman had brought the man a bowl, but tonight that woman didn’t return. Kade saw her across the room, looking away in shame.

The man, who couldn’t be much older than Kade, tried to get up when he must have realized she wasn’t coming to feed him.

He managed to sit, his sunken eyes searching the room and settling on her. A deep sigh left his mouth, almost like relief that the agony would soon be over.

His eyes locked with Kade’s, a moment of shared pain passing between them. He nodded as if to say it’s okay, then closed his eyes to go to sleep.

Kade watched the rest of the prisoners stand in line with their bowls. A machine dispensed the soup from a tap into each bowl. Kade remained where he was, not hungry.

Footsteps tapped over to him, and Charmer bent down with a bowl.

“You need to eat,” he said. “We need you.”

Kade sat up. “For what?”

“Just eat,” Charmer insisted. He handed Kade a bowl and went back to speaking in hushed tones with Captain Rolo.

It didn’t matter to Kade what they said about him. He had already lost his wife. Sometimes, the pain was so bad he felt like calling it quits, but nothing mattered except finding his sons.

Kade closed his eyes, trying to sleep—the only refuge from the pain.

The storm’s buffeting distracted him, and his thoughts slowed as he began to nod off.

He awoke to voices, and sunlight streaming through the window.

“Machines are coming,” someone said.

Everyone scrambled up off the ground to gather in a neat line as they had been instructed. When they moved away from their sleeping pads, Kade saw the emaciated sick man, still curled up in a fetal position.

This morning, he wasn’t breathing.

The woman who had fed him so many times walked over and put a finger to his neck. She slowly pulled her hand away and stared for a moment. Then she pulled the thin blanket up over his bony features.

She looked at Kade a moment, then walked away.

“Let’s go, Kade,” said Captain Rolo. “Get in line.”

Kade pushed himself up and slowly got into position next to the captain.

“You better get your head on right,” Rolo said. “We have to stick together.”

The door clicked, and one of the machines strode inside.

“The following prisoners, report outside in five minutes,” it said, and proceeded to read off the numbers seared into their wrists.

Kade heard his number. By the time he got outside, the wind had died, and drifted sand and dust covered the bare ground.

The group of twenty people mustered here were led away from the building to a crate of breathing masks. Kade grabbed one, fastened it on, and buttoned his coat. They were once again led outside the gates, but this time a tank with six segmented limbs accompanied them.

It clanked down the road, its laser barrels trained on the horizon, where two drones abruptly lit out over the hills.

“That’s what shot down our ship, isn’t it?”

Kade looked over to the voice. It was Joey, the wannabee Hell Diver.

“I’m pretty sure I can outrun the machines, but not sure about that thing, and definitely not those drones,” he said. “We’d have to shoot them down first.”

“Don’t say shit like that,” Kade said.

“I have a plan, and Captain Rolo is on board.”

Anger boiled through Kade when he realized that was what Captain Rolo had likely been discussing with Charmer last night. Joey had also been there, listening to the hushed conversation.

Not conversation, Kade realized.

Orders.

It was captain’s orders that had brought them to this hell.

Kade didn’t blame Rolo for that—hell, it was Team Wrangler that provided the trail of bread crumbs to this place. From the museum to Mount Rushmore. Those diving missions had uncovered evidence that this was a habitable place where his people could start over. But the lie had almost killed them all, and Kade knew that fighting back was futile.

He walked faster, catching up with Joey.

“Stick with me today, kid,” he said.

Joey looked over his shoulder at Captain Rolo.

The ground shook as the tank picked up speed, moving faster, almost like a six-legged deer galloping across the arid terrain. A plume of dust kicked up behind the monstrous machine as it disappeared over the next hill.

A few minutes later, the group of prisoners crested the same hill and started down the other side. The tank was already in position outside the wrecked airship, its guns trained on the opening where the machines were sending Kade and the others.

They were exploring the upper decks of the port side, which would get Kade closer to where his family would have been sheltering during the attack.

His empty gut sank as he braced himself for what he might find today. But he needed resolution, even if it meant confirming his family was dead.

Joey and Charmer were the first ones to the sealed hatch on the port side. A defector stood there, facing the group.

“Today you search for electronics and batteries,” said the machine. “Any prisoner found taking anything else will meet with severe consequences.”

No one replied, but Kade knew what the other people were thinking: What if someone found food? Would the machines kill them if they ate it or stashed it away?

Kade squeezed up through a few people to get next to Joey. He didn’t want to see the kid do something stupid.

“Joey,” Kade said. “Whatever it is Captain Rolo told you to do, don’t. He doesn’t understand . . .”

A machine turned down the hallway to his right, and Kade lowered his head toward the deck. He kept moving, following the others into a burned passage with a sagging overhead.

The group split up in the next wing, heading out into various parts of the engineering section. Kade tried to get his bearings as they entered the darkened engine compartment.

“My God,” Charmer said, raising his wrist to his mask.

Kade stopped in the entrance to the room as the stench of putrefying flesh filtered through the masks the machines had given them. He looked left, seeing the passage was clear, then right. Also clear.

No machines.

Charmer continued into the ship’s command center, shining his flashlight over the rotting bodies of his former staff. Joey went inside with him, but Kade stepped out.

Before they could stop him, he took off down the hallway, ducking under electrical wires. At the intersection, he stopped to listen for the machines.

Then he glanced around the corner. Two prisoners walked past at the other end of the passage, disappearing into another corridor.

Kade turned off his flashlight and slipped into the passageway, searching for the shelter assigned to his family during the mission.

He found it a minute later. The hatch was ajar.

Maybe they had made it out . . .

He heard a hushed voice.

“Kade.”

He turned toward Charmer, who approached with Joey.

“Don’t,” Charmer said. “You won’t find anything good in there.”

“How do you know?” Kade asked.

Joey reached out as Kade went for the shelter.

The stench hit him long before he reached the hatch. Even through his mask filter, it was almost unbearable.

Kade pried the hatch open farther and stepped inside to find the shelter full of bodies, still racked in, withered and burned like unripened cornstalks in a fire.

He fell to his knees.

“I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry,” Kade mumbled.

He heard footsteps behind him, then hushed voices.

“I’m sorry, Kade,” Charmer said.

“You knew?” Kade choked out.

“I opened the hatch after we crashed. I would have saved them if I could.”

He put a bandaged hand on Kade’s shoulder.

Joey walked in. “I’ll help you take them down,” he said.

The clank of metal feet stopped the kid. They both turned as a defector walked past the hatch.

Kade turned away from his dead family and made for the defector, only for both Charmer and Joey to grab him. A hand went around his mouth, and both men held him as he struggled. Normally, Kade would have been able to break free, but he was weak from not eating, and his broken heart made him feel numb.

“Don’t do anything stupid,” Charmer whispered.

“Yeah, like you told me,” Joey said. “You’ll have your chance.”

Kade squirmed as the clanking continued. He had prepared for this, had known they were almost certainly dead, but seeing them like this . . .

Tears burst from his eyes as Joey and Charmer held him.

“Calm down,” Charmer said. “Save your anger and pain.”

He fought a little longer before finally slumping in their grip and letting out a defeated sigh.

“I’m going to let you go and show you something, but you must promise not to try anything suicidal, okay?” Charmer said. “Nod if you agree.”

Kade let out another sigh and then gave a grudging nod.

Pulling one hand off Kade, Charmer took a small metal sphere from one of the bags the machines had given them to collect scavenged items.

“I’m going to turn this into an EMP grenade,” he said. “You understand what I’m saying?”

Kade stared at it before nodding again.

“Good,” Charmer said. “Now, let me help get your family down.”

Joey and Charmer let Kade go, and he fell to his knees, his eyes blurring from the tears.

Clanking echoed behind him.

“It’s coming back,” Joey said.

The defector arrived a moment later. A red light flashed out and scanned the three men, then the bag that Charmer held.

It began to raise its laser rifle, and in that moment Kade had conflicting thoughts. He wanted to die by the laser, and he wanted to make a grab for the weapon and turn it on the machine.

But the defector didn’t give him a chance for either. It backed up into the hallway, and the light blinked off.

“Proceed with the batteries outside,” it said.

Kade stood there staring while Charmer and Joey let out sighs of relief. They moved back to the racks and helped take down the burned and rotting bodies of Kade’s wife and sons. When they were all on the deck, Kade covered each of them with burned clothing he had scavenged, and with his tears.

He covered Mikah last. Staring at the burned features that he no longer recognized, he whispered, “I’ll be with you soon. Promise.”

Standing, he turned to the men.

“Tell Captain Rolo I’m up for whatever he’s got planned,” Kade said.

* * * * *

Present day

Kade’s eyelids popped open to dim light and the sound of muffled voices.

“I think he’s coming to,” someone said.

“Commander, can you hear me?” said someone else.

“Kade, it’s me, Tia.”

Blurred faces hovered over him.

He could feel a sense of motion and jolting, as in a vehicle. Each bump sent a sharp pain up his leg.

“Take it easy,” said another familiar voice. “You’re going to be okay, but you need to relax.”

It was Magnolia. She leaned down with a monitor that was hooked up to his right arm. Past the cords, he saw his swollen leg. Everything from the knee down was puffed out like some sort of deformed vegetable.

Memories from the jungle rushed through him, but they ended at the beach where he had led his team into quicksand.

“How’d you find us?” Kade whispered.

“Some luck, some skill,” Magnolia said. “But we got you out. You’re alive because Tia got the antivenin in you before you got stuck. We’ve since started an antibiotic, and you should make a full recovery.”

“Where are we now?”

“Making our way back to your APC. Going to strip everything valuable and send it back up to the airship in a crate. You’re going with it.”

“No,” Kade mumbled. “I’m going to . . .”

“You need a doctor,” Tia said.

He tried to sit up but fell back to the floor.

“Exactly,” Tia said.

“No, this ain’t shit,” Kade scoffed. “I’ve been through worse.”

“Maybe, but we can’t afford to have you holding us back,” Magnolia said. “Sorry, mate, but you’re going back to the airship.”

“Let Cowboy fight,” boomed a deep voice.

Kade turned toward Gran Jefe, who was sitting on a bench.

“We need Cowboy,” Gran Jefe said.

Magnolia ignored them and moved over to Arlo, who was checking Kade’s gear and suit.

“Sure you’re up for this?” Magnolia asked.

“First off, I’m the fastest, and second off, I am going to live up to my nickname,” Arlo replied. “Now, if you would please move, I’m ready to go.”

“Almost there,” Edgar said from the front of the APC.

Magnolia backed away from the hatch to give Gran Jefe some room to maneuver in the cramped troop hold.

“Wait,” she said. “Check your suits and get Kade buttoned up.”

They put a helmet back on Kade, and he brought up his wrist computer to check the suit’s integrity. The black tape they had wrapped around his swollen leg had done the trick, sealing up his suit again.

“I’m good,” he mumbled.

Magnolia leaned down to double-check.

“Remember, get the diesel fuel, food, and anything else you can salvage into a supply crate to send back up to the airship for reuse,” she said.

Arlo put up a salute, and Gran Jefe’s massive helmet dipped in accord.

“Good luck,” Magnolia said.

Kade got up, doing his best to fight the pain. He watched as the two divers hopped out and ran into the toxic jungle.

They would need plenty of luck out there.

twenty-two

X stood in the turret of the tank as it rolled up the path along the waterfront.

On the horizon, he could see the Immortal. The supercarrier had finally arrived.

He climbed down from the turret with Jo-Jo, who followed him over to Point Cartwright Lighthouse. They passed the red dome tents and the guards patrolling around the camp. There were dozens more soldiers now.

X looked down from the bluff to the mutant wasteland they had just fought their way across, losing more troops along the way.

They had come to the Sunshine Coast to search for the Coral Castle, but like many promising leads in the wastes, it had brought only death.

Slayer walked over. He hadn’t said much since they finally left the Sunshine Castle.

“I’m sorry about Khan,” X said.

“Death is part of this life,” Slayer said. “Khan, Daunte, and the others died doing their duty, like you Hell Divers do. Have we heard anything from them, by the way?”

“Negative.”

X knew, the longer they went without contact, the worse the divers’ odds for returning grew.

And it wasn’t just the divers on his mind. Too much time was passing back at the islands. X feared that Michael would soon face an uprising or, at the very least, small violent encounters.

General Forge joined them back at the command tent, where Jo-Jo waited outside.

At the war table, X looked over the maps. He retraced their steps, recalling each of their missions. Each had led to more mysteries, more death. They could not afford any more losses.

“I’ve made a decision,” he finally said.

Forge and Slayer stiffened.

“We’ve sacrificed too much here,” X said. “I won’t risk more lives. Our job now is to support the Hell Divers.”

Slayer said nothing, perhaps because he wanted to stay and search and fight. Forge nodded his feathered helmet.

“Break camp. We’re returning to the Immortal,” X said.

And just like that, they were leaving this place.

An hour later, they were on a raft, speeding toward the supercarrier, which loomed above them like a floating city. At the stern, X led Jo-Jo to the aft elevator deck with the soldiers who had accompanied them.

Jo-Jo jumped off with ease.

Once they were all on, the elevator rose up the stern.

At the top, Miles stood waiting. The dog got down on his haunches, pawing the air and straining at the leash that Corporal Valeria Delgado held. X ran over and got down on his knees, hugging his dog. He didn’t care if anyone judged him for it. He had absolutely zero shits to give.

“How is he?” X asked.

Valeria eased up on the leash.

“His internal injury was not bad,” she said. “His sprain is healing already, but I suggest he refrain from anything beyond walking.”

“Yeah, I agree.”

Jo-Jo knuckle-walked over, sniffing Miles. The dog let out a playful whine, tail whipping again. The animals sniffed each other and then turned to X, probably angling for a treat.

X laughed. “Thank you, Corporal,” he said.

“He’s a good perro,” Valeria said. “I wish we have more at the islands. I always love animals. All types, but dogs are best.”

X enjoyed talking to someone who felt the same way about animals, but his mind was burdened. He was retreating, running like a coward, but he couldn’t keep taking losses.

They went through their normal quarantine process and left Miles and Jo-Jo with Valeria and a technician. X changed into clean clothes and went straight to the CIC.

He was exhausted, injured, and feeling about ninety years old. The trek to the bridge felt more like a walk of shame, but when he got there, the smiling face of Timothy Pepper greeted him.

“Good morning, King Xavier. It’s so nice to see you!” he said. “You look well.”

“You’re a crappy liar, Pepper.”

X strode through the bustling space full of officers and crew members monitoring various screens. Captain Two Skulls pounded his chest armor when he saw X.

“Captain,” X said.

“Glad you made it back, sir.”

X felt grumpy and pissed. “After-action report as soon as General Forge returns,” he said.

Digital maps of the Sunshine Coast were on the mounted screens inside the briefing room. The areas the Barracudas had searched were marked off.

In the glow of Timothy’s hologram stood General Forge, Captain Two Skulls, and Lieutenant Slayer. Sergeant Blackburn joined them a few minutes later.

“Lo siento,” he said. “Sorry.”

“No prob,” X said.

He went over to the maps.

“We have yet to find the location of the Coral Castle,” he said, “but we did find the Sunshine Castle, or what they called Trident Station. We believe this was a refuge for people who came here in search of salvation. But the machines discovered it, forcing them to abandon it.”

X pointed to ports at the Maroochy and Mooloolah Rivers. “The Sea Sprite came here, along with many other people over the years, for the same thing we did. And I believe some of them found the Sunshine Castle and probably made it to the Coral Castle; however, many, like the Cazador crew, were killed by the monsters that inhabit this area.”

He brought up images of Buderim Forest Park and the waterfall where they found hundreds of bones and the knight who, X now believed, had died trying to protect those people.

“I’m calling off the search for now. Unless we find other intel, I won’t risk more soldiers or resources.”

“King Xavier, we did discover something on our journey here,” Timothy said.

“And you’re just telling me this now?” X asked.

“I’m sorry, sir. I was waiting for you to finish talking.”

“Let’s hear it.”

Timothy looked toward one of the maps, which changed to drone footage.

“One of the drones located something unusual at a coral reef about thirty miles from here,” he continued.

X got his first glimpse of the curving hull of a vessel.

“It’s a shipwreck,” he said.

“Not exactly,” Timothy said. “I believe this is a submarine. Based on the shape, I’ve been able to deduce a fifty percent probability that this is an ITC Spartan-class sub, model 5.”

“I’m assuming there is a reason you’re telling me this, because there’s no way we’re going to find anything useful on that, right?”

“Wrong, sir.”

“Okay, you have my attention, Pepper.”

Timothy pulled up the design.

“The ITC Dagger was the largest submarine ever built,” he said. “With a crew of two hundred fifty sailors, this submarine was almost one hundred thousand tons and is two hundred fifty meters long.”

“Holy shit, that is big!”

“The Dagger was built for deep-sea research but was later repurposed for—”

“War, what else?” X interrupted.

“Precisely.” Timothy changed to the blueprints showing the weapons systems. “King Xavier, the Dagger was armed with munitions that could prove very useful to our dwindling arsenal.”

X raised a brow. It was the first good news, and it couldn’t have come at a better time. They desperately needed the munitions.

“Pepper, plot a course,” X said.

“Aye, aye, sir. We can be there in about an hour, and in the meantime, I will continue to work on establishing contact with Outpost Gateway and the airship Vanguard.”

“Good, and make sure our diving teams are ready to go once we get to the sub.”

Three hours later, the Immortal was in the Coral Sea, about ten miles off Moreton Island.

X could see the general area where the ITC Dagger was still submerged. It wasn’t deep water, only about sixty or seventy feet.

He couldn’t help but wonder how this sub came to be lodged here, of all places. Until they explored it, they wouldn’t have an answer.

And X was preparing to do just that.

He took the ladders down to the lower decks until he reached a cargo hold at the stern. Through an open hatch, he heard voices and clanking tools.

X stepped out onto a balcony overlooking the cargo hold, where two teams were finalizing their gear checks. On the left, Slayer and the three other Barracudas wore waterproof suits and oxygen tanks. They were armed with spearguns.

“You sure you’re up for this?” X asked Slayer.

“We’re the best-trained squad left,” Slayer said. “We’ll get the job done.”

Another three-man team had on similar diving suits with masks and air tanks. But these weren’t soldiers. They were Cazador divers, trained in the art of salvage in old-world cities buried by the tsunamis.

Today they weren’t free-diving but would instead use a pair of SEAL Delivery Vehicles. The manned submersibles were swimmer-delivery vehicles that two operators could use on clandestine operations where they needed to deliver and export equipment.

On the deck below were three similar-looking submersibles that belonged to the Cazador dive teams and, apparently, had been in their possession for centuries. The two SDVs, however, were brand-new, discovered on the Immortal.

“Attention!” Slayer shouted.

General Forge entered the launch bay and explained that the mission was to find access to the submarine and locate the materiel. The hard part would be removing the munitions safely and loading them on the ship.

Timothy’s hologram emerged.

“I’ve studied the first images of the sub, and there doesn’t appear to be any external damage,” he reported. “The weapons contained in that submarine are powerful enough to erase us and everything within a fifty-mile radius if they were to detonate, so I urge you to proceed with the utmost caution.”

The teams all nodded, and minutes later, they headed aft to the elevator deck.

“Watch your six, Slayer,” X said.

The lieutenant raised a hand and gave a nod before leading the three Barracudas out with the divers onto the ramp. The elevator deck started down, and the men and submersibles disappeared below.

X went back to the command center, where a monitor, split into four sections, showed live feeds from the mounted cameras the divers wore. Another monitor showed what X assumed was the feed from the drone Timothy had deployed earlier.

“I’m performing a second scan for significant multicellular life,” the AI said. “This is a remarkable ecosystem, with corals providing refuge to millions of creatures, but so far I’m not seeing anything that will endanger our teams.”

General Forge stepped up for a look.

“What do you think?” X asked.

“I think we need bigger guns.”

“Yeah. Let’s just hope we don’t blow ourselves up.”

X turned to Timothy. “Clear the teams for launch, Pepper.”

“On it, sir, and by the way, I’ve established communication with Director Rodger Mintel at Outpost Gateway.”

“Shit, why didn’t you tell me?”

“He is going to try again in ten minutes, sir,” Timothy said. “Apparently, he had to step back outside for something.”

“Damn it, Pepper, you could have led with that.”

X shook his head and stepped over to the monitors to watch the teams lowering toward the water on the open elevator deck.

“Launching in ten, nine, eight seconds,” Timothy said.

At one, the ramp splashed into the ocean, and the divers maneuvered the submersibles into the murky water. X watched the separate feeds as the enclosed capsules carrying the four soldiers dived toward the ITC Dagger. The divers steered the vehicles deeper into the dark water.

Soon, they came within view of the submarine’s elongated cigar shape.

“There she is,” he whispered.

“Approaching stern,” Slayer said over the team comms.

The SDVs moved over the top of the submarine to hover over the sail. A radio antenna rose off the top.

“We’ve located the hatch,” Slayer said. “Engaging now.”

X switched to that feed, watching as the lieutenant swam out the open door of the SDV and down toward the hatch located on the top of the sail.

“Sir, Rodger is on the horn for you now,” Timothy said.

“Damn it, Pepper,” X said, hurrying over to the radio equipment.

“Rodge, this is X,” he said, keeping an eye on the monitors. “I don’t have much time, so let’s make this quick. How are things?”

“Good to talk to you, too, sir,” Rodger replied. “Things are okay here. The normal radiation spikes and some seismic readings, but no attacks and no major issues installing the desalination plumbing network.”

X took advantage of the short pause to watch Slayer open the hatch and slip down inside.

“Bad news from the Vanguard Islands, though,” Rodger announced.

“Give it to me,” said X.

“They’ve lost five batches of fish in the past week, and this morning there was a double murder on rig 15. A father and son.”

Just as X had suspected, time was running out. Conditions were deteriorating and violence wouldn’t be long in coming.

“Sir, do you have any information on the Hell Divers?”

X didn’t want to give any information over the comms that could be intercepted and sent back to the Vanguard Islands to make things worse yet. But he also didn’t want to leave Rodger hanging.

“They’re still on the surface,” X said, deciding less was better.

“Okay, sir, is there something you would like me to relay to Michael?” Rodger asked.

Shouting suddenly came from across the CIC. X rose to his feet to see a flurry of motion on one of the monitors.

“Hold on, Rodger,” X said.

More screams broke from the Barracudas’ channel. X got up and dashed over to the monitors just as an inky cloud of something filled the feed. A scaly fish the size of a human head darted by.

Shouts surged from the comms, and more of the inky fluid that had to be blood surrounded the divers and soldiers outside the SDV.

“Close the hatches!” someone yelled.

“Timothy, what the fuck!” X shouted. “What is—”

“Those are piranhas,” said a voice behind X.

He watched in horror as one of the helmet cams moved toward a diver in the front of the SDV. A dozen flattish orange fish the size of dinner plates ripped into his suit. They bolted away, leaving nothing but bones and a murk of blood.

One of the divers tried to pull the hatch shut, but the fish squeezed inside, prompting crackly screams of agony on the comms.

“Get them out of there!” X yelled.

He looked on, feeling helpless as the officers around him monitored the situation.

Slayer had already sprung into action, pulling men out of the SDV and down into the hatch of the sub. Three soldiers had already swum inside, but a fourth struggled outside the hatch. Piranhas chomped on his armor and ripped flesh out of the gaps.

Slayer thrust his cutlass at one of the fish, spearing the disk-shaped body. It flapped on the blade as he grabbed the soldier and pulled him into the hatch.

It closed, and darkness filled the monitor.

A moment of silence passed before heavy breathing came over the comm.

“Lieutenant,” X said into his headset.

Nothing.

“Lieutenant, do you copy?”

“Copy, King Xavier,” Slayer replied in a quiet voice.

“Stay put. We’ll find a way to get to you.”

There was another pause.

“No, don’t send anyone else down here,” Slayer said softly. “I don’t think we’re alone in here.”

* * * * *

Pounding on the hatch startled Michael awake.

He sat up and reached for his blaster, glancing at the time on his wrist computer—just after three in the morning.

For a moment, he sat there, dazed.

Was this just another nightmare, or was he actually . . .

The pounding came again.

This was no dream.

“Tin, what is it?” Layla said.

Michael grabbed the blaster and slid out of bed, tiptoeing across the room in an almost exact re-creation of the nightmare that continued to wake him most nights. The cold tiles under his feet confirmed this was not a dream.

He moved past the cribs where Bray and Rhino Jr. slept, oblivious to the noise.

Layla rushed over to check on them while Michael aimed the gun across the room. He strode over, his heart pounding.

“Chief,” a voice said. “Chief, open up.”

The voice was familiar.

“Is that . . .” Michael lowered the weapon. Pulling the lever on the hatch, he found Alton standing outside.

“Chief,” the boy said, reaching out and wrapping his arms around Michael.

Michael put an arm around him and looked outside in both directions. Footsteps were coming, and loud panting.

Victor rounded the corner a moment later, cutlass in hand, eyes wide in the glow of candlelight.

He ran over, staring at Michael and then Alton.

Alton leaned against Michael, sobbing.

“I’m sorry,” Victor said. “He sneaked past me.”

“It’s okay,” Michael said. “He has a habit of doing that lately.”

He patted Alton on the back.

“Stay here and let me know if anyone’s coming,” Michael said.

Victor nodded and stepped in front of the door as Michael closed it. He pulled back to look Alton up and down.

The boy was soaked, his hair washed down over his forehead and eyes. He brushed it back and looked at Michael with eyes that were not those of a killer.

“Alton, where have you been?” Michael asked.

The answer was obvious. The boy had swum here or stowed away on a boat.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, Chief,” Alton said. “I didn’t know where else to come. I’m scared. I know I should be strong, but I’m scared.”

Layla stepped up behind them, rocking Rhino Jr. against her chest. Bray was in his crib, looking over in the moonlight.

“Hi, Alton,” Layla said soothingly. “You’re safe here, okay?”

He managed a nod.

“Give us a minute,” Michael said.

Layla went back into the bedroom with Rhino Jr., and Michael led Alton into the small kitchen with a window on the ocean. Wet clothing clung to him, dripping on the floor.

“Alton, I need you to tell me everything that happened on the rig yesterday,” Michael said. “I need to know how Oliver and Nez died.”

Alton sucked in a deep breath. “I was sleeping when I heard a sound like a thump,” he said. “I pulled back the drape and saw a soldier.”

“What kind of a soldier?”

“A man with armor.”

“Okay, but like a militia soldier, or a Cazador soldier?”

“A sky-person soldier.”

Michael narrowed his eyes at Alton.

“The soldier was standing over Oliver and then bent down and pulled something from his pocket,” Alton said. “Then he went into the room and I heard another thump.”

Michael could picture it in his mind, and imagined the soldier bashing the kid while he slept.

“What did this soldier take from the man he hit?” Michael asked.

“I don’t know. I didn’t see it.”

“Did you see his face?”

“No, he had a mask on.”

Michael crouched in front of Alton, looking him in the eye. “Is there anything else?”

“No. I stayed in my bed until the man left. I . . .” Alton whimpered.

“It’s okay, buddy. You’re safe here.”

“I went and saw Nez and feared I would be blamed. So I ran. I ran and hid.”

Michael could tell from his eyes this was no lie. He pulled Alton close and hugged him.

“It’s going to be okay,” he said.

Footsteps sounded in the hallway, and Michael rose to look over Alton’s head.

Victor opened the door and stepped in. “Someone’s coming,” he said.

“Okay, stall them,” Michael said.

He led Alton into the bedroom and closed the door.

“Layla, I need you to watch Alton for me, okay?”

“Of course.”

“Alton, you stay here and don’t move, okay? Do what Layla says, too.”

“Okay,” Alton said.

Layla walked over to Michael. “Tin . . .”

“Please, just do as I say, and trust me,” he said, pulling on a pair of pants. He threw on a shirt, buckled his duty belt, and then grabbed his Marine Corps hat. In a way, it was becoming like his old spiral metal hat that earned him his nickname, Tin, as a kid.

He felt safe when wearing it.

It also reminded him of X.

The door to their apartment opened, and Victor called out. “Chief, it’s Lieutenant Wynn.”

Layla waved Alton over to the other side of the room. Michael nodded at them in turn and then stepped out, closing the door behind him.

Lieutenant Wynn was waiting in the hallway outside with two militia guards. Michael remembered what Alton had just said.

Were they trying to set him up?

“Sir,” the lieutenant said.

Michael opened the door slightly.

“Sir, I’m sorry, I would have used the radio, but . . .”

Opening the door farther, Michael stepped out. “But what?”

“My guards at rig 15 have overhead discussions about Alton there. The locals are convinced he is responsible and had help.”

“I know, so what’s the other but?”

“They think it was one of our people. And they think we are hiding the boy.”

Michael looked at his lieutenant, wanting to tell him the truth but unsure what to do.

He needed time to think.

A single mistake could cost them more than just the kid’s life. It could spark the war over food that he so feared.

“Tell your men to keep listening,” Michael instructed. “I will handle Charmer myself.”

“Yes, sir.”

Wynn backed away and took off with his men, leaving Victor with Michael. Victor said nothing, but Michael knew what he was thinking.

“Some lies are for the best, my friend,” Michael said quietly.

Victor nodded.

“Go wake Ton. I need your spears more than ever,” Michael said to the man who was not only a guard but also a loyal friend. “It’s not just me we have to protect.”

twenty-three

Arlo and Gran Jefe had successfully stripped the other APC of any munitions and instruments that could be removed without a cutting torch. Those items were now stowed in a crate sailing into the sky.

Magnolia stood in the turret of the working APC, praying to whatever gods might be listening that the crate make it safely back to the airship Vanguard with her message.

She had planned on sending it with Kade, but Gran Jefe was right about the Cowboy. They needed him here, and sending him up to the airship to be grilled by Captain Rolo would only bolster Rolo’s argument that the mission was too dangerous and should be aborted.

Although there really wasn’t any denying how bad things were. The closer they got to Brisbane, the riskier things became.

Shells of automobiles made the road an obstacle course.

Mags stared out the enclosed turret at a strange and exotic new world. If the toxic jungle was any indication, things were going to get worse when they hit Brisbane, where the radiation would be even more intense.

A glance at her minimap confirmed they were nearing the outer edges of the city.

Thick trees framed the highway, their bark dense with clumps of mushrooms. Soft-bodied insects scuttled over the ground, moving in and out of mounds that looked like little volcanoes.

Magnolia scanned with her infrared binos for bigger animal life. A hit marker flagged a tree down the road.

“Stop here,” she called down to Edgar.

He pulled up and she zoomed in on the tree, expecting to see a nest of some sort in the upper branches. Not until she switched from night vision to infrared did she notice the heat signature wrapped around the tree. A protruding knob turned in their direction.

It was a snake—big, but not the biggest she had seen. Unless it breathed fire, it posed no threat.

“Keep moving,” she said.

The truck started down the road again, thumping over potholes and vines.

“Everyone, get ready,” she said. “We’re almost there.”

She looked down into the troop hold. Kade was sitting up now, his leg completely bandaged. He winced as he pushed himself up into a seat.

“Take it easy,” Magnolia said. “You’re lucky to be alive.”

“You are un gato,” Gran Jefe said. “A cat, with nine lives.”

Kade laughed.

“Shit, how we supposed to get around that?” Edgar asked.

Magnolia looked back out the turret viewports. The high beams lit up the vegetation growing across the road. Dense, thick vines had long since taken over this section of the highway, roping through the rusted vehicles. And not just here.

Raising the binos, she turned the focus wheel. The jungle continued right into the city. None of the buildings seemed to have survived the nuclear blast. She raked the binos until she finally noticed something that didn’t look like a tree.

Zooming in, she saw something she remembered from school. A church steeple rose through the canopy, cascading vines from its belfry like a frozen waterfall. It gave her an idea.

She climbed back down into the cramped troop hold.

“Turn off the engine,” she said.

Edgar killed it and turned from the front seat. “What you thinking, Commander?”

“I’m thinking we need a better view of the area,” Magnolia replied. “I’m going to head out. Any volunteers?”

Arlo shrugged. “I’ll go.”

“You’re the last person I expected to say that.”

“Why’s that?”

Half the divers laughed, including Arlo, but it was a nervous titter and quickly died down.

“Stay put, and don’t get out of this truck unless you have to,” she said.

Edgar nodded. “You got it.”

Magnolia checked on Kade, who also nodded. Tia and Sofia would take good care of him, and Edgar and Gran Jefe would keep them protected.

“Be careful,” Sofia said.

“I plan to,” Magnolia replied.

She popped the hatch, and she and Arlo got out. He eased the hatch shut, and a diver locked it from within with a click.

Magnolia hunched down, listening to the chirp and drone of insects. Wind rustled through the canopy, carrying a trillion microscopic spores over the poisonous flora.

A thunder crash drowned out the jungle noises.

“I hate this place,” Arlo said.

“You volunteered to—”

“I know, let’s get this over with. Come on . . .”

She finished her scans and started down the road, passing in front of the APC. Edgar raised a hand and she nodded.

The steeple wasn’t far. She raised her rifle and took the first step onto the dirt. Arlo remained slightly behind her as they approached the palisade of towering trees.

They walked along an old city street completely overgrown by the jungle. Roots and trees grew out of foundations and up through rooftops.

“I’ve never seen a place like this,” Arlo said. “Not even Rio was this bad.”

“Shh.”

“Sorry.”

Stepping over roots, they stood in an atrium that was remarkably well preserved. A cracked fountain stood in the center of a broken tile garden. Chairs and round tables lay scattered about. Above them, a canopy of banana leaves blocked the sky from view.

Magnolia continued past a brick wall with a sign dangling from it.

The Imperio. This place must have been some sort of hotel, where guests paid to stay while traveling.

She wandered through the atrium, trying to imagine what it was like to visit a hotel like this in its prime.

“Hear that?” Arlo said.

Magnolia stopped to listen.

A cawing hit her ears, and she again peered up into the ceiling of leaves.

“Just a bird,” she said. “Keep moving.”

They left the atrium and ventured out through the guts of a building with a concrete foundation. A mangled bicycle frame lay under a pile of rubble.

The cawing grew louder as they made their way through the ruined buildings and the ever-encroaching jungle. She was cautious with every footstep, careful not to tread on any roots or disturb any vines.

Finally, they reached the church, or what remained of it.

The front of the building had collapsed, leaving a skirt of stone and colored glass partially buried under the vines. A tree grew out of the nave, its branches rising almost to the steeple.

Magnolia slung her rifle and drew one of her curved blades.

“You sure you want to do that?” Arlo asked.

She turned to Arlo.

“I’m just sayin’, we already pissed this jungle off once.”

“I’ll be careful,” she replied.

He followed her into the street, stepping over bulging vines that pulsed like arteries. The red vegetation webbed over the mounds of stone and up the facade of the still-standing nave.

Thunder clapped overhead and faded away to a new sound—a low, mournful crying that Magnolia could not place.

“The hell is that?” Arlo asked.

“I don’t know, but let’s get inside.”

She hurried through the collapsed entrance of the church. Hunching down, she crept into the nave, where the wooden pews were crushed under fallen sections of the mosaic ceiling.

Glancing up, she could see the partial image of an angel in the clouds.

Looking for a way up to the steeple, she found a stairway at the east end of the space. The door was rotted away, but the stairs looked sturdy enough. She started up, testing each step.

Leaves and vines curled through the missing windows in the stone walls. Stained glass crunched under her boots. A dead ant the size of a rat lay on the next stair.

She stopped to look out one of the windows but couldn’t see through the dense growth of branches and leaves.

At the top, Magnolia stepped into a small six-sided room with windows looking in all directions. Wind rushed through the empty holes, ruffling her suit.

Arlo joined Magnolia at the window on the western end of the tower. The jungle filled the entire horizon, masking the great city that once housed nearly a million people.

“Holy shit, look at this,” Arlo said.

She turned, seeing he had crossed over to the other side.

Bending down, she took a look.

Unlike the west side, the jungle covering eastern Brisbane was recessed in a broad, deep bowl. It took her a moment to realize what she was seeing.

“That’s the crater,” she said.

Magnolia grabbed her binos again and trained them on the jungle growing along the crater’s rim. There was no sign of buildings in the area, but she saw heat signatures.

“Uh, Mags,” Arlo said.

“What?”

“I think we got a major problem.”

She zoomed in on the white signatures, assuming he was talking about whatever creatures were producing them.

“Mags,” Arlo persisted.

“What?”

She lowered the binos.

“The ITC facility,” he said. “I just checked the map, and I think it is . . .”

He raised a finger and pointed toward the crater.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Magnolia whispered. She raised the binos again, linking with the minimap on her HUD to confirm.

The facility was on the northern rim of the crater.

“It could still be there,” she said. “Maybe the bunker survived the blast.”

Her heart skipped when she saw the first magnified image of the creatures in the crater. A humanoid shape with wings flew over the forest canopy.

Sirens.

Or so it looked like at first, but this beast differed from the mutant humanoids she had encountered in other red zones. Instead of pale, rubbery flesh, this one seemed to have scales.

The crying sound from earlier rose into an incessant buzzing as three of the beasts flew out of the jungle.

“Oh, man, I hate that sound worse than the Sirens,” Arlo said. “I really think we should get out of here, Commander. I’m sorry, but the ITC facility is gone and there are about a billion things that would like to kill us.”

She lowered the binos and turned to Arlo.

“The ITC facility isn’t gone,” she said.

“How do you know that?”

“Where do you think the Sirens came from?”

* * * * *

Thunder boomed, rattling the hull of the Osprey. Acid rain sluiced down the windows.

Rodger sat in his quarters on the ship, looking out over the canal and the mutant jungle beyond the boatyard. It was four in the morning, but he was wide awake.

Spotlights raked over the empty boatyard, where stacks of containers waited to be loaded onto the ship.

He went to another porthole overlooking the canal. Guards patrolled along the tops of the containers forming a wall around the camp. Outpost Gateway was on complete lockdown, its vehicles and nearly all personnel inside the walls.

Most of the workers and soldiers probably felt safer inside the camp, but Rodger actually felt safer here on the ship. If something did happen, the crew could quickly get the ship running. There were also plenty of defenses here: razor wire, flamethrowers, harpoon guns, and a variety of medieval contraptions that the Cazadores had added. They sure knew how to survive in the wastes.

Rodger wasn’t the only one who preferred the ship. Yejun was also in his quarters, having come here right after the workday ended.

Rodger gazed out over the vast terrain that hid a mystery he couldn’t seem to get his mind around.

Something had killed the Cazadores they had found, and something had turned Yejun’s family into radioactive monsters.

There was an evil beyond the breeders, their spawn, and a few mutant deer prowling out there, and Rodger had to find out what it was before it destroyed the outpost.

Letting out a sigh, he returned to his desk and the map he had brought from the bunker. On it, he had marked the locations and timing of the radiation spikes and the seismic events. Everything seemed to originate in the Rio Abajo National Forest and branched out.

Focusing on this helped keep Rodger’s mind off Magnolia, but he could do it only for so long. She was out there on another continent, probably fighting for her life. His finger hovered over the tablet that contained her message.

A knock came on his hatch.

He got up and opened it to find Yejun. The young man looked much younger in the dim light. His freckled features were pinched in fear.

“What?” Rodger said. “What’s wrong?”

Yejun walked into the room and went straight to the portholes facing the canal and Panama City beyond. Rodger joined him there, fixing his glasses on his nose. He noticed a pulsating glow on the horizon.

“What in the world is that?” Rodger said, grabbing his binoculars and translator.

Yejun continued to point.

“I know, I know. What is it?” Rodger said into the device.

The young man said he had seen the glow at night, but it always seemed to originate in the jungle and never reached the canal.

So did this have something to do with what happened to his family? Rodger kept his theory to himself and grabbed the radio, tuning to the command channel.

“Lieutenant Bromista, do you copy? Over.”

“Copy.” The lieutenant sounded wide awake.

Rodger used his translator to report the strange phenomenon occurring in the jungle, and Bromista replied that he had detected another massive radiation spike.

There was cursing over the channel, and background noise.

An alarm blared in the distance.

The noise seemed to agitate Yejun. He turned from the porthole, speaking rapidly and motioning with a filthy hand.

In the distance, the glow seemed to brighten more, blooming outward and illuminating acres of city and jungle. Rodger zoomed the binos in again.

A dozen creatures, too big to be Sirens, flapped away from the canopy and retreated across the horizon.

Rodger stepped back as the glowing jungle intensified. The radio crackled and hissed.

“No move,” Bromista said. “Stay at ship.”

“Copy that.”

Rodger put the radio down and scoped the jungle again. Two arcs of light expanded out of the canopy, fluttering like butterfly wings. They spread outward, breaking into multiple sets, moving out over the dirt.

Yejun was growing more agitated by the second. He started to back away from the glass, speaking into the translator.

“Turn off the noise,” he said. “Turn off the noise.”

Rodger grabbed the handset. “Lieutenant, this is Rodger again, do you copy?”

No response.

He moved to a porthole with a view of the outpost. The guards on the containers were climbing down, leaving the posts unmanned.

Yejun tugged on his shoulder. In his peripheral vision, Rodger noticed a winking light on the open ground between the jungle and the boatyard.

He watched the glowing object, his brain trying to make sense of what his eyes were seeing. He zoomed the binos in on a single deer, its flesh pulsating a fluorescent yellow. The deformed animal bolted away from the jungle, chasing a herd of its fellow mutant beasts.

The herd bolted away, trying to elude the monster that had been one of their own just moments ago.

“I’ll be damned,” Rodger said. He hit the command channel again. “Lieutenant, do you copy?”

Ancla’s voice came over the channel, speaking the clearest English Rodger had heard yet.

“We are locking down outpost,” she said. “The soldiers on the Osprey will protect you.”

“Tell Lieutenant Bromista to turn off that damned alarm.”

“What?”

“The alarm—turn the damn thing off!”

The noise whined a moment longer, then died away.

But the fluorescent glow didn’t fade along with the sound. The swirling yellow expanded again, flashing out toward the boatyard.

Rodger was breathing fast now, truly terrified about his theory. His gaze flitted to the maps, and the spot where they had found the Cazadores near the canal.

Was this light what killed those men?

Rodger heard footsteps and turned as Yejun started toward the hatch.

“Wait,” he said, holding up a hand.

Yejun spoke a word of English that Rodger had never heard him speak.

“Hide.”

Then he was gone.

Rodger remained at the window, watching the light expand toward the ship.

He backed away from the glass, grabbed his tablet and radio, stuffed them into his bag. Then he ran out of the quarters.

Seeing Yejun at the end of the passage, he yelled, “I’m coming!”

They rushed down to an enclosed cargo hold where the rest of the crew was sheltering. Two guards in full armor and masks stood at the open hatch with their rifles, trying to calm the workers. Some of them were changing into their black hazard suits inside.

Rodger went to the captain, Joe Turkot.

“Captain, don’t you think we should start the ship’s engines?” he asked.

“Lieutenant Bromista has instructed us not to,” Turkot replied. “He thinks it will bring more attention to our location.”

“It won’t matter if that light doesn’t stop. I have a theory on what it is, and if I’m right, we’re toast if it reaches us.”

Turkot raised a black brow.

“We could make a run for the outpost,” said Joshua.

Rodger scratched at his beard and turned to look for Yejun, but the kid was no longer standing behind him.

“Yejun!” he called out.

Starting through the crowd, Rodger searched for the youngster, moving across the wide room. He searched the shadows, but Yejun was nowhere to be found.

The soldiers closed the hatch and sealed it.

“Wait,” Rodger said. “Did Yejun leave?”

One of the soldiers nodded.

“Let me out,” Rodger said.

“Sir, I can’t do that,” said the guard. “We have strict orders to keep this area secure.”

“I said let me out.”

“And I’m saying that isn’t possible, Director Mintel. You are in charge of engineering, not security.”

“He chose to leave,” said Turkot. “For the safety of everyone on this ship, I need you to stay put, sir. You are not easy to replace.”

Rodger cursed.

“As soon as this phenomenon passes, we will help you look for him, okay?” said Joshua.

“Yeah, okay,” Rodger replied.

He stepped away from the workers huddling in the room and took a seat in a dark corner. The one consolation was that Yejun knew how to survive if he did leave the ship.

Rodger pulled out his tablet.

With things so uncertain, he decided to listen to the message from Magnolia. He might not get another chance.

He put earphones in and hit the play button.

“Rodger, I’m sure by now you are doing everything you can to make Outpost Gateway operational. I wish we had parted on better terms, but I’m still honestly a little in shock about how we parted.

“And you know I’m not easily shocked.

“You can drop me out of an airship at twenty thousand feet in an electrical storm, into a radioactive wasteland crawling with mutated monsters, and I’m usually pretty damn functional, but right now, Rodge . . . right now, Rodge, I’m barely keeping it together.”

There was a slight pause.

“I put diving before you, before me, before everything, for my entire adult life. I did this because I believed that someday it would allow us to be together, that we could save humanity . . .”

Another pause, then an audible sigh.

“I didn’t realize that I would lose you in the process, but saving humanity has been harder than I thought . . . You know, after we won the war against el Pulpo and made the Vanguard Islands our home, I actually thought that was it for a minute, that the fight and diving was over. I wish it had been.

“I can picture what life might have been like then. You and me, married like Tin and Layla. A little one of our own. You with your own wood shop, and me planting gardens . . . or fighting in the Sky Arena.”

She gave a sad laugh.

“You know I’m kidding about the Sky Arena, but not the other parts. That is what I want. To finally live life in the moment and not like this is the last moment. I lived like that my entire life.”

Rodger shifted the glasses on his nose, rubbed his eye.

“If I survive this mission, I’m going to ask for some time off and pass the torch on to Kade. As soon as I can, I’ll head to the outpost, or wherever you are. I don’t care where it is, in the wastes or at the Vanguard Islands—as long as I’m with you, that’s all I care about. Be careful, Rodger Dodger. I love you with all my jaded heart.”

Rodger lowered the tablet. A tear fell. It was not a tear of sadness.

“I love you, too, Mags,” he whispered.

twenty-four

“We have to do something,” X said.

Miles was by his side now, whining softly.

“Quiet, boy,” X whispered.

He watched the video footage from the Barracuda soldiers trapped on the ITC Dagger. They were wading through a passage filled with chest-deep water, rifles over their heads.

A ripple curved across it, and a scaly, snakelike arm writhed back into the overhead.

“Ah, shit,” X said, running a hand through his graying hair. Everything was screwed up. He had retreated from the Sunshine Coast to save lives. Now he feared he had sent the Barracudas and the diving teams to their deaths.

“I’ve got to fix this,” he said. “I have to get down there.”

“That’s not possible,” said Timothy. “We sent all the SDVs.”

The AI emerged next to X.

“Actually, not all.”

X rushed out of the CIC, Miles barking after him.

“Stay,” X said, turning.

The dog kept coming.

“Miles, I said stay!” X shouted.

The dog went down on his belly, whining loudly.

“I’m sorry, but you can’t run on that sprain,” X said. “I’ll be back. Now, stay.”

As X ran down the passageway, his heart ached at the sound of his dog’s distress. He couldn’t get the screams of the men trapped in the sub out of his head.

He held the handset to his lips. “Slayer, do you copy? ”

The reply was barely audible—whether from interference or because Slayer didn’t want to be overheard, X couldn’t know.

He ran harder, but the huge former aircraft carrier was almost four hundred meters long. By the time he reached the dry dock, he was out of breath.

Whatever beast had made the ITC Dagger home was actively hunting the Barracudas.

“Get those ready!” X shouted.

A crew of three technicians shot up when they saw him enter.

“What? ” one of them asked.

X pointed to the submersibles. “Those minisubs or whatever the hell you call them.”

The techs exchanged a look.

“That’s an order!” X yelled.

Another voice boomed.

“King Xavier, you do not know how to operate one of those.”

X turned to General Forge.

Timothy’s hologram also appeared, walking through the cargo hold.

“Please, sir,” he begged. “Do not use those old ‘tin cans,’ as they might once have been called.”

“We don’t have a choice, Pepper.”

He snapped his fingers at the three techs, who were still dithering.

“Do as he says,” Forge ordered, moving past X and heading right for one of the machines.

“I come, too,” Forge said. “You need my help.”

“You know how to operate one of these?” X asked.

Forge opened the canopy over the ancient submersible.

“Long ago, before I joined the military, I was a diver,” he explained. “Held the record for the deepest free dive. I trained on these when I first served in the Cazador ranks.”

Miles trotted into the Immortal’s huge cargo hold, wagging his tail.

“Damn it, boy,” X growled.

“Even your companion animal does not want you to do this, sir,” Timothy said.

“Pepper, go do something useful like change a light bulb, or some shit,” X said.

Timothy raised a brow. “Very well, sir. Good luck to you.”

He vanished.

Forge ducked into the submersible and then gave orders in Spanish to the technicians, two of whom dashed off to retrieve something. X checked his suit after securing his helmet.

“Captain Two Skulls, send the feed to my HUD,” X said.

“Sir, the feeds are offline,” replied the captain.

X froze.

“What do you mean, ‘offline’?”

“I mean the video feed is not working, but I will send you the last footage we received.”

X stared at his HUD as a grainy image came online. There were only three Barracudas now, all of them inside a small compartment that appeared dry.

“That’s the propulsion and reactor control room,” said Two Skulls.

A scaly arm reached out from behind the propulsion equipment and wrapped around one of the soldiers, yanking him away.

Not wanting to shoot inside the submarine, Slayer and Sergeant Blackburn wielded their cutlasses, trying to hack the man free.

The feed winked off.

“That’s where we lost it,” Timothy said over the comms. “Sorry to interrupt, but I finished changing the light bulb.”

X grunted.

A group of soldiers carried over spearguns and other weapons.

“We’re going to need more than those,” X said.

“Will this do the trick?” General Forge held up a chainsaw with a bar as long as his arm. The battery-powered saw was one of a few they had discovered in the supercarrier’s armory.

X mounted the chainsaw to his prosthetic arm. “Yeah, this will do.”

The general took a speargun and nodded at the technicians. A lift cranked, lowering the submersible into position on the platform.

“Man, looks like I could get tetanus just sitting in that rust bucket,” X said.

“This rust bucket saved my life when I was a young man,” Forge replied.

“Sorry, no disrespect.”

They got onto the platform.

“Send us down,” X said.

The elevator clanked toward the water as the crew and soldiers looked down. Miles nudged up to the edge, barking.

“I’ll be right back, boy,” X said. “Don’t worry!”

Miles went down in a jumping stance, but X whistled and the dog finally quieted.

“That’s a good boy. Now, stay!”

X and Forge both got into the submersible and moved into the cockpit.

“You’re cleared for launch,” Captain Two Skulls said over the comms.

“Copy that,” said Timothy. “Launching in ten . . . nine . . .”

X closed the canopy, sealing them inside. The sub was much smaller than the others, but the hull was thick, with reinforced glass viewports.

“Two, one, launch,” Timothy said.

Water surrounded them, and bubbles rose past the viewports.

X stepped up beside Forge, who sat in the one chair, using the controls to guide them through the dark water. Beams cut through the inky blackness, lighting up a long, smooth-bodied eel as other fish darted out of view.

“We’ll take this straight to the ITC Dagger’s sail hatch,” he said.

X tried the Barracuda team channel again and got no response.

“Slayer, if you can hear this, hold on,” he said. “We’re coming to help.”

He flinched as a scaly orange body slammed into the upper left porthole so hard that a crack webbed out from the point of impact.

The piranha that had hit the glass swam away slowly, dazed, before vanishing back into the depths.

X scanned the water, watching for more of the mutant man-eating fish.

The lights raked back and forth, but the creatures avoided the bright beams that eventually hit the ITC Dagger.

“There it is,” X said.

The other two vehicles were resting on the sandy bottom. The SDV’s beams chased away an octopus and a score of crabs that had been clambering over two of the dead Cazador divers, reducing them to bones and gristle.

As Forge turned the small vessel toward the massive submarine’s vertical sail, another piranha slammed into the glass, not far from the first impact. The crack expanded.

“It will hold,” Forge said.

X watched, clenching his jaw as the fish kept pounding the glass.

“Little bastards,” he grumbled.

“Here we go.”

Forge guided the SDV over the submarine. It clicked magnetically into place.

X went over to the bottom hatch.

“Muy bien,” X said.

Forge killed the engine and hunkered down with his speargun.

“I’ll go first,” he said.

“No way,” X said. “You got us here.”

He spun the locking wheel, and the hatch popped open. He shined his helmet light into the submarine’s dark interior. Seeing nothing move, he started down the ladder.

Forge was down a minute later, and the two men quickly cleared the passage.

“Slayer,” X said over the comm channel. “Slayer do you copy? ”

There was no reply on the channel, but X heard a creaking somewhere inside the boat. The more he listened, the more it sounded like a large, meaty object slithering over a hard surface.

X lifted the chainsaw high with his prosthetic arm and slogged through the standing water, trying not to make noise in the control room, where Slayer and his men had first entered.

Another ladder took them to the deck below, into the galley where the first team was attacked. X played his light around the room, finding overturned chairs and tables in the knee-deep water.

A ripple broke across the surface.

“You’re just above the galley,” Timothy said over the comms. “I lost the feed in the—”

“Quiet,” X hissed.

Forge froze, his speargun aimed at the open hatch across the space, where X was shining his light.

A thick arm the color of raw meat appeared in the opening. It was covered in foot-long hairs with button-sized bulbs on the ends. The bulbs turned toward the light but then withered away.

“We’re spotted,” X said. “Come on, time to become the hunters.”

He ran after the limb, through the hatch and down to another ladder. The space below was completely filled with water.

Bubbles rose to the surface.

“Timothy, what’s below us?” X asked.

“Data distribution rack to your right, and the garbage ejector compartment to your left,” replied the AI.

“Shit, that must be how it got in.”

A chill ran up X’s spine as he stared at the dark water, wondering if the Barracudas were down there.

He knew one way to find out.

“On me,” he said.

Before Forge could respond, X waded down into the water until it rose above his visor. Submerged, he raked his lights back and forth. The ladder led down to another open hatch, which led to a weapons stowage compartment.

They had found munitions, but they also discovered the creature’s feeding lair. Fish bones and bits of flesh floated in the water, as they had for untold years.

X walked, almost weightless, across the submerged room.

His lights illuminated mounds of bones and shells.

A lobster the size of Miles crawled out from a pile of bones, making X flinch. The creature looked up at him, then returned to its home.

Following the trail of animal remains, the two men headed toward another open hatch at the end of the weapons stowage. Forge held up a hand when they approached the open hatch. X searched the cloudy water until he saw an armored body lying upside down in the ladder.

The helmet was gone, and hair billowed around the flesh of a man who looked to have been dead for days, maybe longer.

X noticed a name on the armor.

Cabo Mazo.

But how was that possible? The decomposition made no sense.

X slowly approached, taking short breaths of filtered air.

He noticed the Barracuda engraving on the chest armor. The eyeballs were gone, nothing but shallow sockets left.

X flitted his head beams up the rungs, past the upside-down corpse, whose boot had wedged between two rungs. It seemed the next passage up was above water. The general started up, squeezing past the body. After making it past, Forge abruptly vanished.

“General!” X shouted.

He climbed as fast as he could, breaking through the surface in another storage compartment. The lights on his helmet hit multiple objects that his brain couldn’t quite process in the seconds that seemed to flash by.

General Forge was wrapped up in midair by a bristle-covered arm, connected to a meaty heart-shaped beast with an eye that took up half its bulbous body. Another six or seven limbs stretched away from the body, clinging to a fleshy webbing that festooned the room like a huge spiderweb. The Barracudas and a couple of large fish were strung up on the hulls and by the prickly webbing.

The bulbs on the webs had burrowed into the prey and were slowly draining their blood.

X snapped out of his trance and fired up the chainsaw. Raising the weapon above his head, he hacked into the web holding Forge.

A limb came sailing toward X. He watched as the barbed hooks swung toward him in what seemed like slow motion. The monster was clearly not expecting the noisy contraption to bite into its flesh.

X let out a war whoop as he pushed the bar deeper, but the saw quickly got stuck. The monster pulled with its webbed limb, swinging him as he held on to the handle.

He smacked against the hull and fell into a puddle of gore, losing the weapon.

The limb whipped back and forth, the chainsaw still stuck in its flesh.

Another barbed limb slapped X, forcing him to roll.

Getting up, he unsheathed his hatchet and hurled it across the room into the mammoth eyeball as it flitted from X to Forge. The blade landed with a juicy thunk, and the heart-shaped body writhed, letting out a roar from a mouth that X still couldn’t find.

Forge dropped to the deck, gasping for air, his speargun splashing into knee-deep water.

X ducked under a swinging limb as another one slammed him from behind, knocking the chainsaw free from the rubbery flesh. As he fell to the deck, he glimpsed Slayer, staring down at him from where he hung stuck to the hull, his features gaunt.

Forge fished through the water for his speargun while X scrambled for the chainsaw. They recovered their weapons at the same time, bringing them up as they stood back-to-back.

X swung the saw one-handed into the bristly arm, drawing another scream from the beast. A fishing spear pinned one of the limbs against the overhead. Forge had already dropped the weapon and grabbed his cutlass.

“Watch out!” X yelled.

He sidestepped a limb, which Forge hacked into with his sword.

One of the arms dropped a soldier and whipped toward X, hitting him in the side of the helmet and laying him out on the deck.

Stars burst across his vision, but he could still see the helmetless soldiers pinned to the hull and the overhead. Every second this monster lived, their chances worsened.

Before X could recover, the limb wrapped around him, pulling him into the air.

Forge hacked at a tentacle, but the arm pulled X up, out of reach.

He kicked as it clamped tighter around him. The next breath was harder than the last, and he struggled to get air.

He stared across the blurry room, his helmet lights on Slayer, who blinked heavily before his head finally slumped against his chest.

“No!” X yelled.

He kicked and squirmed and fought, but it was of no use. The stalked bulbs on the limb turned toward him and began needling against his armor, searching for flesh.

The pain of being squeezed was intense, and X couldn’t help but let out a scream. His vision came and went, but he could hear General Forge and the screeches of the cyclopean beast.

X felt the arm loosen some, or maybe it was just his imagination.

Another shriek erupted from the beast, and the arm loosened palpably. X slumped out into the water, his vision returning.

Forge had the chainsaw now and was cutting the other men free.

X pushed himself up, drew his blaster, and staggered over to the beast. The bulbous body rose up on a tail and flipper to meet him.

It retracted all its arms, and fins emerged from its back and sides as it slid toward the exit.

“Hell no, you don’t, you ugly sack of . . .” X leveled his blaster at the side of the head as it turned away from him.

The buckshot blew a fist-size hole in the bizarre-looking face. Flipping the selector to flare, he fired it into the hole.

Sparks and flames blew out, hissing until the massive eyeball exploded. The limbs slumped next to the body as it fell on its side into the water.

X pulled out his axe and scrambled over to Slayer. Holstering the blaster, he used his tomahawk to cut the veiny webbing away.

Slayer collapsed to the deck.

“Lieutenant, can you hear me?” X asked.

He put a finger to his neck and felt nothing.

“Come on, kid,” X said.

He took off his helmet and prepared to start resuscitation. Right as he bent down, Slayer opened an eyelid.

“Oh, shit,” X said with a grin. “You are alive!”

“I . . .” Slayer stammered. “I like you, King Xavier, but not in that way.”

X let out a laugh and turned to Forge, whereupon his smile folded into a frown. The general was standing above Blackburn and Sidner.

Unlike Slayer, they didn’t look as though they had survived their injuries.

Slayer tried to get up, but X held him down.

“Blackburn, Sidner . . . Mazo is dead, too, isn’t he?”

X couldn’t lie to the lieutenant.

“They’re all gone,” he said.

Slayer closed his eyes just as X had done so many times when he lost men and women under his command.

“They didn’t die in vain,” X said.

Forge bent down and put a glove to the neck of a limp soldier.

“Blackburn’s alive,” he said.

X helped Slayer to his feet, putting an arm around him. With his chin, X bumped on the command channel as they stumbled over through the gore and water.

“Timothy, we need a medical team over here as soon as possible,” he said into his headset. “Bring a salvage team, too. I want to collect every weapon on this sub. Nothing goes to waste.”

twenty-five

The hatch opened, and Magnolia popped back inside with Arlo. They both were panting, clearly out of breath.

“What did you see?” Kade asked.

“Sirens,” Arlo said between gasps. “And not the normal kind.”

“What do you mean?” Edgar asked, climbing into the back of the troop hold.

“They adapted differently here,” Magnolia said. “We didn’t get a good look at them, but they have some sort of scaly armor and they make a crying noise.”

“Crying?” Sofia said. “I get enough of that at home with little Rhino.”

Magnolia chuckled, but Kade didn’t see the humor. He had never seen a Siren in all his dives, but he had heard enough about them to know they weren’t something you wanted to run into on the surface.

“What about the ITC facility?” he asked.

“It’s on the border of the nuclear blast zone,” Arlo said. “Magnolia thinks so, anyway.”

“If there are Sirens, then the facility exists,” she explained. “They would have come from the cryo-chambers.”

“Yeah, but if they escaped their pods and changed, doesn’t that mean the facility’s already been raided?” Edgar said.

“Only one way to find out.”

“Guys, seriously, I think we should talk more about this,” Arlo said.

“I’m with Penecito on this,” Gran Jefe said. “Muy mal idea.”

To everyone’s surprise, Arlo didn’t snap back with a retort.

“Listen up,” Magnolia said. “We’re driving in, and I’ll lead a volunteer trip to look for the seed bank.”

Arlo sighed, and Edgar climbed back into the front seat, firing up the truck.

Snorting, Gran Jefe strapped into his seat.

Magnolia sat next to Kade, looking at his bandaged leg. “How you doing?”

“Swelling’s already going down,” he said. “I should be able to put weight on it soon.”

“For now, just take it easy. We’ll need someone to stay with the truck anyways, although I doubt you’ll be driving.”

“I got two legs, don’t I?” Kade tried to sit up farther, and let out a groan.

Magnolia climbed into the passenger seat next to Edgar. They spoke quietly, but Kade could hear most of the discussion about how to proceed.

Edgar nodded and cranked the engine.

“Gran Jefe, you’re in the turret,” Magnolia said.

The big Cazador got up, mumbling something in Spanish.

Beams shot out of the vehicle, illuminating the path ahead.

Kade had a perfect view out the front windshield, but his vision was slightly blurred from the waning poison in his body.

“Hey.”

He looked toward the soft voice and found Tia across from him.

“You feeling better?” she asked.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine, no worries.”

She turned slightly to the window, and despite his poor vision, Kade could tell she was nervous. The reality of their situation had finally sunk in.

Outside the armored vehicle, the noxious jungle surrounded them, full of prowling monsters and off-the-charts radiation.

Kade had been on plenty of dangerous missions in the past, but nothing like where they were heading now.

Branches reached out toward the vehicle as it thumped over holes, roots, and vines. Edgar steered around a charred truck body, then took the exit off the highway, hitting a two-lane road that was mostly gone.

The road passed broken-down houses with trees growing through them, and roots prying apart their foundations. A section of metal fence leaned over the left side of the road.

Gran Jefe used the spotlight mounted to the turret to help guide them down the first city block. The beams raked over a city reclaimed almost entirely by nature.

It was odd what had survived out here, though.

A fire hydrant poked out of the dirt.

On the next block, parking meters and splintered electrical poles stuck out of the ground.

Edgar slowed at an intersection that was blocked off by trees growing up from debris piles of the larger buildings.

“Getting close,” Edgar said.

“Stay alert,” Magnolia said.

Edgar turned down a path carved between slabs of concrete, metal, and glass that had stacked like pancakes when the buildings that once lined the road came down.

The tires crunched over rubble.

Over the engine’s rumble came a distant sound that made Edgar ease off on the gas. They came to a full stop behind two ruined battle tanks covered in vines and red moss. The bones of a soldier lay partially covered in the dirt, a helmet still protecting the skull.

“What?” Tia asked. “Why are we stopping?”

“I heard something,” Edgar said.

“Me, too,” Kade replied.

“Sirens,” said Arlo.

The crying noise rose out of the jungle, into a whining sound reminiscent of an emergency siren. It faded away, and Edgar leaned down to start the engine. He paused.

“We’ll need to put more fuel in soon,” he said.

“Just as well do it now,” Magnolia said. “I’ll take care of it. Arlo, with me.”

Magnolia and Arlo slipped outside and closed the hatch. Kade could see them in his night-vision goggles, moving quickly around the back, but he soon lost sight of them.

He switched to infrared and turned to the front of the APC, looking out the windshield at the tank. Something moved on the ground, near the skeletal remains of the soldier—at least, Kade thought he saw movement. Out here, shadows became monsters, and monsters became shadows.

Loud cawing from the canopy to their right broke the silence.

“Is that a bird?” Tia asked.

“Quiet,” Kade whispered.

The back hatch opened, causing Tia to bring up her rifle.

Arlo leaned down, holding up a glove. “Easy, damn!” he said.

She lowered her rifle as the divers climbed back into the vehicle.

“Okay, let’s move,” Magnolia said.

Edgar turned the truck on and started down the road. Kade shifted in his seat, wiggling his toes to get the blood flowing in his injured leg.

They came to a section of road with low-hanging branches covered in barbs. Gran Jefe ducked back down into the turret.

When they were clear, he got back up again and pointed the spotlight at a concrete tunnel in the ground left of the dirt road.

“Is it a subway?” Edgar asked.

“Train road,” Gran Jefe said.

“Same thing.”

“Something could be living down there,” Arlo said.

“Yeah, but it goes toward the crater,” Magnolia said. “We’re only two miles away from the ITC coordinates. If this takes us close, we can trek in.”

“Screw it, let’s go,” muttered Arlo.

Kade could tell Tia was terrified now, and he didn’t blame her. Part of him wanted to protest the decision, but this was their mission.

“We go in dark,” Magnolia said.

Edgar turned off the beams, and Gran Jefe shut off the spotlight.

The wheels thumped over rocks as the APC started down a ramp of scree that had broken away from the subway entrance. At the bottom, tracks covered in more debris stretched into the darkness.

Edgar started slow, but his foot got heavier once they were all the way underground. Down here, it was almost impossible for Kade to see anything more than indistinct shapes, even with his night vision.

It wasn’t until Magnolia ordered Edgar to stop that they understood the full extent of the underground world they had driven into.

The headlights flicked on, capturing an ecosystem of toxic plants growing along the tracks, walls, and overhead.

Mushrooms hung from the ceiling like massive garish ornaments, and thick, ropy leafless vines crawled up the walls. Blue and red moss, fed by water dripping from cracks, carpeted chunks of broken concrete.

A quick scan revealed no fauna amid the lush, plentiful flora.

Edgar turned off the lights and kept driving until they came to an intersection with three other tunnels.

“Hell yes!” Magnolia said. “That should lead us directly to the ITC facility.”

She turned to the troop hold.

“Get ready.”

Nods all around.

Edgar took the tracks to the right, pushing into the tunnel until the sight of a cave-in deflated the excitement. The debris pile seemed to block most of the road about five-hundred feet ahead.

“Well, shit,” Magnolia said. “You see a way through?”

“Maybe on foot,” Edgar said.

She pulled out her tablet and checked the map again, then tucked it away.

“We’re not far,” she said. “Shut it off and meet me in back.”

Unbuckling her harness, she moved to the back and crouched in front of the other divers. Edgar ducked down and joined her.

“Okay,” Magnolia said. “Kade, you and Tia are going to stay here with Arlo to watch the truck. I’m heading in on foot with Sofia, Gran Jefe, and Edgar to search for a way in and poke around for supplies. Radio silence unless there’s trouble,” she said. “I want to be as quiet as humanly possible.”

“Good luck, Commander,” Kade said.

“You, too,” Magnolia replied.

Arlo climbed into the turret, and Kade made his way to the front of the vehicle as Tia swung into the passenger seat.

The other four divers went out the back and made their way around to the front.

Magnolia turned and raised a hand. Kade did the same, then tapped his chest armor—a sign of respect in his old team.

He watched with his NVGs as their armored figures passed spore cases the size of booster balloons, on stems as tall as a man. Vines snaked and dangled from the overhead and seemed to twist as the divers passed underneath.

They arrived at the cave-in a moment later, and vanished through an opening in the scree.

Silence fell inside the vehicle. A deep, absolute, horrifying silence. Minutes passed, an hour.

Tia broke it with a question. “Have you ever been anywhere like this?”

“Yes,” Kade said. “But . . .”

A faint tremor cut him off.

“Arlo,” he said quietly. “Arlo, you see anything?”

“Negative,” came the muffled reply.

“Check our six.”

“I got nothing, Cowboy.”

Kade relaxed but kept his grip on the rifle.

“What was it?” Tia asked.

“I thought I felt a tremor.”

They sat in the silence again, a quiet so intense that Kade could hear his heart thumping in his ears. He wiggled his toes again and his ankle. The feeling was finally coming back.

Tia bent down to look out the windshield.

Kade shifted for a better look. “You see something?”

“I swear I saw something move on all fours.”

“A Siren?”

“No, it was like a big cat.”

“Where?” Arlo asked.

“In front of us, near those mushrooms.”

“I don’t got nothing on infrared now, but I was watching our six.”

Kade stared at the mushrooms and noticed a hole in the concrete wall that was big enough for a human to get through. He called it out.

“I see it,” Arlo said.

A shriek resonated down the tunnel.

“What . . .” Tia began to say.

Kade held up a finger.

The noise faded away, but seconds later a wailing followed, rising into a plaintive tone like a crying human.

“A Siren,” Arlo whispered.

The sound drew closer, and in the respite came the scrabble of claws on concrete. The trembling Kade had felt before came again, but this time twice, then three times. Almost like footsteps.

Before Kade could stop her, Tia gasped aloud at a deformed, eyeless face, covered in scales, that squeezed through the hole in the wall. A shiny, black, lizard-like tongue flicked out of a wide mouth as if testing the air.

The humanoid figure stretched an elongated neck out of the hole into the tunnel. The eyeless head of the Siren tilted toward the APC.

“Don’t move,” Kade said. “We’ll be okay.”

The beast leaped out into the tunnel, crouching and sniffing the air. Small quakes followed as it moved on all fours toward the APC. But the vibrations weren’t from the Siren.

Something else was out there . . .

Kade studied the green-hued landscape of his night-vision optics, his heart beating in counterpoint to the pounding that approached them.

Arlo got back down into the troop hold, shivering.

“Guys . . .” he whispered. “You feel that?”

Rocks pattered down on the roof of the truck after each new tremor. The Siren scrambled over toward the hood of the vehicle.

Kade readied his rifle, his eyes flitting from the monster to the cave-in where he noticed more movement.

A titanic beast emerged out of the same narrow tunnel the Hell Divers had taken an hour earlier.

It walked upright, lumbering toward the APC. Bones grew on the outside of its upper body, and bulging muscles flexed beneath them.

“It’s a bone beast,” Arlo whispered.

The curious Siren tried to flee, but only made it a few feet when a pale spear lanced through its neck. It slumped to the ground in front of the truck.

The behemoth creature scooped up the Siren in one hand, twisted off the head with the other, and ate it like an apple. Then it pulled off an arm and sucked the flesh from it while staring at the APC.

“Quiet, and don’t move,” Kade whispered. “I don’t think it can see us.”

The beast finished off the limbs and went to work on the back and torso. It peeled back the scaly hide, tossing the husk of flesh away. Then it leaned down and plucked the meat off in strings.

It suddenly tilted its head at the vehicle, a flap of fat hanging from its mouth. Straightening its back, it stared at the APC, pointy ears perking.

Kade held a breath in his chest, watching the black eyes that seemed to be looking right at him, and moved a finger toward the trigger of his rifle.

The bone beast suddenly abandoned the half-eaten corpse and ran back toward the cave-in.

Kade let out the breath. He looked at Tia.

“It’s okay,” he said. “We’re going to be fine.”

As if in answer, a great whooshing sound came from behind the truck. The noise, like water rushing , filled the tunnel. It intensified until it sounded like a tornado whipping over them.

A black shape sailed overhead, its wings almost touching both sides of the tunnel. The bat was bigger than their truck.

It swooped down in front of the bone beast, blocking the entrance to the narrow passage beyond the cave-in. The titan beast swung at the bat that was four times its size but the gigantic creature just wrapped its wings around the monster, and then sank fangs into its head.

The muffled roar of the bone beast resonated through the tunnel as it fought. The bat’s wings protruded in places where the beast tried to rip free. Kade could hear the crunching and tearing.

They had a front-row seat to the food chain’s pecking order down here, and the divers were several rungs from the top.

The sounds stopped a few minutes later, and the bat flapped away with its limp prey.

Kade swallowed hard and turned toward the other divers, who stared ahead in horror.

A radio message in their helmets snapped them all alert a minute later. He tensed, waiting for news so bad it would cause Magnolia to break radio silence.

“We’ve found a way into the facility,” she said. “Working our way inside. Stand by.”

Not bad news, after all.

Kade tried to relax. The next hour crawled by, every little sound in the tunnel putting his nerves on high alert.

When the next transmission came, he was finally calm. It was Magnolia again, and she sounded excited.

“Copy, Commander,” he replied. “Go ahead.”

“Kade, I need you to drive out and try and send a message to Captain Rolo and King Xavier.”

Kade replied quietly. “Copy that, Commander. What’s the message?”

“We found the seeds—enough to feed the islands for generations.”

twenty-six

X wanted nothing more than to fall on his bed and sleep for a day, but there was work to be done. The Immortal remained anchored over the ITC Dagger while the remaining munitions were being unloaded and stowed carefully in the supercarrier’s armory.

In total, they had salvaged twenty-two ballistic missiles and two nuclear-armed cruise missiles. Now the Vanguard military would have nuclear weapons in both the sky and the sea. X wasn’t sure if that made him feel safer. He thought back to Captain Maria Ash. She would never have let the very weapons that had destroyed this world onto her airship.

And X had been with her all the way, but times had changed. There was no telling what else was out there.

It was a good haul, but it had come at a significant cost, with the loss of two deep-sea submersibles and the underwater diving team. The Barracudas were also down Mazo and Sidner, leaving only Lieutenant Slayer and Sergeant Blackburn.

X was on his way to visit them now in the medical ward. Miles walked by his side.

When he arrived, a transmission came over his headset.

“All munitions are safely aboard, King Xavier,” said Captain Two Skulls. “We’re preparing to move out.”

“Copy that,” X said.

He opened the hatch and stepped into the sprawling medical ward.

Most of the lights were out, but they had kept a few on in the morgue. White sheets covered the bodies of the dead they had pulled from the submarine.

X stopped to pay his respects, then moved on to meet with the lucky survivors. Slayer was sitting up in his bed next to Sergeant Blackburn.

IV tubes dripped saline solution into their arms.

Both men tried to sit up even straighter as he approached, but X held up his hand.

“Relax,” he said.

Despite his request, the two soldiers remained as upright as they could, judging from the pained looks on their wan faces.

“I said relax, fellas,” X said.

Both men slumped visibly.

Miles trotted over to sniff Slayer’s bandaged hand.

X paced in front of the beds.

“Thanks to you both, we’ve recovered a bounty of ammunition,” he said. “I know this came at an extreme cost, but your comrades gave their lives to help restore a resource we were desperately short on.”

“We shall drink in their honor,” Blackburn croaked.

X nodded. “It will be arranged. In the meantime, take your time recovering. We need you strong for whatever comes next.”

Rapid footfalls drew his attention. General Forge rushed into the medical ward.

“King Xavier, I need to speak with you.”

X patted Slayer on the shoulder.

“Get better,” he said. “You, too, Sergeant.”

“Gracias,” Blackburn replied.

Slayer just nodded.

Outside the medical ward, Forge stopped in the passageway, and X shut the hatch as soon as Miles was clear.

“Sir, we just received word from Captain Rolo,” he said.

X tensed up. “Finally. What is it?”

“The divers sent up a drone to relay a message that you will want to hear.”

X and the general went to the CIC with Miles trotting behind them, tail wagging with excitement. He seemed to be getting along okay. They crossed half the supercarrier to their destination.

Timothy stood in the center of the room, arms folded across his chest. He lowered them when he turned toward X.

“Ah, King Xavier,” he said. “This way, please.”

He moved into the space they were calling the war room. It was a small quarters with a round table, and six leather chairs around it. Maps lay draped across the table, and two mounted wall monitors displayed a map of Panama and Colombia.

Forge shut the hatch, and a soft light spread across the room as Timothy’s hologram emerged.

“What’s the message?” X asked.

“Playing now,” Timothy replied.

“King Xavier, this is Captain Rolo, relaying a message from the Hell Divers. They have infiltrated the ITC facility and have located the seed vault . . .”

The message crackled and then went on.

“Good news is that the seeds appear undamaged and could at least double our yields through better genetics, and they will certainly produce faster crops,” Rolo said. “The bad news is, the ITC facility is swarming with hostiles.”

Another wave of static broke from the speakers.

“Marvelous news, isn’t it?” Timothy said with a smile. “These seeds could solve many problems back home.”

“Do we have images from archives showing what this vault would look like?” X asked.

“One moment . . .” Timothy vanished.

Replacing his image was a hologram of columns rising up inside a large chamber.

“This is a blueprint,” said the AI. “These seed vaults use the same cryo-chambers as the ones with humans and animals. Before the war started, the hybrid seeds were designed by ITC to provide nutrients to famine-prone areas.”

“Well damn, that would solve our food problems. I remember, when I first became a diver, hearing about a Hell Diver mission long before my time, that raided a facility for seeds that we used on the Hive.”

“We’re sure these seeds will still grow?” Forge asked.

“Yes, they should be safe inside their vaults,” Timothy said. “The difficulty lies in extracting enough of the cases and not damaging them on the way out.”

“They’ll get them out,” X said.

Timothy’s expression turned grim.

“What?” X asked. “You not telling me somethin’, Pepper?”

“I was very excited and didn’t finish the entire message before telling you about the first part.”

“Then play the damn thing.”

A video came on with Captain Rolo’s face. He stared at the camera from under a thick hedge of gray brow.

“King Xavier, you have deployed the Hell Divers to the most radioactive place I’ve ever encountered. I’ve received reports not only of this sky-high radiation, but also of a toxic jungle that has attacked the divers. We also have documentation of a new breed of Sirens, and other vicious creatures inhabiting the ITC facility and surrounding areas.

“Commander Long was wounded during the first part of their journey, and the team wrecked one of the APCs that they sent back up. Further, the storms in the area are growing in size, and I have no idea how they are going to get back into the sky without traveling a vast distance in the surviving APC. I’ll wait for your orders, but we’re getting pounded up here. The ship isn’t going to last forever at this altitude.”

The screen went dark.

“God damn it,” X snorted.

“Should I relay orders?” Timothy asked.

“Tell him my orders are to stay the fuck put,” X replied. “Pardon my language.”

“Quite all right, sir, and I’ll relay your message once I establish communication again.”

“When you do, let him know about our haul of munitions from the Dagger,” X said.

“Yes, sir.”

X looked to Captain Two Skulls and General Forge, the two highest-ranking officers left in the entire Vanguard military.

“We have a decision to make,” X said. “Stand by and wait to see what happens with the Hell Divers, or deploy to Brisbane and help them.”

X looked down at the table, considering his options. They still had no idea where the Coral Castle was, but they did know that the Hell Divers were alive and that they needed help. They hadn’t found an underground city with farms and supplies, but the seeds would help bring the Vanguard Islands back from the brink.

If they could get them back to the Vanguard Islands.

They had already lost too many soldiers over the past few months and during the battle with the machines at Mount Kilimanjaro. X knew that committing more could spell the end of his people.

He cursed the decision he had to make.

But in his heart and his gut, he knew there was only one option.

“Mobilize our forces. Set sail to Moreton Bay, just north of Brisbane. Our mission now is to help the Hell Divers. They are our only hope of salvaging this journey and saving the islands from famine.”

* * * * *

Michael spent most of the early morning trying to make sense of the story Alton had told him. The boy was sleeping in the other room, clearly traumatized after the murder he had witnessed, to say nothing of having just lost his mom. Michael felt terrible for the kid.

He let out a sigh as he considered everything that had happened.

One thing he knew: Alton wasn’t physically capable of killing Oliver, even if he caught him off guard with a weapon. Oliver wasn’t just a big man; he was a fighter who wouldn’t be blindsided by a little kid.

Alton had said he saw a militia soldier do it, but why would he? And why kill a boy? It just didn’t make any sense. There was more to this story than met the eye, and Michael had to sort it.

“What are we going to do?” Layla asked.

She was awake, too, and fully dressed, with her blaster holstered and a knife sheathed on her belt. On any other occasion, Michael might have thought his wife was gearing up for a dive.

Or for war.

“I’m going to figure out what happened,” Michael said. “You’re going to stay here with the babies.”

“What about Alton?”

Michael looked over his shoulder at the sound of rustling in the small family room. Alton sat up in his pallet, rubbing his eyes, his hair a tousled mess.

“I don’t want trouble,” he said. “I’m sorry, I should have stayed—”

“Don’t be sorry, you didn’t do anything wrong,” Michael said. He walked over to Alton. “It’s not your fault what happened, okay?”

Alton trembled, a tear racing down his face.

“Bud, it’s going to be okay,” Michael said. He took off his Marine Corps hat, thinking of the security and peace it brought him, like his former tin hat, but Michael was no longer a child.

“I want you to keep this for me,” Michael said.

Alton glanced up, tears still running down his cheeks. “But the King gave it to you to keep safe.”

“And now I want you to keep it safe.”

“You’re the best person for the job,” Layla said.

Alton looked at them in turn, and then cracked the hint of a smile as he took the hat and put it on. The bill sagged over his head, and Michael helped him readjust it.

“Good, now that it’s settled, you should go back to bed for a bit,” Michael said. “You need rest.”

Layla smiled back at Alton.

“It’s okay, sweetie. Go back to sleep,” she said.

Alton crawled back into the pile of blankets on the floor of the family room.

Michael and Layla went back into the kitchen, near the open window overlooking the water. She took a drink of water and offered him the glass.

“I wish X had never put this burden on you.”

Michael could tell she was angry, and while he understood it, the anger did no good.

“It’s safer than diving,” he said. “Would you rather I be out there in Brisbane, where two nukes went off?”

“No. It’s just . . . I’m sorry, we just need help.”

“Figuring out who to trust is my biggest problem.”

“Trust with the spare food?”

“Partly, yeah.”

Layla looked out the window. “You know, I’ve been thinking about it a lot, and while I understand why X wanted to keep it a secret, maybe that wasn’t the right choice.”

“If people know about it, they’ll want to eat it, and we need to save it for if things get really bad.”

“Things are really bad, Michael.” Layla held his gaze. “I don’t think you realize what will go down if something happens to X, or if the Hell Divers fail.”

“Oh I have . . .”

She reached across the table for his hand. “X trusted you. He put you in charge for a reason. Maybe you should rethink the food. Maybe hearing about it is what people need for hope—to know there’s a backup plan.”

“Maybe, but it could also backfire since I’ve kept it a secret.”

“Anything can backfire, so the question now is, who can you trust?” She pulled her hand back. “Ton and Victor, certainly. How about Steve?”

“Yes, I trust Steve, but I’m unsure about Lieutenant Wynn.”

“Wynn? He’s one of us, and he’s always done what’s in the best interests of our people while also balancing that with the laws X wants him to enforce.”

“I know, but I worry, especially after what Alton told me about a militia guard killing Oliver and Nez.”

“Maybe that’s what he thinks he saw.”

“If it’s true, then why? Why would one of our guards do that?”

Layla shook her head. “Have you talked to Imulah?”

“Not yet.”

“Maybe the scribe he has on that rig knows something we don’t.”

Michael nodded. “You’re right. I’ve been so tired I didn’t even think of it. I’ll meet with him come sunup.”

Hearing a loud wail out of the bedroom, they both went to check on Bray. He had woken up, and his cries stirred Rhino Jr., who fussed even louder.

“Great,” Michael said. He pulled Bray out of his crib, and Layla picked up Rhino Jr. Michael was amazed at how heavy Bray felt already. He had grown so fast. Already walking, and saying a few words. Very soon, he would be swimming, and . . .

Michael didn’t want to think about him growing up. Not yet. He just wanted to enjoy holding his son in this moment.

“Da, da, bapa, bapa,” Bray said.

“Time to go back to sleep,” Michael said. He held Bray tight against his chest, walking around the room with his babbling son until Bray finally went limp against his body.

Layla looked up from where she was rocking Rhino Jr. in a chair. The baby was also back to sleep. They gently put the children back into their cribs.

Michael stood there with his wife watching the kids for a few minutes of solitude. Then he kissed Layla goodbye. “Keep the radio on you at all times,” he said.

“I will. Be careful.”

“Always am.”

Michael grabbed his gear and was halfway through the door when Alton whispered, “Can I come?”

“No, you have to stay here, pal. Help Layla, okay? Watch over her.”

“Okay, but where are you going? ”

“To meet with some friends.”

“Will they help you fix things?”

“Yes, everything is going to be okay.”

Michael forced a smile and unlatched the door, stepping into the hall where Victor and Ton stood guard.

As he closed the door, Michael had a dreadful thought. What if Alton had killed Oliver and Nez?

If that was true, as unlikely as it was, it would mean he was leaving a killer with his wife and the two babies.

“Victor, go inside and watch over my family,” Michael said. “Ton, with me.”

They parted ways, and Michael tried not to think the worst as he and Ton speed-walked down dark hallways. On the way, he radioed Wynn, who was in the command center.

“I’ll be there shortly,” Michael said.

Before heading up that way, Michael took a corridor he rarely visited—the same area where el Pulpo’s many wives once lived, including Sofia.

It took Michael a minute to find the door in the weak candlelight. Finally, he located the right hatch and knocked.

Imulah opened it, looking more awake than Michael had expected.

Dressed in a tunic and sandals, he looked as if he had already been up for hours.

“Chief, how may I assist?” he asked.

“There’s something I have to tell you,” Michael said. “Can I come in?”

“Of course.”

Imulah stepped back and beckoned Michael into his humble space while Ton remained outside with his spear.

“I’ll be right back,” Michael said.

Ton nodded.

After wiping off his shoes in the hallway, Michael stepped inside Imulah’s home.

An Indian rug decorated the small family room that was furnished with a wooden chair and desk. There were no paintings or other art—only a single shelf of books.

The door to his bedroom was slightly ajar, and while Michael didn’t want to pry, he did look in from a distance to see a sleeping pad, blanket, and pillow.

“I know it’s early in the morning, but we need to find out what your scribe on rig 15 knows,” Michael said. “I have reason to believe it was a militia soldier who killed Oliver and Nez.”

“How do you know that?”

Michael decided he had to trust Imulah, who hadn’t betrayed him yet.

“We found Alton—or rather, Alton found me,” he said. “He claims he saw a man in militia uniform who killed them both.”

Imulah raised one gray brow. “If this is true, it could perhaps spark the violence we have feared.”

“I know. That’s why I am telling you. What do you think I should do?”

Imulah turned, paced a few steps, paced back. “If you give up the boy and he tells his story, then you avoid conflict with the sky people from Mount Kilimanjaro, but you won’t be able to save him from whatever justice they see fit to administer on their rig,” he said. “However, if you harbor him and they find out, the sky people could turn against you.”

Michael swallowed hard.

“What we need right now is good news from the king,” Imulah said.

“A distraction.”

“I suppose you could call it that.”

Michael thought back to what Layla said about the food. Good news was exactly what they needed right now.

“Thank you, Imulah,” Michael said. “I’m heading to the command center to meet with Lieutenant Wynn.”

“Very well. I will be up shortly.”

Michael and Ton double-timed it up to the command room, where Steve and Pedro were already waiting with Wynn. They all stood as Michael entered.

Behind them, the first hints of the sunrise pinked the horizon.

It was going to be a beautiful day, but not everyone would see it.

“Steve, how do you feel about taking a little trip?”

“For you, sir, I’d go to hell and back before breakfast.” His toothy grin evaporated. “Wait. You sendin’ me where I think you are?”

Michael thought one last time on his decision, but hiding the food was no longer an option. X wasn’t always right about everything, and he had entrusted Michael to keep the island safe. That was exactly what he was going to do.

“Ton, you and Steve get your rad suits, and grab one for me, too.”

twenty-seven

“Easy,” Edgar said.

Magnolia broke free a rusted bolt from the grate of a utility tunnel big enough they could crouch inside it. After locating a schematic of the facility, they had come here to find the seed vaults.

Through the grate, she could see a chamber where thousands of people and animals lay in suspended animation, awaiting the day the radiation and storms passed.

Twisting her multitool, she went to work on the next bolt. When all four were out, she lifted the grate off, exposing the vast chamber.

She carefully placed the grate on the floor, then went down on both knees and peered out into the open space. The sight took her breath. Thousands of cryo-capsules rose in columns that reached from the floor twenty feet below her, over a hundred feet to the ceiling.

“Is this it?” Edgar whispered.

“Yes!” she replied. “Hold on.”

With her night-vision goggles, she scanned the vast chamber.

On the nearby columns, she could see that no occupants had survived. The glass lids were shattered. Long parallel scratches marked the sides like they had at Hilltop Bastion, where they first learned about the Sirens’ origins and where they discovered Timothy.

She checked the next column, about forty feet away. This one was harder to see, but she noticed something different at the top, where a dark umbrella covered the upper capsules.

What in the wastes . . .

Feeling the weight of a hand on her shoulder plate, Magnolia pulled back.

“What is it?” Edgar whispered.

She swallowed hard as she stared at the ribbed wings of a nightmarish creature.

“I think . . . I think it’s a bat.”

The massive winged monster wasn’t alone. A dozen of the abominations hung from the ceiling, black wings shrouding their meaty bodies.

By the time she finished counting, she identified thirty—all of them sleeping , from what she could tell. And, of course, there could be more.

Maneuvering partway out of the tunnel, she looked down at a sea of dirt across the chamber floor. That meant there was an opening far above—probably the same opening the bats used to access this place.

“Hold on to me,” she said.

Edgar grabbed her back armor, and she leaned out a bit more, staring down. In the green hue of her NVGs, she saw that the dirt wasn’t dirt—it was bat guano that had dropped over the decades, forming a carpet of waste.

Sticking out of the white and black hunks were the remains of people, animals, and creatures captured aboveground. Bones of all sorts, including the eyeless skulls of Sirens, protruded from the piles.

On the other side of the column directly in front of her, Magnolia saw the seed vaults. They were in banks of ten-foot-tall housing units. Each column had ten secured metal vaults. Seeing that the bottom of the vault was partially buried by dirt and guano, Magnolia moved for a better view.

She glanced up to make sure the bats weren’t moving.

The seeds were a game-changer. If they could get the secure boxes up to the airship and back to the Vanguard Islands, it would sustain the population with rapidly growing high yields of nutritionally enhanced strains.

But the first problem was getting them out of here.

She still had to get the boxes out without attracting the attention of the monsters that roosted on the ceiling. There was another option: killing the beasts. But Magnolia wasn’t sure they had the firepower. Not to mention the fact that it could attract more bats, and who knew what else, to their location.

Sweat dripped down her forehead, stinging her tired eyes. Exhausted, she had a hard time seeing despite her night vision. There was no natural light in the chamber, making it nearly impossible to see the far corners of the cavernous space.

She considered climbing down and wondered what else was down there.

After a third scan of the bats, she turned on the tactical light attached to the barrel of her rifle. The beam pierced the darkness, hitting the ground. Sweeping it back and forth, she spotted movement.

She turned the light off.

“What?” Edgar said.

“Shh, quiet!” she hissed.

She flicked on the light again. Curved humps scuttled across the wasteland below. She focused the beam on it as the creature making the tunnel broke through the foot of caked bat guano covering the floor.

A centipede the color of old bones clambered out, using its venomous front claws to snatch at a spider the size of a guinea pig. The two arthropods dueled below.

Magnolia noticed more of the centipedes, also ants.

The constant supply of guano from above seemed to support an entire ecosystem. She kept scanning till her light found double doors near the farthest column.

They looked wide enough to get a seed vault through. But it was a lot of boxes, and they were going to be heavy.

A whirring noise above her made her duck back into the utility tunnel, flicking off her light.

Edgar helped her back inside, and she eased the grate back down into the opening. She bent down and looked out with her night vision back on.

A bat flapped somewhere in the chamber.

She crouched, watching for it. In a blink, the beast swooped down.

Magnolia held the grate in place as the bat flew back up to the ceiling, gobbling down a centipede.

Then it was gone.

She stared, realization setting in. The bats had entered the chamber through a hole in the ceiling. And if they could fit through, so could a seed vault equipped with boosters.

Magnolia turned and motioned for Edgar to move. They started back down the tunnel, moving as quietly as possible, though the metal still creaked under their weight.

She cringed at every footfall.

Somewhere in the facility, a Siren let out a long wail. The divers stopped for a long moment. The noise faded away.

They emerged from the tunnel and hopped out into a corridor of offices for ITC scientists. They were all remarkably well preserved, each furnished with the same desk, chair, and bookshelves.

On some of the shelves were pictures of their families and friends. Awards and university diplomas hung from the walls.

At the far end of the corridor, Gran Jefe and Sofia waited at an open door to a stairwell.

“I saw the seed vaults, but they’re smack underneath a gazillion big-ass bats,” Magnolia reported.

“Bats?” Sofia said.

“Big ones. What’s that?”

Sofia handed her a laminated piece of paper showing the different levels of the facility. “Look at level forty,” she said. “R-and-D Laboratories.”

“So what?” Magnolia asked.

“Sounds like a place we might find some medical supplies. Kade could use some more antibiotics.”

“Okay, I’ll check it out with Edgar,” Magnolia said. “Sofia, you and Gran Jefe head topside and tell Arlo I want him to remove the extra boosters from the APC. We’re going to get those seeds into the sky.”

“What about the bats?”

Gran Jefe tapped the grenades on his vest. “No hay problema,” he said with a chuckle.

It was a dangerous plan, but the best thing she could come up with.

They split up, and Magnolia returned to the elevator shaft they had used to get into the building. The cables were still hanging from the top, but the car had long since crashed to the bottom, dozens of floors below.

They were fifty floors underground already, deep in a structure built inside a shell that had protected it from the blasts during the war.

Sofia attached her cable rider.

“Be good,” Magnolia said.

“You, too.”

Sofia zipped upward as Magnolia and Edgar moved around Gran Jefe and into another hallway. They took a stairwell down four floors, rifles up and tac lights sweeping the stairs. So far, they had been lucky to avoid any Siren nests, but she had a feeling they were down here somewhere.

Edgar took point, clearing each landing and moving down the next stairs. At level 40, he stopped outside a door marked with small symbols: a syringe and a test tube.

“This is it,” he said.

“I’ll go first.” Magnolia brought up her rifle as he opened the door. She stepped into a long space with ten-foot ceilings, and lab stations with glass dividers.

Most of the glass was cracked or shattered, allowing them easy access.

Magnolia searched for anything useful amid the scattered lab equipment.

“Over here,” Edgar said. He shined his light at a vault.

She rushed over, glass crunching under her boots. Although the odds of finding actual food on the other side weren’t good, she prayed it might contain medicine.

Edgar patched his wrist computer into the keycard panel. The power from the computer brought the panel online, and a few seconds later the computer cracked the code.

The door hissed, the levers on the other side clanking open with a thud that rattled the room.

“Damn it,” Magnolia whispered.

The door groaned even louder as it retracted.

Edgar shined his light inside a small room whose walls were lined with lockboxes.

Magnolia bent down to examine them. They were much smaller than the seed boxes and appeared undisturbed.

“None of these seem to have been raided,” she said. “See if you can get one open.”

Returning to the control panel, Edgar reconnected his computer. Moments later, the individual lockboxes clicked like a hundred magazines being snapped into rifles simultaneously.

Magnolia reached down to the vault in front of her and pushed a button. A tray pushed out, hissing out cold air.

Her wrist monitor picked up a reading of liquid nitrogen, and a temperature of -180 degrees Celsius.

“They’re still frozen,” she said, amazed.

Edgar took a look as she pulled the tray out, exposing vacuum-sealed packets of pills.

“These aren’t run-of-the-mill meds,” he said. “I think these are used to treat cancer and other major stuff.”

“Yeah,” said Magnolia. “I’ve read about these but never found any on a dive. But X did, right?”

“Holy Siren shit,” Edgar breathed. “It’s our lucky day.”

Magnolia grinned, looking around the room. There had to be a hundred of the trays.

“Load up as many bags as you can,” she said. “We’re bringing them with us.”

For the next hour, they worked quickly, unpacking the trays and putting the vacuum-sealed bags on the floor to examine each. Since they couldn’t bring everything, she wanted to get all the best stuff, and looked up each med on her wrist computer.

“These are cancer-treating drugs,” Edgar said. “There is also an antibiotic that works against all bacteria.”

“Lucky, lucky, lucky,” she said.

A high-pitched wail suddenly burst through the facility.

She raised her rifle, in her haste dropping the vial she was holding. The glass shattered on the floor, exposing the precious liquid.

Weapons up, she and Edgar moved out of view from the open vault door, keeping to the side and dousing their lights.

Darkness shrouded them. A glare came from outside the space, where Edgar had left his wrist computer plugged into the control panel.

A wet, slapping sound made its way into the labs outside the vault, followed by a crashing of upended furniture and a crunching of glass.

Next came a hiss, then a throaty croak.

Magnolia could see partway out the door into the labs but couldn’t make out the source of the noise.

Edgar moved back slightly, as if he had seen something.

Metal shrieked as the beast slammed into tables and cabinets. Sniffing followed, then a clicking noise.

Heart in her throat, she moved her finger to the trigger as wet footfalls slapped toward them.

The monster was coming right toward the vault. It knew they were here, Magnolia was certain of it.

Edgar nodded at her, and she nodded back. They had no choice but to fight.

As she prepared to fire, she eyed the glowing panel.

This beast, whatever it was, must have seen the light.

She suddenly waved Edgar back.

A moment later, the creature stopped in front of the vault, sniffing the air. It let out a croak that echoed inside the room.

Magnolia saw the tip of a scaly head. It moved closer to the panel, sniffing perhaps. The elongated neck was covered in the same yellow scales. Reddish moss grew between the ridges.

Being this close to the Siren sent a chill up her spine.

She closed her eyes and tried to remain as calm as possible, knowing that the slightest move could draw it to them. And if one came, the entire nest would follow.

Her mind transported her to the last time she had danced with Rodger, right before they left for Panama. She promised herself then that if she got out of here, she would dedicate her life to him and their relationship.

That was all she wanted now: a life with Rodger.

Clanking snapped her from her thoughts. The distant noise resonated through the facility. The beast whirled, let out a croak, and bolted away.

Magnolia opened her eyes but remained frozen until Edgar finally stepped in front of the vault.

“It’s gone,” he said. “Let’s get these meds back to the elevator.”

They hurried and picked them up, packing the bag as tightly as possible. She slung it over her shoulders, right over her booster pack.

Edgar led the way with his rifle up. Gooey greenish footprints trailed out of the room.

They entered the hallway, following the tracks to the stairwell. Skittering echoed down as the beast clambered upward.

“It’s heading toward the elevator,” Magnolia whispered.

Edgar moved faster, clearing each landing and shining his light around the corners.

A wail erupted not far above them, freezing them where they stood. The crying resonated but faded into a clanking noise.

Magnolia recognized it instantly: someone was using a cable rider.

Her heart pounded.

The clanking noise that had attracted the Siren was from the other divers.

Edgar was already loping up the stairs. By the time Magnolia caught up, the Siren was shrieking again, and a human cry answered.

Sofia!

Magnolia bolted into the hallway, nearly slamming into Edgar, who was aiming his rifle at the scaly hide of the Siren that was on top of Sofia. She was on her back, one hand holding the beast’s head back as its wide jaw snapped at her helmet.

“I can’t get a shot,” Edgar said.

A massive figure that had to be Gran Jefe emerged in the open elevator door. He unlocked his cable rider and used it to smash the Siren in the face when it looked up.

Jagged teeth sprinkled onto the floor. The beast turned to run, but Gran Jefe grabbed it and lifted it up in one hand. He twisted its neck with an audible snap.

The creature went limp in his grip and slumped to the ground.

Magnolia went to Sofia, who backed away until she hit the wall.

“You okay?” Magnolia asked.

Edgar moved over to form a shield with Gran Jefe, but Magnolia didn’t hear any more wails or shrieks.

“Sofia,” Magnolia said.

“I’m . . .” Sofia gasped for air. She tried to sit up, but Magnolia put a hand on her chest plate.

“Take it easy,” Magnolia said. “Hold still. Let me check you over.”

She scanned Sofia’s suit for tears, finding one along the right arm.

Magnolia tried to keep calm as she searched her bag for a patch to seal the tear. Every second that passed meant more rads going into Sofia.

A whirring rushed out of the elevator shaft.

Gran Jefe strode over and looked up.

“Monstruos,” he said. “Más.”

“We told Arlo, and he is working on the boosters,” Sofia said.

“Good, we’ll head back there soon,” Edgar said.

Magnolia finished patching up Sofia’s suit and helped her to her feet.

One by one, they went up the shaft. Last up, Magnolia looked down to make sure they weren’t being followed.

She carried the bag of meds on the trek back to the APC. The vehicle was back from sending a message topside, and parked not far from the cave-in.

Arlo was in the turret. He let go of the .50 and climbed down.

“I got the boosters removed,” he said proudly. “And Kade was able to get through with your messages.”

“Good job,” Magnolia said. “We’ll be out of here in no time with seeds and some new meds.”

“I knew coming here was a great idea.”

Magnolia couldn’t hold back a smile. So far, their luck was holding. They just needed Captain Rolo to come through.

The divers all climbed back into the NBC-rated personnel carrier and Magnolia tried to send a message to Rolo. It wasn’t a surprise when she couldn’t get through, being underground and with the storm over the city.

“We’re going to have to go back topside for another message,” she said. “Try from the surface. Once we confirm the airship is in position, we’ll go back into the facility and use the boosters to send the seeds up.”

“The bastard better be up there when we need him,” Sofia said.

Magnolia took a drink of water and tried to relax in her seat as Edgar drove back out the way they had come. When they got back to the surface, she looked for the highest place to send a message. There was a six-story building about a block away that looked sturdy enough. Vines waterfalled over the side in a mix of reds and purples—an oddly beautiful sight.

“I’ll come with you,” Edgar said.

“No, I go,” Gran Jefe said.

He accompanied Magnolia through the debris-ridden street and into the building. Once inside, they worked their way up an enclosed stairwell to the roof.

Lightning sizzled across the ruined skyline. Magnolia studied the clouds, praying Captain Rolo was still above the storm, and waiting.

“Captain Rolo, this is Commander Katib. We have located the seed vaults and will attempt to send them up to the airship with boosters,” Magnolia said. “I need you to hover above the storm clouds directly over the former ITC facility.”

She tried sending a message again to no response.

On the third try, she heard a voice over the static.

It sounded like . . . “Copy.”

Magnolia sent the same message again.

“We will be in position . . .” the channel crackled. “Good luck.”

She let out a sigh of relief and rushed back to the APC with Gran Jefe. Once inside, she practically melted into her seat, greedily accepting a few minutes rest on the drive back through the tunnel.

It didn’t take long to drift off, but before she was fully asleep, a voice stirred her alert.

“You hear that?” Arlo asked.

“Sí,” Gran Jefe said.

Edgar had stopped the vehicle and turned off the engine.

Magnolia sat up straight to listen, recalling what the other divers had seen when she was in the ITC facility. “Keep quiet,” she said. “We’re safe in here.”

twenty-eight

“No here?” asked Lieutenant Bromista.

Rodger finished searching the personal quarters for Yejun, but the kid was gone. They had searched the entire ship, and he wasn’t on it.

“Why the hell would you leave?” Rodger muttered.

Unless being out there was safer than being here . . .

He stepped up to the porthole, looking out over the jungle. The glowing phenomenon had waned, but he could still see distant lights.

“Estúpido,” Bromista said.

Rodger went back down to the cargo hold, where most of the noncritical workers were trying to snag a few extra hours’ sleep. He found Joshua, the salvage expert, resting in a corner.

“Hey,” Rodger said, nudging Joshua with his prosthetic foot.

Joshua jerked and lifted his head from the coat he was using as a pillow.

“What? Is the radiation closer?”

“No, I need your help.”

Joshua pushed himself up.

“You’re sure you searched the entire ship for Yejun?” Rodger asked.

“Yes. He’s not here.”

Rodger looked up at the overhead. The only place Yejun could be was one of the most dangerous places of all.

“He could have just gone to the grave site,” he said.

But why would he go to see them now? Unless Yejun was ready to die.

Rodger shook his head. Nothing was making sense, but he at least had an idea where the kid had gone.

“You’re not thinking about going out there?” Joshua asked. “With the radiation spikes and—”

“I need to bring him back.”

“Why? Honestly, Director Mintel, I don’t see why you care about that kid.”

“For one thing, he knows this place—which should matter to you. And second, he’s one of us.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t know what kind of psycho wants to live out here, anyway.”

“This is his home, and he survived out here for the better part of a decade.”

“By hiding.”

“So? He kept himself from getting eaten. We can learn from him.”

Rodger went to Lieutenant Bromista, who was laughing with a group of soldiers. He didn’t understand much of the Spanish, but he did hear Bromista say Yejun’s name.

They turned toward him.

“What’s the joke?” Rodger asked.

“No es nada,” Bromista said.

“Get ready, we’re going out there.”

“What?”

“The radiation spike has dissipated, and we need to find Yejun.”

Bromista hardened, all trace of jocularity gone. But he didn’t protest the order. Instead, he flashed hand signals to the four men who had accompanied him here.

Rodger put on his radiation suit, grabbed his duty belt, holstered his blaster, and met the team of Cazador soldiers outside.

An APC waited, its back hatch open.

Rodger ducked inside and took a seat across from Bromista.

The APC pulled away from the Osprey, thumping over the rocky terrain. Acid rain pecked against the vehicle’s armor like a thousand little pencils at once. Rodger stared out the windshield at the raging electrical storm.

“¿Dónde? ” Bromista asked.

Rodger pointed across the canal.

The Cazador still didn’t question Rodger’s order, although Rodger himself did. Even with the threat of radiation lower now, he was risking these men and himself for Yejun. But finding Yejun was the key to understanding what was happening out here.

Rodger believed that fully now.

They drove across the bridge and into the salvage yard. Containers were stacked in neat rows on the eastern edge. Above them, a hill looked over the field where the graves were.

The APC drove up the muddy path and halted at the top.

Rodger unbuckled and followed the four Cazador soldiers armed with a variety of weapons, including a flamethrower. He pulled his blaster and fell in with the team as they spread out.

The edge of the jungle was only a mile away, its canopy a wall on the horizon. Rodger didn’t see any sign of the glow from earlier, or any of the mutant monsters.

The soldiers fanned out, moving across the field of knee-high weeds. Industrial equipment littered the terrain—pieces of cranes, shards of metal, hubcaps. All sorts of old-world debris.

Bromista suddenly raised a hand. The soldiers all went down on their knees.

Rodger crouched, or tried to, but ended up falling because of his prosthetic foot. He pushed himself up and saw a single light not far ahead. This wasn’t the glow from earlier.

This was just a pinprick.

Rodger went over to Bromista, who pointed at the light and then at muddy tracks. They started to follow the trail.

Their flashlight beams flitted across the weeds and rubble. Rodger watched the light, which was now a fiery, flickering orange glow.

He readied his Blaster.

Bromista signaled two warriors to advance.

“Wait,” Rodger said.

He pushed ahead despite the protests from Bromista.

Rodger didn’t stop until he saw Yejun, kneeling in front of the candle on a fresh mound of dirt. He held a picture in his hands.

Turning, Rodger waved the soldiers back.

Bromista stood his ground, unwavering.

Fine, don’t listen, Rodger thought. He walked over and stood beside the boy, who stared at the picture of his family.

“Yejun,” Rodger said quietly.

The kid tilted his bird helmet up but said nothing.

Bending down, Rodger spoke into his translator. “Yejun, please come back with us. It’s not safe here.”

Yejun didn’t hesitate after the translation. “It’s not safe anywhere,” he said. “You saw what turned my family, and soon it will come for us.”

Rodger got down and sat in the dirt.

The kid had never given them the full picture of what happened when his parents left the ship. More details would help.

“Yejun, you need to tell me what happened to your family. You must tell me before the same thing happens to all of us.”

Yejun stared at the picture of his parents and sister.

Rodger put a hand on his shoulder. “You were just a kid. What happened wasn’t your fault.”

“There are no kids in the death lands.”

“Don’t blame yourself. You did what your parents would have wanted you to do: to come back and save your sister.”

He looked at Rodger again. “She was with us. We were all together, trying to get on the boat of those dead men.”

Even with the translator, Rodger didn’t quite understand what he was hearing.

“What dead men?”

Yejun turned back to the canal. “The bones you found,” he said.

Rodger narrowed his eyes, trying to understand.

“Those people came before,” Yejun said. “They came on a ship.”

“The Sea Sprite?”

“I don’t know. A few of them transformed into the monsters long before we got here. The others escaped.”

Yejun lowered his translator.

Things were starting to make sense to Rodger, the pieces of the puzzle falling into place. The Cazadores who came here on the Sea Sprite forty years ago had awoken the same ancient evil, some of them transforming into the radioactive monsters in the port.

But the rest, apparently, had escaped.

Bromista walked over.

Rodger held up a finger to indicate another minute.

“No más,” Bromista said. “We move.”

“Okay.”

The lieutenant walked away on his prosthetic legs, and Rodger leaned over to Yejun.

“What you told me, you can’t tell anyone else,” he said.

Rodger knew what would happen if the Cazadores found out that Yejun was hiding information. Most of them already thought he was crazy, and if they discovered the truth, they might hurt him, or worse.

No one understood how important Yejun was, and Rodger was slowly gaining his trust. He stood and reached down to Yejun, who looked up skeptically.

“It’s okay,” Rodger said. “I’m your friend; you can trust me.”

Yejun took his hand and stood. They went back up to the soldiers, who were all looking off toward the remains of Panama City. A single light, like a star in a dark sky, winked on in the distance.

Rodger fished out his binoculars from his backpack, focusing them on the figure of a deer. Light pulsated out of the body, up the neck, illuminating a deformed face and an elaborate rack of antlers.

Another light winked on next to it, then another.

Within seconds, an entire herd of deer had walked out of the jungle. The one deer from earlier was now a dozen.

Rodger stared in horror.

The radiation spike and the same glowing light phenomenon they had witnessed from the Osprey had transformed them all into these bioluminescent creatures.

“Go,” he said. “Get back to the truck.”

* * * * *

“King Xavier, we’re closing in on Moreton Bay.”

The deep voice of Captain Two Skulls boomed in King Xavier’s personal quarters aboard the supercarrier Immortal. Fumbling for the intercom, he replied in a tired grumble.

“Copy that. Have you made contact with Captain Rolo?”

“Negative.”

“Keep trying.”

“Roger that, sir.”

X sat up in his bed and checked his wrist computer: just before six in the morning. Miles was already up, watching him and waiting eagerly for his morning meal.

“Hold on, buddy,” X groaned.

He rolled onto his stomach, desperately wanting more sleep.

Back at the Vanguard Islands, the sun would still be high in the sky.

Chances were, there would be less food than yesterday.

X thought back to some of the riots on the Hive over food shortages. It seemed like a different life back then, when he was just a functioning drunk with a death wish.

He had helped humanity crawl out of the darkness and find a home.

And now everything at the Vanguard Islands hinged on the work of the Vanguard army and the Hell Divers. If they completed their mission and returned home with seeds and supplies, they would have a shot at a future.

If not, X feared that the islands would collapse into chaos and bloodshed.

Right now the place was hanging on by a thread, and keeping that thread intact was a young man in his twenties with a heart of gold and a good brain.

I wish his dad could have seen him grow up.

X remembered his old best friend and teammate, Aaron Everhart. He had raised Michael well, and Aaron would be damn proud of the young man Michael had become.

“Hold on just a little longer, Michael,” X whispered.

He got up, unable to sleep with so much weighing on his mind. After feeding Miles and relieving himself, X headed deep belowdecks to the huge well at the stern.

A miscellany of boats hung from lifts around the sprawling belowdecks cargo hold. One, a tactical assault boat, was being prepared for launch. A crane lowered a single APC toward the deck of the sixty-foot-long assault craft.

Standing in front of a group of ten soldiers outside the platform was General Forge, his helmet clutched under one arm. There were twenty men total—half militia, half Cazadores.

X half expected to see Slayer here, but the Barracuda lieutenant had finally gotten an injury that needed time to heal.

Staying back, X and Miles looked on. The men and women facing him were all listening to Forge’s briefing about what awaited them in Brisbane.

Forge didn’t sugarcoat a single word any more than X would have. In the wastes, the unvarnished truth mattered. These soldiers needed to know what was out there.

The earpiece X wore crackled with a message from Timothy.

“Sir, I’ve picked up a transmission,” said the AI. “This is from Team Raptor.”

X felt his heart thump.

“It was sent a few hours ago.”

The message from Magnolia played over the comms, explaining she had located the seed vaults and would be attempting to send them up to the airship with boosters, and requesting that the airship hover above the ITC facility to intercept.

“And we still don’t know if Captain Rolo got the message?” X asked Timothy.

“Yes, he did, but we have not been able to reach him since. More than likely due to the storms—especially if he is in position above the storms in Brisbane.”

X hoped that was the case, but he didn’t trust Rolo—especially considering how much Rolo had pushed back against going to Brisbane in the first place.

“Son of a bitch,” X said.

General Forge and the group of soldiers looked over at him.

“Carry on,” X said.

He stormed out of the room and headed to the CIC. When he got there, dozens of monitors illuminated a room alive with activity.

X made his way across to the helm, ignoring the formality of returning officers’ salutes. At the viewports, he got his first glimpse of Brisbane.

A wall of bulging storm clouds flashed across the horizon, capturing a scene of devastation unlike many he had ever seen. The entire coast was destroyed, not a single building left standing.

“Sir,” Captain Two Skulls said. He walked over, joined by Timothy, who emerged in holographic form.

“We have to get word to Captain Rolo,” X said. “Send out a drone to find the damned airship.”

“Already done, sir. I deployed one about thirty minutes ago.”

“Where?”

“To the coordinates of the ITC facility.”

A monitor relayed the mirror image from the drone as it searched the storm clouds. X paced in front of the viewports as they waited.

General Forge took off his helmet, revealing his scarred face and scalp.

“My team is ready, King Xavier,” he said.

X nodded back. He checked the maps again, looking for the best route on the ground if it came down to deploying General Forge and his team.

He wondered if maybe heading in by water would be better.

“Timothy, after the drone finds the airship, I want you to send it out to check these coordinates,” X ordered. He tapped the screen to highlight multiple rivers for potential entry into the destroyed city.

“Copy that, sir,” replied the AI. “We’re about to see the top of this storm.”

X crowded around the monitor with General Forge and Captain Two Skulls. On the screen, the drone rose to twenty thousand feet.

It broke through the heart of the storm, but the darkness and clouds persisted.

“There,” said X.

He leaned down to look at a black beetle shape hovering at twenty-three thousand feet.

“I’ll be damned, the bastard is there!” X said. “Right where the Hell Divers asked him to be.”

“I’ll attempt contact through the drone,” Timothy said.

A moment later, the gruff voice of Captain Rolo surged over the channel.

“Copy . . . We are . . .”

The message was choppy, but X could tell it was Rolo.

“Captain, this is X. Have you retrieved the seed vaults?”

“Negative, and I can’t hold here forever. We’re getting pounded.”

“She’ll hold. She held for two hundred and sixty years now; she can hold for a few more hours.”

“I don’t think you understand the gravity of the situation . . .” Static surged over the line, cutting off the captain.

“. . . likely to their deaths, and are now asking me to put the ship in jeopardy—something you have done three times now.”

X gritted his teeth. He had dealt with plenty of captains over the years, but Rolo was really testing his nerves.

“You are to hold position, and wait for those seeds,” X said. “They are the future of the islands, do you understand?”

“And if I refuse?”

“Then I will try you for insubordination. And if your disobedience should result in the death of a single crew member, I will personally rip your arms off and beat you to death with them.”

“Dying by your hand is no different from being taken out by this storm, King Xavier. You are damning me one way or the other.”

“The ship will hold, Captain. Suck it up and stay in the air.”

“You’d better hope so.”

The line severed.

“That asshole just turned in his resignation, as far as I’m concerned,” X said to Forge.

“He say this be his last flight,” replied the general.

“And he’s gonna stick by it.”

X turned away from the screen.

“Captain Two Skulls, prepare the boats,” he said. “We’re heading to Brisbane. We are taking the river instead of the highway.”

“We, sir?” Forge asked.

X snorted. “You know I’m not sitting on the sidelines.”

He heard the click of claws on the deck. Miles looked up, also wanting to come along.

“Timothy,” X said into his headset, “tell Corporal Delgado to prepare Jo-Jo. I’m taking her with me.”

“Okay, sir. Oh, and the data for the rivers is ready. I’ll send it to your HUD; stand by.”

“Thanks, Pepper.”

By the time X got back to the well, he had gone over the data and picked the route into the city. His ride in was also ready. The tactical boat hung directly above the water.

The soldiers were already on board, checking over the swivel-mounted flamethrowers, spearguns, and other defenses along the railings framing the stern. A drone was mounted to a launching device, and a triangular radio tower crested the cabin. Blowing in the wind was the Vanguard Islands coat of arms.

A howl broke out across the dry dock.

X saw Jo-Jo knuckle-walk over with Valeria.

Miles went over to meet his friend, wagging his tail harder than normal. X watched the two interact and smiled.

Timothy’s hologram emerged beside X.

“This is a dangerous move,” he said. “I wish you the best of luck.”

“Thanks, Pepper, but I’m not sitting around to wait. You know me.”

“Oh, I do, sir.”

“Wait,” called out a deep voice.

X turned as Captain Two Skulls made his way down a ladder. Traditional Cazador armor covered his large body. He clutched a helmet under one arm and had a rifle slung over his shoulder.

“Pepper, you have ship,” said the captain. “I go with them.”

“We got this, Cap,” X said.

“Sí, sí, but I need to get off this barge for a while.”

X thought on it, then shrugged.

He bent down to Miles as the dog walked over with Jo-Jo.

“I’m sorry, but you got to stay here again,” X said.

“I’ll take good care of him,” said Valeria.

“Thank you.”

She held his gaze a bit longer than normal. Her cheeks turned red—something he hadn’t seen in a long time.

“Be safe, King Xavier,” Valeria said.

If he didn’t know better, he might think the corporal was fond of him.

He couldn’t help but feel buoyed up at that.

Maybe you aren’t as old as you thought.

Miles barked to get his attention, and X leaned down to hug the dog. “See you soon, buddy.”

He turned and joined the crew as they finished final checks on the boat. Jo-Jo followed X across the ramp, onto the boat’s deck.

Miles and Valeria were gone, lost in the sea of activity throughout the sprawling well.

X went inside the cabin, where Captain Two Skulls was at the helm.

A moment later, the lift cranked down, lowering them into the water.

“Ready?” Two Skulls asked.

“Let’s go,” X said.

The captain pushed down on the throttle slowly, easing out of the well. They curved away from the Immortal, and this time X didn’t look back.

The tactical boat sped over the waves, approaching the shore. They were heading for the Caboolture River, according to drone data, the best way into the city.

For once, Mother Nature gave them an advantage, and he was going to seize it. The river was swollen from heavy rains. Its banks had eroded since the war, providing a deep, wide path that went almost to Brisbane. It beat trying to find a route through the dense jungles that had overgrown the highways.

It wasn’t a free ride, however, and X could see right away that the route would be fraught with hazards. The dense jungle canopy framed the river delta, branching out toward the boat.

The captain eased off the throttle, and the rumble of the engines gave way to the caws and hoots of birds and the chirping of insects.

Over the noise came another sound.

Barking . . .

X looked astern and spotted Jo-Jo on the deck. But the animal wasn’t alone.

“Miles, what the fuck!” X shouted.

He burst out of the cabin. The soldiers on the deck all moved out of his way.

“Miles,” X said, lowering his voice.

The dog trotted over to him.

“How did you . . .”

X saw the leash hanging from his neck. The dog had broken free from Valeria and somehow stowed away on the boat, unnoticed by anyone.

X grabbed him by the collar and led him into the cabin.

“The hell, Miles? You’re supposed to be on bed rest,” he said.

Forge and Two Skulls both looked down.

“Want us to turn back?” asked Two Skulls.

Miles wagged his tail, his sapphire-blue eyes pleading with X.

X looked outside the viewports. They had already entered the river. Vines twisted along the banks, and flower petals snapped at insects in the air.

X looked back down to Miles. “You can stay,” he said, “but we need to get you a radiation suit.”

Miles licked at his hand.

Captain Two Skulls nodded at a hatch in the deck. X remembered there was gear down there, including medical supplies and ammunition. He considered stuffing Miles down there for the journey but couldn’t bring himself to do it, knowing that if something happened to the boat, it could turn into a coffin.

X went to the stern hatch and joined the men on the deck with Jo-Jo. They turned on spotlights attached to the port and starboard side, raking the beams across both riverbanks.

Something big splashed into the water and vanished in the current.

X kept his laser rifle cradled, his eyes scanning in all directions.

The howl of a monkey rang out, drawing Jo-Jo to the starboard gunwale. She peered through the razor wire.

Smaller creatures darted away from the beam. Beyond it, golden eyes looked out, glowing in the dense canopy.

X clicked on his infrared optics, and the jungle came alive with white heat signatures. Three monkeys were perched in the lower branches of a tree, solemnly watching the boat.

All the soldiers had weapons up, but X motioned to stand down.

The monkeys swung away through the branches, Jo-Jo gazing after them. She let out a low whine before turning back to X.

They motored up into the main channel, hitting a stronger current. On the port side, smooth boulders protruded from the shallows. Two Skulls steered to the starboard, keeping to the middle of the river.

A beam hit the churning water, and it took X a few seconds to see that these weren’t just boulders. The light captured the brownish-gray scales of a half-submerged beast.

A spiked tail whipped out of the water.

General Forge stepped out of the cabin. “Cocodrilo,” he said.

One of the soldiers shined the spotlight on the massive prehistoric creature, which had to be thirty feet long.

The radiation had changed everything here, so that the entire river ecosystem was alive with deadly plants, animals, and insects. This wasn’t just another foraging mission into the wastes—this was an entirely new world of unknown threats.

X returned to the cabin with Forge, leaving Miles with Captain Two Skulls. He eased off the throttle and turned the wheel to slip past a rock in the middle of the current.

Yellow reptilian eyes broke the surface, and a gargantuan head rose out of the water, revealing a body almost half as long as the boat. It swam away, its armored tail propelling it with long, sinuous strokes.

As the captain pushed the throttle, the long, trumpeting call of a cyclops floated over the canopy. When it finally faded, the jungle was silent as a tomb.

X heard not so much as a peep from a cricket or a tree frog.

Not even Miles made a sound.

It was clear who the alpha predators were out here, and surprisingly, it wasn’t the crocodiles.

“Well, shit,” X said. “Maybe the highway would have been safer.”

twenty-nine

Twelve years ago . . .

“This is it; be ready,” said Captain Rolo.

He looked at Kade.

“You are our best hope,” he whispered.

Kade acknowledged him with a brief dip of his head.

The machines came for him an hour later. Opening the prison door, they led him and four others out. Outside, three other groups of five joined them.

This was the fifth time they had left the machine camp and gone out into the wastes to scavenge on the ITC Victory. And today, they would finally fight back.

Kade was ready to die for the weapons. Two weeks after finding his family’s burned bodies, the mental anguish had become too much.

He was ready to be with them in the afterlife and for the agony to end.

Joey and Charmer were also in the group of twenty prisoners trekking out beyond the walls. They were lucky today; only two defectors accompanied them.

A tank patrolled down the road, moving on six jointed legs that clanked eerily in the wind. Mounted turret guns rotated toward the prisoners before moving on.

Kade tightened his mask in preparation for the journey outside the walls. He knew the route well now and was ready to implement the plan.

Charmer was in charge of the most important part: two EMP grenades that he had hidden on the airship after their last scavenging trip. According to him, they were ready to go and would knock out both machines as well as a tank.

The plan was to disable the machines first, steal their laser weapons, and then use the second grenade on the tank. Then they would head back into the ship and get more weapons, arming the other prisoners. From there, they would flee to the hills, where they would hide in caves and wait until dark to enter the camp and free the others.

Kade knew the chances for success were slim, but if there was a chance, he would take it.

Shouting rose over the wind, and he turned toward the rows of buildings. A defector escorted three small people away from the structure at the end of the camp. Seeing its dark windows and lack of activity, Kade had thought the structure abandoned. But these three people were clearly being held there.

The machine walked behind them with a laser rifle aimed at their backs.

Kade watched for a moment. His heart caught when he saw that these prisoners were kids. Two boys and a girl.

The boys were sobbing as Kade walked toward them. They were around seven or eight years old. He didn’t recognize them and figured they were from the other airships.

The girl stood looking directly at Kade, not a tear in her eye.

“Tia,” Kade whispered.

He had thought she was dead all this time.

The machine with them raised a rifle at Kade as he walked over.

“Get back,” it said.

Kade put up his hands and took a step back as the machine escorted the three children to the front of the group he was with.

“Damn, now there are three!” Joey whispered.

“Kade, come on,” Charmer said.

The gates opened onto the wastelands, blasting the group with windblown grit. Kade kept close to Joey and Charmer but watched Tia, at the front with the two boys.

“Why would they bring the kids?” Joey asked. He was nervous, looking at the machines more than usual. They didn’t seem to notice, or if they did, Kade couldn’t tell.

“This changes nothing,” Charmer said. “We move ahead with the plan, got it?”

He was looking at Kade. Kade nodded.

The wind picked up as they neared the wreck of the Victory. Kade felt his guts tighten on approach, not because of what was about to happen, but because his family’s bodies were still inside the burned airship.

He remembered his promise to his wife.

But he also remembered his promise to his Hell Diver comrade Raphael about looking after his daughter. Seeing Tia alive made him wonder if he was doing the right thing.

What if he ended up getting her killed?

Or what if you end up saving her?

The lead machine stopped at the stern of the airship and turned toward the group.

“Today you are to salvage batteries,” it ordered. Then it rotated its face down toward the kids.

“Find the central processor,” it said.

Kade stepped closer to Charmer. “Where’s the central processor?” he whispered.

“Under the CIC.”

“No wonder they’re using kids. They need them to crawl under the decks.”

The group spread out, moving into the ship while two of the defectors remained outside. The third went inside with the children.

Kade spotted an object in the sky to the east. Joey saw it, too.

“They got a drone up,” he said.

Charmer cursed under his breath. “Keep an eye on it,” he said. “If it’s still up there, we’ll need to take it down before we run.”

Kade noted the position of the other two machines while he waited to enter the ship.

None of the other prisoners had any idea what they were going to do, but Kade knew that many of them would join in and follow him into the hills after the attack.

He planned on grabbing Tia, too, and taking her away from this place. But as he looked out at the foothills of Mount Kilimanjaro, he began to understand the sheer impossibility of success. Even if they could escape the machines, what would they do for food?

He was a Hell Diver—part soldier, part survivalist—but even he didn’t have the skills to last long out here. There was no telling what monsters prowled in the forests and savanna beyond his line of sight.

Finding Tia had suddenly changed his outlook on the mission—a mission he was hoping to die on in order to save the others.

“Move,” said one of the machines.

The group began to fan out, entering the wreck through the many doorways and holes in the hull. Kade remained with Charmer and Joey, slipping inside a passage littered with debris.

Dirt and sand had blown inside, coating the metal with a thin beige layer of grit. Two more prisoners followed them into a stairwell.

Kade was unfamiliar with these passages, and the damage from the wreck made it even more difficult to see where they were going.

But Charmer knew every twist and turn like the back of his hand. He guided them with his flashlight, shining the beam over the deck so no one fell through an opening or snagged a leg on a jagged piece of metal.

The scent of sewage intensified as they made their way toward the water treatment plant. Kade finally saw something he recognized: a hatch with a hazard sign on it. He used to go there after dives to pick up his armor postdecontamination.

“Go on through,” Charmer said.

“Wait,” he said.

The other prisoners squeezed by them, toward the treatment plant.

“What?” Joey asked.

“I want to check something,” Kade said.

He opened the hatch to the decontamination room, searching for any armor that might be inside. The crates and tool chests were toppled, drawers open, tools scattered about.

Racks that once held armor were empty, but there was a set on the ground. He picked it up and then handed it to Joey. “Put this on,” he said.

The young man reached out with a visible swell of pride. Kade helped him put on the chest rig. There was no battery unit, but it would protect him from a laser bolt to the heart.

“Come on,” Charmer said.

They pushed back into the tunnel, but now that the other prisoners were gone, they took another route. Charmer moved quickly through the dark passages until they finally arrived at the third deck, close to where he had left the EMP grenades.

He checked the wide passage, once a major artery through the ship. Seeing no contacts, they kept going. The CIC wasn’t far from here, but neither was the defector.

Kade could hear it clanking in the distance, but they still had to find the other two machines. He motioned them to follow him into a briefing room. The hatch was ajar, and Kade slipped inside, moving past a table where he had sat hundreds of times for briefings.

The wind gusted against the glass, making it difficult to see, but Kade could see the machines still waiting outside.

“We’re going to have to split up now to make this work,” he said. “I’ll take down the machine at the CIC, free the kids, and take the rifle while you two take down the two defectors outside.”

Charmer wiped the sweat off his brow. “Okay,” he said.

“Let’s do it,” Joey said.

They sneaked back down the passage and made a beeline for the EMP grenades. A few minutes later, Charmer held up a fist.

Kade and Joey hid while Charmer pulled back a piece of metal and, reaching inside the deck, pulled out a small sack. He hurried over.

“Good luck,” he said.

Kade took the grenade, and Joey took the other in a shaky hand.

“I’m good,” Joey said. “I’ve waited a long time for this.”

The look in the youngster’s eye was familiar to Kade. He could still remember when he was a teenager and invincible. But it took only a few dives and watching young men and women die in the sky and on the surface to realize that no one was invincible.

“Be careful,” Kade said as they parted ways.

Sunbeams speared through broken windows into the passage back to the CIC. The rays shifted like ghosts of the passengers who once walked these hallways.

He thought of his family as he carried the grenade. He was ready to die for them. Ready to die to save Tia.

The sun went behind a cloud, shrouding the hallway in darkness. Kade stopped when he heard the voice, a second before he saw the figure.

At the end of the passage, a hulking mechanical warrior stood holding a kicking figure.

“Let me go!” Tia shouted, kicking at the machine.

Screaming rose in the distance, and the sizzle of laser fire silenced it. The machine holding Tia turned and started off in the opposite direction.

Kade seized the opportunity and ran over to her. As he hurried down the passage, a distant clanking rang out.

A whirring followed, and an explosion knocked him off his feet. He landed in front of an open hatch, glass raining down inside the room. Ears ringing and vision blurred, he fought to push himself up.

When he was on both knees, he saw two defectors down in the dirt outside, both of their metal bodies twitching.

Kade turned to Tia, who lay on the deck, coughing. He crawled over to her.

Her lips moved when she saw him, but Kade couldn’t hear anything past the ringing. He forced himself up to his feet, staggering but keeping his balance. Tremors rushed under his boots.

Kade turned to look out the shattered viewport at movement on a mound of sand. He stumbled closer.

A tank clambered over the top of the hill, firing dual laser cannons at the airship. A bolt slammed into the hull, knocking him back to the deck.

Kade watched in horror as prisoners fell in pieces or vaporized from the tank’s laser fire.

He searched for Joey and Charmer but saw neither of them.

Tia grabbed him by the arm and pulled on his sleeve. He moved away from the window for cover.

“Go!” he said. “Get out of here.”

Tia clung to him, shaking her head.

The tank kept coming, firing at scattering prisoners, who fled back inside. Another blast rattled the hull.

Laser fire streaked away from a hunk of metal outside. Kade got up and saw that it was Joey firing at the tank. He squeezed off another flurry of shots, then bolted to new cover before the turrets could lock on.

Kade held up the grenade, knowing that if he threw it, he and Tia would likely die. But if he didn’t, Joey would definitely die.

Firing again, Joey ran and slid behind a rock.

“Tia, get out of here!” Kade said. He pushed her away and waited several seconds before she took off running.

As she vanished around a corner, Kade attached the EMP grenade’s cord to the battery. He waited another second for the tank to take two more jerking, halting steps.

The turrets on the tank rotated toward Joey.

Kade flung the grenade out the window. It sailed toward the tank and detonated above the turrets just as they unleashed a salvo on the rock.

Kade looked down to the spot Joey had been moments ago. He was still there, reduced to smoking meat.

“No,” Kade whispered.

A voice called out behind him, and he turned to find Charmer. He was shaking, his face covered in ash.

“It’s over,” he said. “It’s all over.”

* * * * *

The world shook.

Kade sat up, drowsy from the new meds they had given him. It took a few seconds to get his bearings. He was still in the APC, trapped in the subway tunnel. Edgar had stopped and turned off the engine not long after Magnolia got a message up to Captain Rolo.

According to his HUD, they had been stranded inside the tunnel for three hours now due to the hostile activity.

The other divers were all awake and looking out the windshield.

None of them said a word, but Magnolia signaled for Kade to be quiet when he tried to get out of his seat.

He activated his night-vision optics but saw nothing in the tunnel.

He knew that Gran Jefe was moving his rifle around for a reason.

Switching to infrared, Kade blinked when he saw the entire tunnel come alive with white heat signatures of humanoid shapes, reminding him of a nightmare on the airship. But these weren’t rays of light or ghosts of dead family and friends.

These were Sirens.

They clambered over the ceiling and walls and across the tracks, surrounding the APC from all directions. Some stopped to sniff the air.

Everything in the vehicle was off, but somehow the beasts knew they were here.

“What do we do?”

The voice came from his right, and Kade looked over to Tia.

“We stay quiet,” Magnolia said. “We’re safe here.”

“Are we?” Arlo whispered back.

The largest of the beasts moved closer than the others, clawing at the air with an audible whoosh. This was a female, with muscular arms, legs, and an hourglass-shaped torso.

Kade turned off his infrared, and the beast vanished from his sights.

Switching back to infrared, it was still there.

They were camouflaged. Their scaly armor blended in with the tunnel, making the eyeless monsters all but impossible to see.

The female moved closer on all fours, back hunched like a cat.

Minutes ticked by. Ten, then fifteen. More of the creatures burst into the tunnel. A few of them let out low wails that sounded like sobbing.

The female suddenly jumped to the hood of the APC, landing with a thud. It leaned down, and this time when Kade turned off his infrared, he saw her skull in his NVGs.

It lowered the misshapen head with its bony crest. The wide jaw opened in what looked like a grin.

Serrated teeth protruded behind wormy black lips that stretched as the female let out a low growl. Then it reared its head back, sniffed the air, and let out a loud wail before bringing the bony crest of its head down against the glass.

Edgar moved his hand, but Magnolia stopped him with a look.

“It will hold,” she said.

The beast slammed against the windshield again. On the fifth hit, spiderwebs radiated from the impact point.

Edgar moved again, and this time Magnolia didn’t say anything.

“We can’t let it penetrate, or we will all die from the toxins and radiation,” he said.

All around the vehicle, the Sirens closed in as their queen, or whatever the hell she was, kept slamming into the glass.

“Gran Jefe, get in the turret,” Magnolia said. “Edgar, get ready to drive. We can’t sit down here anymore. We have to move.”

Kade stared at the growing cracks in the glass and grabbed his laser rifle.

The beast stopped for a minute and turned its head toward the turret. Then it twisted back toward the glass, leaning down. A lizard-like tongue the color of a tangerine dragged across the cracks, leaving a sticky goo on the surface.

It moved its tongue fast in a wide arc that suddenly started to hiss. Smoke rose off the windshield.

“You got to be kidding me,” Edgar said. “That’s some sort of—”

The .50-caliber barked above them, and the face exploded in a burst of gore, leaving only the tongue slimed against the windshield as the body slid off.

Gran Jefe raked the big gun back and forth, chasing the Sirens with a spray of bullets. Another female slammed into the rear hatch, and two more crashed into the side, rocking the vehicle with the impacts.

A male swooped down, corkscrewing into the wall when the rounds shredded its right wing.

Kade moved over to Tia, who was shaking in her seat. The sound of gunfire and shrieks of the monsters formed an unholy, echoing chorus.

More of the winged freaks sailed through the tunnel, one of them landing on top of the APC with a thud. The gunfire stopped, but the attack didn’t. Sirens pummeled the vehicle from all sides with their scaly, muscular bodies.

“I no see!” Gran Jefe said. “I no see!”

The windshield continued to hiss as two creatures jumped onto the hood, slipping and sliding in the gore from the big female’s head.

“It’s not going to hold,” Edgar said.

“Get back,” Magnolia ordered.

They climbed into the troop hold, huddling with the rest of the divers in the tight space. Kade, Tia, and Arlo aimed their rifles at the back hatch while Edgar, Magnolia, and Sofia pointed theirs at the windshield.

“Get ready,” she said. “We’re going to have to make a stand. But do not leave this truck until we have to.”

The rifle shook in Tia’s hand.

“It’s going to be okay,” Kade said. “Keep steady and make sure you aim before you shoot.”

“I know, I know,” Tia repeated.

The middle of the windshield sloshed inward like a waterfall, emptying liquid glass onto the seats.

Both beasts on the hood surged forward, trying to squeeze through the opening. Edgar put simmering holes in their foreheads. They both slumped into the opening, their legs kicking on the hood.

A male landed, retracting its wings as it grabbed both pairs of legs and yanked them out, prying shards of glass away with them.

Magnolia fired with Edgar, the lasers lancing into the gray-brown scales that turned a sizzling red with each impact.

The beast roared and leaped off.

An explosion burst in front of the vehicle, sending chunks of concrete raining down. Pieces of steaming meat crashed onto the hood. Over the ringing, Kade heard the monsters fleeing, their wails and shrieks growing distant.

He moved to the hatch and pulled back a window shutter to look out. The shadows bolted away, melting into the darkness.

Gran Jefe climbed down from the turret with his grenade launcher.

“Ugly cabrones,” he said with a chuckle.

“We have to move on foot,” Magnolia said. “Arlo, get to the surface and send up another message to the airship that we’ve been pinned down but are now on our way to get the seed vaults into the air.”

“I’ll go with him,” Sofia said.

Magnolia hesitated, then nodded.

“Kade, how you feeling?” she asked.

“Groggy, but I’m okay.”

As the group made their preparations, Kade noticed his battery was at 22 percent. Not much time at all. Maybe another five to eight hours before he needed to recharge. He was also running low on water.

“Good luck, everyone,” Magnolia said.

The divers opened the back hatch and met outside the front of the truck. Kade watched them from the back seat through the broken windshield. The teams parted ways, heading in opposite directions.

Tia took a seat next to Kade. He could only imagine how terrified she was now that it was just the two of them.

He, too, felt a trickle of fear.

Shadows darted across the wide tunnel outside, each one a potential hostile. He kept his rifle at the ready. Tia, too, gripped her rifle.

“Tia,” Kade whispered.

She looked over.

“I’m going to protect you,” he said. “Nothing’s going to happen to us, okay?”

“Okay.”

Kade had kept his promise to her dad the day he died, and he was going to keep it again.

thirty

Michael took a deep breath, hoping he was doing the right thing. Holding up his wrist computer, he recorded a message for X.

“King Xavier, when I was a Hell Diver you told me to always trust my instincts, follow my heart, and improvise when things went bad,” he said into his wrist computer. “Today, that’s exactly what I’m going to do.”

He paused to consider his next words.

“The food that could save us has become the greatest threat to our people, and I’ve decided to tell everyone that it exists,” he said. “I hope you understand. I also hope you know how much I love and respect you and that I am doing this only because I don’t see any other option.”

Michael nodded over at Pedro.

“Send it through,” he said.

“Okay, sir.”

Standing, Michael looked out the viewports of the capitol tower’s command center. The sun had risen over the rigs, marking one of the most important days in the history of his people. Today, Michael would either prevent a war or start one.

“There’s something else I want you to do for me,” Michael said.

Pedro looked up.

“Send out a message over the emergency alert system to inform all citizens of the Vanguard Islands that I will be making an important announcement at noon today,” Michael said. “I will make this announcement from the Sky Arena.”

He patted Pedro on the shoulder.

“I’ll be back in a few hours. I’ve got my radio if you need me.”

“Tome cuidado. Be careful, sir,” Pedro replied.

Before going to the marina to meet with Lieutenant Wynn, Michael decided to stop by his apartment to check on his family. Layla was making eggs while Victor held Rhino Jr., and Bray sat in a chair playing with his food. Alton stood wearing the red Marine Corps hat.

“Chief, is everything okay now?” he asked.

Michael exchanged a glance with Layla. “It will be, don’t worry,” he said.

He went to Layla and kissed her on the neck.

“You hungry?” she asked.

“Not right now. I have something I have to do.”

She turned slightly.

“Trust me on this,” he said. “I need your trust.”

“I trust you.”

“Thank you.” Michael kissed her and bent to Bray, who reached out with mashed banana on his fingers.

“Watch your mama for me. I love you both very much.”

“We love you, too,” Layla said.

“Be good, Alton.” Michael looked to Victor. “Watch over them for me.”

Victor nodded firmly.

Michael said his goodbyes and headed down to the enclosed marina, where Wynn stood waiting near the Sea Wolf. Three soldiers accompanied him—all sky people except for one Cazador.

They stayed on the deck while Michael went to the upper cabin with Wynn. Inside, a crate containing his Hell Diver armor waited.

Michael changed into it as he spoke to Wynn.

“You trust these soldiers?” he asked.

“Yes. They are my best and have your back no matter what, just as I do.”

“I appreciate that.”

Michael put his helmet on the dashboard and lowered the boat from the lift into the choppy water. The gate opened, letting them out to sea.

Steering away from his home, Michael didn’t look back. He hoped what he was doing would be the right thing for everyone.

One thing was certain: it was going to be a beautiful day. A few clouds drifted lazily across the sky, but most of the blue bowl above them was clear. The reprieve from rain was a good sign. Now if it would just last for a while . . .

Michael steered the Sea Wolf past the rigs, giving them a wide berth.

The radio crackled with a transmission from Pedro to all rigs.

“All citizens of the Vanguard Islands, Chief Everhart will be making an announcement at noon today from the Sky Arena,” he said.

Michael looked to Wynn. They were both nervous, but there was no turning back.

The horizon darkened and the sails whipped as the beginnings of the storm hit the boat. Michael gripped the wheel with both hands, and the soldiers on deck retreated to the lower level as lightning fired the horizon.

The Wolf logo on the mainsail whipped violently as the boat slipped into the darkness. Thunder cracked like a rifle shot, rattling the hull. Rain flung itself against the windshield.

All across the sky, lightning sizzled. Michael eyed the dashboard readouts, which flickered from electrical interference. Wynn brought out the paper map and compass just in case.

Waves slapped obliquely against the Sea Wolf, making it pitch and yaw. The digital dashboard flickered again, then solidified.

An hour later, they were closing in on the island.

Michael pulled out his handheld radio.

“Steve, do you copy?”

Static.

“Get the men ready,” Michael said. “I want to load up the food as fast as possible and get it back to the farm rig. Then I will make the announcement—”

Thunder cut him off. The eastern horizon became a dazzling display of lightning. Michael just tried to keep the boat steady by steering them into the waves. The chop was much worse than on their first trip here.

A wave splashed up on the bow, over the wolf logo. It was a reminder that this boat had seen far worse before. X, Miles, and Magnolia had taken it a thousand miles before discovering the Vanguard Islands.

Michael scanned the horizon with his night-vision goggles, finally spotting land.

“There it is,” he said. “Tell your men to get ready.”

Wynn headed belowdecks while Michael came up on the long concrete pier stretching hundreds of feet into the surf. A smaller concrete jetty formed a second barrier against the wind-driven sea.

On the other side of the pier, sheltered in the harbor, was the Cazador troop carrier, which Ton and Steve had secured to a pier.

Michael’s safest route was to enter the harbor and sail to shore. In normal conditions, the boat could be beached without taking any damage, but in this chop, he was a bit worried even with the harbor’s protection.

“Get ready!” Michael shouted.

The catamaran Sea Wolf curved around the piers and into the harbor. Michael searched the beach for Ton and Steve.

The bow rose up as they hit the surf. Michael gripped the wheel, keeping them aligned with the building wave. After it broke and pushed them into shallow water, he cut the engines and trimmed the propellers.

They heard and felt the crunch of the keels meeting the bottom. The boat glided to a stop.

Michael checked his wrist computer—suit and armor were 100 percent operational. He took a ladder down to the lower deck, where Wynn and his soldiers waited.

“Let’s go,” Michael said.

They hopped out, moving into combat intervals under Wynn’s command. He led the way, running up toward the rusted fuel tanks rising above the beach embankment. Access stairs spiraled up the cylindrical walls of the thirty-foot-tall storage tanks. At the top, a black railing encircled the roof.

The rain had let up, but the ground was saturated. Michael saw footprints leading away from the troop carrier, but no Ton or Steve. He hurried up the muddy path leading from the harbor to the abandoned oil plant.

Wynn stayed on point, carrying an assault rifle with a noise suppressor on the barrel.

“Where the hell are they?” he asked.

“Must be in the tank,” Michael said. “We’re almost there.”

He held up Cricket 3.0 for a life scan.

The stained and pitted storage tanks were just ahead, but the life scan came back negative.

Feeling a chill run up his back, Michael raised his rifle at the open door to the tank where he had found a dead bone beast. Boot tracks went right up to it.

As he approached, a peculiar humming rose over the wind.

“You hear something?” he asked the lieutenant.

Wynn shook his head.

Michael switched from night vision to his helmet lights. He moved into the open hatch, his beam hitting the decomposed bone beast carcass that still hung from the overhead.

Steve had insisted on leaving it there, saying it would keep any superstitious Cazadores from entering if they found this place.

“Where are the food barrels?” Wynn asked.

Michael stepped inside. They were all gone.

The humming sound came again.

The hair on his neck stood up when he realized the noise was coming from the harbor.

Boats.

Not just one, but several.

Michael rushed outside with Wynn and the other men, running back toward the overlook. By the time they got there, the sound of Jet Ski engines was easily recognizable over the wind.

A dozen of the small craft circled like carrion birds over a carcass.

A single boat stood farther out. Michael zoomed in on a Cazador vessel and saw the food barrels secured to the deck. One of the Jet Skis sped away from the others.

“The Wave Riders,” Wynn said. “What the fuck does Jamal think he’s doing?”

“Over there,” said the soldier next to Michael, pointing at the concrete pier in the distance. Four figures stood in the middle of the landing. Michael zoomed in on the suits of Ton and Steve, standing with two Cazadores who held cutlasses to their necks.

“It’s an ambush,” Michael whispered. He aimed his rifle at the rider of the Jet Ski motoring toward the beach. The others followed, riding through the surf and beaching.

“What do we do?” Wynn asked.

“Hold your fire until I tell you.”

They were way outnumbered, but they also held the high ground.

Michael watched the Cazador warriors fanning across the beach with their weapons cradled. It surprised him, if he was being honest with himself. He expected Charmer to pull something like this, but not these soldiers, who were supposed to report to Wynn.

“Let me handle this,” Wynn said.

He stepped closer to the edge of the embankment.

“Stop right there and drop your weapons! You are breaking Vanguard law by seizing that food supply and by taking two workers hostage.”

The men stopped except for the leader, Sergeant Jamal, who wore a black helmet with a Siren’s jaw attached. He was big, though nowhere near the size of his cousin, Gran Jefe.

Michael joined Wynn on the overlook.

“Drop your weapons and let my men go,” Michael shouted. “We can work this out!”

Jamal finally stopped below.

“I say this once!” he called up. “You drop your weapons, or your amigos die.”

He brought a finger across his neck, tracing it back and forth. Several of the other Wave Riders laughed.

“Do you know who I am?” Michael yelled back. “I am—”

“You are man with bounty on your head!” Jamal shouted up.

Wynn looked to Michael. “What the hell does that mean?”

“I don’t know,” Michael whispered.

Shouting rose over the wind, and he looked to the pier, where Ton had broken free. He pulled the knife from one of the two Cazadores’ belt.

Whirling, he thrust it through his captor’s chest, then kicked him over the side of the pier. Ton picked up a dropped cutlass and lunged at the other Cazador.

A gunshot cracked.

Ton stopped in midstride. He stumbled backward, hand to his chest. He looked down at the blood, then at the Cazador who had shot him.

In a swift move, Ton swung his cutlass just as the Cazador fired a bullet into his skull.

Ton crumpled to the deck.

“no!” Michael screamed.

Steve, whose arms were bound, tried to shoulder the Cazador over the edge, but the man hit him in the head with the pistol, knocking him to the pier, next to Ton.

Michael knew he had only a moment to react. His eyes flitted back to the beach, where the twelve Cazadores were aiming their weapons at Michael and his men.

“Chief,” Wynn kept saying. “Chief, give us the word, and we will take these motherless pricks out.”

Jamal aimed his rifle at Michael, yelling, “Drop guns or you all die!”

His men were advancing now, weapons shouldered, getting closer by the second.

Michael looked out toward the boat, realizing his terrible mistake. He should have listened to X. He should have known what could happen.

“Lower your weapons,” Michael said.

“What?” Wynn asked.

“Just do it,” he said. “This was my call. No one else is going to die.”

“Sir, I serve you,” Wynn said. “I will die for you.”

“Not today, you won’t.”

Michael lowered his laser rifle.

A minute later, the Cazadores surrounded them, disarming them all.

“You’re breaking Vanguard law!” Wynn thundered. “I will have you all arrested for this. The king will—”

Jamal slammed his rifle butt into Wynn’s helmet, knocking him down.

“You son of a bitch!” Michael shouted. He broke free from the grip of the soldier who had him, only to be slammed in the back before he could react.

A second hit brought him to his knees, and a third knocked him to the dirt. His vision blurred and then darkened.

Michael awoke on a boat.

Next to him was Steve, his hands still bound and helmet off.

“I tried to fight ’em. I tried . . .” he said. “Chief, I’m sorry, I . . .”

The armored figure of a Cazador leaned down over Michael, who was on his back. He stared up at Jamal’s tattooed face.

“I get big reward for taking you,” he said with a grin. “The man with the eye patch make me very rich and there is nothing your king can do. Nada.”

thirty-one

Magnolia crawled on all fours through the utility tunnel, taking great care not to bump the boosters over her back against the overhead.

Edgar was right behind her, carrying a toolkit from the APC. Behind them, Gran Jefe held on to the climbing gear.

The other divers were topside, waiting to drive out of here as soon as the seed vaults were up and away to the airship.

You better be there, Rolo . . .

Magnolia finally arrived back at the grate and pulled it away from the wall. She used her NVGs to scan the dark chamber, listening for wing beats or the clicks of the bats.

All was silent.

She turned on her helmet lights and shined them down.

Their plan was simple: rappel the twelve feet down to the floor, pack a supply crate full of seeds, attach the boosters, and send the crate up into the sky. If the bats woke up, Gran Jefe would unleash hell on them, clearing the way for the precious seeds.

As soon as the crate was in the air, they would retreat to the APC and drive it out of the city until they could get clear of the storm for extraction by the airship.

Assuming they lasted that long.

She checked her suit battery: 41 percent. The distant wail of a Siren pinged through the underground tomb. Magnolia turned off her lights, waiting for the clicks of a bat’s echolocation.

As far as she could tell, the winged monsters still clung to the ceiling.

She nodded to Edgar. Gran Jefe passed up a rope. Magnolia took it, uncoiled it, and tossed it to the bottom. They secured the rope through rings bolted to the tunnel wall.

The noise echoed and faded quickly away.

Magnolia attached her rappel device to the rope and backed out, fast-roping down to the bottom of the chamber. Her feet squished into a pile of guano. She glanced up at the bats, still not seeing any movement.

Unclipping from the rope, she started toward the seed vaults, avoiding the larger piles of the guano. Bones stuck out like skeletal fingers reaching toward her legs.

She continued toward the bank of seeds, sweeping her rifle back and forth. The tactical light captured the secure boxes in the rows of seed vaults.

A tube worm slithered out of a mountain of guano to her right, its bony, eyeless face extended toward her. The mouth retracted over square, humanlike teeth.

Reaching over her back, she drew a curved blade and, in the same motion, sheared off the head. It landed in the muck as the rest of the body withdrew back into the pile.

Keeping low, Magnolia approached the vaults with her blade still out. Her other hand held her rifle, pointed toward the ceiling. The beam lanced through the darkness to the top of the chamber, where the bats used a ten-foot-wide shaft to enter and exit.

She moved right under it, smiling at the sight of lightning far above.

Perfect . . .

Turning, she motioned for Edgar and Gran Jefe. They lowered the crate and rappelled down after it. Carrying it together, they slogged across to her.

Edgar started examining the individual locked boxes in the bank of vaults. Each contained a long tray that they pulled out.

Magnolia helped, extracting the trays one by one. Gran Jefe provided cover with his assault rifle, loaded with armor-piercing rounds, and the grenade launcher.

Gran Jefe took a step forward, making a low grumble of disgust when his boot broke through the crust to the soft, acrid-smelling guano beneath.

Opening the trays, Magnolia and Edgar began to search through the contents. There was simply no way they could take them all. The supply crate would carry only a tenth of the seeds, so they had to be selective.

And they had to hurry.

She read the vacuum-sealed packages, which were marked with the seed type and also details about proper growing conditions and time to maturity. Edgar and Magnolia sifted through the bags, collecting anything that seemed hardy and fast-growing. Every few minutes, she looked at the bats, her helmet lights raking back and forth over their furry wings.

“Pay attention,” Edgar said quietly.

Magnolia was putting a tray of seeds into the crate when something moved against her boot, forcing her beams downward. A foot-long maggot had shrugged its way up her ankle and was trying to squirm into her boot. She held in a breath and kicked, but the damn thing latched on with tiny hooked limbs.

She remembered the slug that had nearly killed Kade.

“Edgar,” she whispered. “Get this thing off me.”

Easing his knife from its sheath, Edgar jabbed the ropy flesh. Purple fluid burst out on Magnolia’s boot as the creature fell to the ground and wiggled away.

Edgar returned to the crate with another full tray.

“Hurry,” Magnolia whispered. “We’re almost done.”

Ten minutes later, they had the crate packed to the brim. Next, they began to secure the booster packs around the sides. When they went to put on the last one, a faint clicking came from above.

Something fell from the chamber ceiling as she looked up. It spattered next to Gran Jefe. It would have been funny if a Siren skull didn’t roll out of the fresh deposit.

“Maldito asqueroso,” Gran Jefe said.

He raised his rifle again, but Magnolia motioned to stand down. She rigged the final booster on the side of the crate, her eyes locked on a pair of wings that unfurled above them. Her heart stuttered as the beast dropped twenty feet before flapping upward.

The draft from its wings hit them.

“Now shoot?” Gran Jefe asked.

“No,” she whispered back.

The bat flapped up toward the opening in the ceiling, folded its wings back, and clambered up into the tunnel.

Magnolia watched another moment, then nodded at Edgar. He secured the final booster with a click.

A shriek roared above them in answer.

From the shaft above, the bat poked a hairy face into the chamber. Red eyes blinked down at them as it dropped down.

“Kill it,” Magnolia said.

Gran Jefe opened fire, putting half a magazine of armor-piercing rounds into the creature as it dived toward them.

Magnolia watched the sequence happen in slow motion. Blood squirted out in the glow of the helmet beams. Red eyes widened, and a fanged mouth opened, emitting a shriek.

A whooshing sounded, and the next moment, the beast exploded in a brilliant fireball fifty feet above them.

Magnolia turned away to shield her eyes as Gran Jefe pulled out another grenade. He locked it into the weapon as chunks of the bat rained down.

Above them, the entire dormitory of monsters awoke from their slumbers.

“Hurry!” Magnolia said.

Edgar tightened down the last booster and unslung his rifle as other bats dropped from their roosts, shrieking and clicking in a macabre chorus.

Magnolia hit the boosters around the crate. Balloons burst out and filled with helium. The overweight box inched off the ground, the bottom caked in guano.

She got under it and tried to direct it toward the opening while the men fired at the bats darting overhead. Some of them flew toward the exit, clogging it in their effort to escape.

Three of the beasts swooped throughout the chamber, preparing to strike.

Edgar’s laser sheared off a wing, and the creature spun out of control and slammed into a column. It fell to the chamber floor, where it flopped like a landed fish.

The other two dived toward Gran Jefe. He waited to fire, calmly, before launching a grenade between them.

The beasts cartwheeled away from the blast.

“Clear the opening!” Magnolia called out.

Gran Jefe locked in another grenade, aimed, and fired.

The projectile thumped into the air, exploding right under the opening in the ceiling. Flames and shrapnel flew in all directions. A tremor rumbled through the facility.

As the fire and smoke cleared, a shower of bat parts flaked down.

“It’s clear. Now, help me!” Magnolia called out.

Edgar moved over with Gran Jefe, and the three of them held on to the bottom of the crate before the helium balloons could pull it out of reach. They pushed it underneath the opening.

“Hold it,” Magnolia said. “A bit farther.”

Gran Jefe suddenly backed away and aimed his rifle at the opening. A bat emerged, looking down with devilish red eyes. The pointy ears perked, and the lance-shaped nose rose over a jaw of pointed teeth.

It shrieked and then climbed up the shaft, vanishing from sight.

“Now!” Magnolia said. She let go of the crate at the same time as Edgar.

They made their way back to the rope and started climbing up toward the utility passage the divers had used to access the chamber. Magnolia was the first up, and by the time she got inside, she turned to watch the seeds sailing up the tunnel. The crate rose right through the center.

“We did it,” Magnolia said, hardly believing it. “We freaking did it!”

“We still have to get out of here,” Edgar said.

Gran Jefe grunted, pulling himself through the utility tunnel behind Magnolia. She crawled out onto the floor of a passage, clearing it with her rifle.

She held security while Edgar and Gran Jefe worked through the enclosed passage. When they were all out, she led the way back to the elevator.

Using their cable riders, they rose back up to the top. Then they ran all the way to the subway. From there, the three traversed the large tunnel back to their damaged APC.

Magnolia searched the darkness for Sirens but saw nothing hiding among the vines and mushrooms growing along the tracks. She watched her minimap on her HUD. The beacon for the seeds continued to rise.

The rear hatch to the APC opened, revealing Kade and Tia.

“Let’s go,” Magnolia said.

Edgar got behind the wheel, and once the divers were all inside, they drove back to the surface. Sofia was waiting at the base of the same building Magnolia had used to get a message to Captain Rolo earlier.

She pointed toward the sky.

The APC stopped in the street, and the divers all got out to look at the helium balloons pulling the crate with the seeds toward the storm clouds. Magnolia hurried over to the building with vines draping over the cracked exterior.

“Did Arlo get a message to Captain Rolo?” she asked Sofia.

“Still working on it. He’s up there.”

Magnolia spotted a heat signature bent down at the top of the six-story structure.

“Everyone, into the vehicle. I’ll get him and then we’re out of here,” Magnolia said.

She took off running up the slope, listening and scanning for threats. It didn’t take her long to find a way up the crushed concrete to Arlo.

“Have you made contact with Captain Rolo?” she asked.

“Yes, and he confirmed he’s in position, but that’s the last I heard from him.”

Magnolia bent down to the radio. “Captain Rolo, this is Commander Katib, do you copy? Over.”

There was no response.

“Captain Rolo, I’ve sent up the crate with the seeds, please confirm, over.”

This time there was a crackling, and a voice.

“We have to . . .”

The voice sounded like XO Eevi Corey.

Magnolia checked her HUD. The crate was still ascending toward the coordinates.

“Captain Rolo, the seeds are almost to you. Confirm your position.”

“This is weird,” Arlo said. “We are connected, but it’s like . . .”

Magnolia looked up at Arlo, then blinked at movement in the clouds behind him. She heard the clicking before she saw the wings.

A massive creature descended, stretching out great, leathery wings. The same devilish eyes from the cryo-chamber flitted from her to Arlo.

Short legs extended with clawed feet. The creature shrieked the same moment Magnolia screamed.

There was no time to bring up her rifle—time only to reach out to Arlo as it plucked him off the roof. She grabbed his foot, holding on.

“Mags!” he screamed.

Magnolia pulled down on his foot and grabbed his leg when the creature flapped upward, pulling Arlo, and her, off the roof.

“Don’t let . . . !” Arlo screamed.

It pulled them over the edge of the roof, but Magnolia held on.

“Arlo!” she shouted.

The bat tried to get altitude, beating the air violently with its frayed black wings and pulling Magnolia over the side. She looked down at the rubble on the street more than six stories below.

She glanced back up to Arlo, who had pulled a knife from the sheath attached to his armor. The bat pulled them over the rooftop again.

“Let go!” Arlo shouted.

“What!”

Magnolia stared at Arlo, realization hitting her as she hung on to his leg. He thrust the knife into the bat.

Arlo kicked. “Let go!” he yelled again. “While you still can!”

She was still hanging over the rooftop, but the bat was pulling her back toward the street. Arlo thrust his knife into the bat again, and again it beat toward the edge.

Letting go, she fell to the ledge with a thud.

The bat pulled Arlo higher. As he went to stab it again, the head tilted down and sank its fangs into his throat.

“no!” Magnolia shouted.

She raised her rifle, but the bat let him go from about three stories above her. He fell, kicking with one hand on his neck.

A swarm of small birds flapped past the massive bat.

Not birds, Magnolia realized. These were baby bats.

Hundreds of them.

They formed a cloud of black that rushed upward in a vortex.

“arlo!” Magnolia screamed.

The creatures slammed into Arlo, ripping and tearing at him in midair. He vanished in the seething flurry of bodies. Clicking rose over his screams of agony.

Magnolia watched in horror as his arms and legs came off and were taken in different directions. In seconds, there was nothing left of Arlo Wand but the pieces the bats carried off into the darkness.

A hand grabbed her, pulling her back.

“He’s gone,” Edgar said. “Come on!”

The APC was waiting below, the engine rumbling. Edgar led the way down the building and back to the street. When they got outside, the baby bats rushed at them.

Magnolia pulled her blades out and skewered one. It flapped on her blade.

She used her boot to pluck it off, then ran over to the APC, climbing in the rear hatch. Sofia shut it behind her, sobbing. Tia was in a seat, strapped in, her chest moving up and down with deep breaths.

Kade had his helmet down, and Gran Jefe was cursing softly in two languages.

They all had seen what happened to Arlo.

Edgar steered the APC down the street. Magnolia, still in shock, moved up to the front seat and looked up at the sky through the broken windshield.

Even though nothing was left of Arlo, leaving brought a wave of guilt.

Tears burst from her eyes.

“I’m sorry, Arlo,” she whispered. “I’m so, so sorry.”

She blinked away the tears and looked at the duffel bag of meds between her feet. Arlo had died for this and a couple of hundredweight of seeds. He had helped give the Vanguard Islands another chance.

A voice crackled over the comms. Magnolia snapped out of her shock to talk to Captain Rolo. But this gruff voice seemed different.

“Team Raptor, Team Wrangler, does anyone copy?”

“Copy, this is Commander Katib. Who is this?”

“Mags, it’s X. What’s your status?”

Magnolia fought through the pain and told him what had happened to Arlo after they sent up the crate of seeds.

X was silent a moment. “Head for the Caboolture River,” he said. “We’re waiting to extract you.”

Magnolia looked to the dashboard, and the digital map that Arlo had once monitored.

“Which way?” Edgar asked.

“Right—take a right,” Magnolia said.

The APC swerved back onto the road, threading a course between rubble piles from collapsed buildings. Vines covered in spores tendriled out of the debris.

Edgar slalomed around a cluster of mushrooms, clipping a cap and releasing a cloud of spores behind them. He turned left and slammed on the brakes. The road was completely overgrown by the toxic jungle.

Magnolia studied the map. They were only a couple of miles from the river, but they weren’t going to get through this way.

“Mags, where do I go now?”

“Back up,” she said.

Edgar reversed, and Magnolia pointed toward another side road, all but hidden by the lush tropical vegetation.

Loud barking sounded in the distance.

Edgar drove on, the tires thumping over broken concrete and loose dirt and churning through the vines that sprawled across the road. The headlights illuminated a city block almost entirely reclaimed by nature.

The frantic barking seemed to be getting closer. Kade spotted a flash of fur in the street.

Unlike the dingos, this beast had only one head. But it was the size of a grizzly bear.

“What in the hell is that . . .” Magnolia said.

“A Tasmanian devil,” Kade said. “Drive, Edgar. As fast as you can.”

The monster picked up the shell of a burned car and flung it at them as Edgar backed away at speed.

thirty-two

“They’re in trouble,” X said. “We have to go faster.”

“Go faster and we risk the propellers,” Captain Two Skulls said. He looked over his shoulder plate. “¿Cómo se dice . . . ? ”

“Screwed.”

“Sí, King Xavier. Screwed.”

X looked at the map. They were closing in on the coordinates he had sent Magnolia—Bruce Highway as it bridged the Caboolture River. At this speed, it would take another hour to reach them, maybe a bit less.

X was still trying to process the fact that Arlo was gone. X had known that this mission was dangerous, and the kid knew it. But it never got easier losing a diver, even after all these years.

This one stung. This one felt like his fault.

But Arlo hadn’t died for nothing. He helped get the seeds into the sky, and if X could get the seeds and the divers back to the islands, the future would be brighter for all.

X shook away the dread and bent down to check on Miles. Not surprisingly, he was sleeping beneath the radio equipment, in his jerry-rigged hazard suit. Watching his dog, X wondered what it must be like to sleep without a care.

He patted the dog and stood up to try the comms again.

“Captain Rolo, do you copy?”

Static broke from the speakers.

X wanted to punch them. The damn drones worked for shit half of the time. The unpredictable electrical storms made getting a signal harder than he ever anticipated.

He tried Magnolia again but couldn’t raise her, either.

The boat continued at a crawl, or so it seemed. For the first couple of miles, Captain Two Skulls had to find alternative routes around some rapids and another sandbar full of crocodiles.

They were coming up at a narrow section again and hardly moving against the current. X went to the stern and found Jo-Jo at the railing.

She didn’t seem bothered by the exotic sounds from the jungle, but the soldiers all seemed on edge, helmets moving this way and that in search of hostiles.

The boat lurched, and X stumbled back into the cabin.

“What was that?” X asked.

“We hit something,” said Two Skulls. There was annoyance in his voice—something X had never picked up on before.

X breathed deeply. There was no point in going fast if they destroyed their means of getting to the Hell Divers.

Captain Two Skulls slowly reversed the boat. White water to port and starboard showed where the rocks were, so he weaved his way up the darker water midstream.

Two Skulls angled into a narrow deeper section and pushed the throttle down a bit, bucking the current.

A guttural howl resonated through the jungle on the right.

Miles awoke and looked out the open cabin door.

“What is that?” Two Skulls asked.

Forge shook his head. “Never heard them before.”

X hadn’t, either. It was probably something different from the night-marish cyclops beasts and the hybrid spider-humans back at the Sunshine Castle.

It was clear now, Australia was home to some of the scariest creatures X had ever encountered.

“How far to that bridge?” he asked.

“At this speed, thirty minutes,” Two Skulls replied.

“I get our warriors ready,” General Forge said.

He stepped outside onto the deck, and X joined him. Miles went over to Jo-Jo, sniffing his companion.

The soldiers raked their spotlights back and forth over the riverbanks.

X paced behind them, his mind burdened with worry about the islands, about the divers, about Outpost Gateway. They were spread too thin, and people were dying. And if they didn’t pull off this mission, a lot more were going to die.

Miles growled, pulling him from his thoughts. Turning, he saw the hair spike along Jo-Jo’s back.

X motioned his dog back into the cabin.

“Something’s out there,” he said.

Forge flashed hand signals, moving the soldiers into position. The machine gun and flamethrower were angled down at the water on both sides.

Jo-Jo moved to the stern, and X raised his laser rifle, resting it on his prosthetic arm. He scanned the water behind them.

“Someone, get a light over here,” X said.

Shining his helmet light at the bank on the port side, he saw ripples where something had just entered the river.

Something big.

Jo-Jo whipped around toward the man with the flamethrower on the port side.

X pointed his light at a massive spiked body swimming right for the port rail.

“Croc!” X shouted.

The Cazador on the flamethrower jumped back from the rail as the beast shot out of the water and clamped its jaws down on the side of the boat. Twisting sideways, the beast tore away a chunk of railing, razor wire and all.

Laser bolts pounded the armored head as it chomped off a metal stanchion. Then it grabbed the flamethrower turret and mounted tanks.

The soldier who had manned the weapon raised his rifle just as the monster bit down on the fuel canister in its mouth.

“No!” X shouted a second too late.

An explosion burst across the deck, and the three nearest soldiers vanished in the blast. X turned to Miles in the split second he had to move. The dog was behind Jo-Jo, who hunkered down, protecting him from the flames.

The shock wave hit X and General Forge, knocking them both down. When X finally looked up, he saw that two of the soldiers had gone over the port side, and a third was caught in the razor wire.

A huge section of the port rail and gunwale was gone, and with it the crocodile.

All X could hear over the ringing in his ears was Jo-Jo howling as she rolled on the deck to smother the flames. He scrambled toward the monkey and Miles while Forge pushed himself up and drew his cutlass.

Jo-Jo patted the flames out, and her howl subsided to a whimper. Dazed, X stood surveying the damage.

Two soldiers were squirming in the razor wire on the starboard side, bleeding between their armor plates. Three more had gone overboard and were floundering and calling out for help.

X counted five more on the deck with varying degrees of injury.

“Stop us!” he yelled.

Captain Two Skulls reversed to stop the boat, then opened the aft hatch to the cabin. With a sawed-off shotgun in one hand, he bent down to help an injured soldier.

Another piercing scream came from the water.

X ran over to see the upper half of a soldier racing across the water, arms flailing as something underneath pulled him toward shore.

“¡Auxilio!” the man screamed.

Aiming his rifle, X had a split second to react. But that instant passed when the beast pulled the Cazador under the surface.

Miles barked ferociously to his right, and X hopped back from the starboard rail just as the snout of the first crocodile burst out of the water and grabbed one of the soldiers that Forge and another man were trying to free from the razor wire.

The jaw snapped through his body, severing him at the waist.

Forge rolled up off the deck with his cutlass and hacked the other trapped soldier free of the razor wire. X pulled them both back as a second croc launched itself up out of the water and bit off six feet of railing, several coils of razor wire, and the mounted machine gun.

Two of the soldiers were back on their feet now, thrusting spears at the monstrous creature while X fired his laser rifle.

The thick scales were not resistant to the laser bolts, but the simmering holes in the creatures’ armor didn’t seem to deter them from their potential meals. Readjusting his rifle, X aimed for the eye and squeezed off a shot that went high.

The croc got a stumpy foreleg over the rail and pulled itself up onto the deck, snatching one of the spearmen in its open jaws. The man screamed in horror as his head went down the creature’s gullet.

X let his rifle sag on its sling and swung his fighting axe into the monster’s left eye. The crocodile let out a roar, releasing the half-swallowed man on the deck.

A dark shape hurtled past X and jumped into the air, landing on the back of the squirming beast. Jo-Jo went for the remaining eye, gouging it with her fingers.

The croc reared back, trying to snap at Jo-Jo, but she had her legs wrapped tight around its thick neck. She held on as the monster slithered off the boat and splashed into the water, monkey and all.

X rushed over to the side with Miles, both of them looking into the river as bubbles burst to the top. On the shore, the crocodile that had taken the first soldier under was now pulling his limp body onto the riverbank.

With no way to save the man, X lined the sights up on his helmet.

“I’m sorry,” X whispered. With a pull of the trigger, he ended the soldier’s suffering.

Lowering the rifle, X searched for Jo-Jo, but the animal was gone.

The agonized cries of the wounded pulled his attention back. He had to focus on those he could save.

Only six men were left uninjured, including Forge and Two Skulls. But four were dead, and a fifth would soon be.

Forge knelt by the young man that the second crocodile had bitten and left on the deck. The big, conical holes the teeth had made in his armor flowed with blood that Forge could not begin to stanch. The flailing legs went limp a moment later.

He looked up at the other men and shouted orders. Four of the soldiers formed a perimeter, two on each side of the boat, watching for the next attack.

Two Skulls held a cutlass dripping with blood. “We need to keep going,” he said.

“Hold on another minute,” X said.

He and Miles peered over the starboard gunwale, looking for Jo-Jo. Only a minute had passed since the monkey went overboard, and while X knew the slim odds that she or any of the other soldiers who went in the river were still alive, he wanted to make sure of it.

He checked the beacon locator for the animal—still active, but where the hell was she?

As he searched the murky water, X noticed something else moving behind them. Forge joined him near the rail.

The moans of the wounded faded away, leaving nothing but silence. Not so much as a cricket chirped on the riverbank. Even the crocodiles seemed to have fled.

X stared at the river behind them, where multiple curved lines moved against the current. The blunt, dark heads of several cyclopes broke through the glassy surface.

A trumpeting call broke the silence.

“Son of a bitch,” X grunted.

Now he knew why every creature in the jungle had fallen silent.

The alpha predators had shown up at the kill.

Not just one, but five of the monsters were quickly gaining on the boat.

X searched the water for Jo-Jo but still saw no sign of the animal. They had left her in the wastes twice before, and he hated the thought of doing it again.

He pulled out the tracking device. Her beacon was still active. That meant she was still alive, though he couldn’t pinpoint her location.

“King Xavier,” Captain Two Skulls said.

Forge remained quiet, waiting for X to respond.

Finally, he nodded.

“Go,” X said. “Get us out of here. And take the wounded men belowdecks.”

The general gave the orders, and Two Skulls opened the hatch to the lower compartment. The injured men were out of the fight for the remainder of the journey.

Miles whined as the engines fired and the boat motored away. They came around a bend in the river, the hull brushing tree roots on the port side.

“Over there!” someone yelled.

X moved to the starboard side and scanned the shore. Crawling out of the water was a twenty-five-foot crocodile. It was moving toward a black ball of fur.

“Jo-Jo!” X called.

The injured monkey tried to push herself up as the beast approached with open jaws.

“Shoot it!” X yelled. “Everyone shoot that fucking croc! Don’t hit the monkey!”

Laser bolts pounded the scaly armor, forcing the beast to twist in their direction. X lined up the open gullet in his sights and pulled the trigger. The beast swallowed a laser burst that blew out the bottom of its throat.

It shook and let out a croaking roar, blood flowing out of its elongated jaws.

Jo-Jo hobbled away from the stricken predator.

The roar of the croc brought a trumpeting response from the cyclopes.

The men continued firing on the crocodile, pounding the thick armor with bullets and lasers. It finally let out a long, sighing grunt and fell slack on the sand.

“Hold your fire!” X shouted.

He ran over to the missing rail, waving for Jo-Jo. She limped into the water.

X looked back toward the approaching ripples. The cyclopes were gaining.

When he turned to Jo-Jo, she had swum almost to the side of the boat. He reached out and grabbed her arm, pulling her up onto the deck with the help of two soldiers.

“Let’s go!” X shouted. “Get us out of here!”

Miles trotted over to the monkey, who was favoring a bloody arm.

The boat sped away from the strange flippered monsters, whereupon they changed directions, swarming ashore to feast on the dead croc.

“They’ll come for us next,” X said to Forge.

“Sí. We must be ready,” he replied.

The distant trumpeting died away, leaving only the sound of the engines.

X dressed Jo-Jo’s wound as they continued upriver. The surviving soldiers stood on the afterdeck, watching and ready. They all were afraid of the beast, but she seemed to trust X and whimpered as he gently wrapped her wound.

When he finished, X stroked her head as he had seen Ada do so many times. The animal seemed to calm down some.

“Stay,” X said. He went back into the cabin with Captain Two Skulls and Miles.

“You okay, sir?” Two Skulls asked.

“Fine. How far are we from the . . .”

X let the thought lapse when he saw a sagging bridge over the river. Parts of the roadway had collapsed into the water, leaving only a few sections.

“This is it,” said the captain.

Searchlight beams hit the bridge and both riverbanks, searching for the divers. Not seeing them, he bumped on his comms.

“Magnolia, do you copy?” he asked.

Static.

“Mags, do you copy?”

Nothing.

Captain Two Skulls slowed as they came up on the bridge. X considered going ashore but decided to give it a few more minutes.

Those minutes quickly passed, with no sign of the Hell Divers.

“Where are you, Mags?” X murmured.

He started to go to the cabin, but the trumpeting cry of a cyclops halted him.

The soldiers had all gathered with Forge.

“They’re coming,” said the general.

X looked back at the bridge. “Take us ashore,” he said. “If we have to fight these ugly fuckers, we make them come to us.”

thirty-three

“Drone deployed,” Ancla said.

Rodger watched the screen that displayed an aerial view. They had recharged the last working drone and sent it back over the canal to scan for radiation spikes. Today especially, they needed the eye in the sky to monitor while they finished installing the mobile desalination equipment.

So far, the command room at Outpost Gateway was oddly quiet, aside from the sporadic beep or chirp from a computer. Cazadores and sky people sat at their stations, looking more bored than tired. Lieutenant Bromista was there, arms folded over his armor. Normally, he would be cracking jokes, but this morning he looked haggard.

Rodger crossed the space, checking the seismograph.

Everything was silent. Even the radio.

Nothing had come in from the airship Vanguard or the supercarrier Immortal for two days.

Rodger stood there for an interminable half hour, watching the machines and waiting for the first readings to come back.

Everything appeared clear today, nothing out of the ordinary.

Bromista stepped over and looked a question at Rodger.

The lieutenant was ready to unlock the gates and get the outpost back up and running. Rodger wanted the same thing, but he had to weigh the risks to their mission of turning Outpost Gateway into an operational hub for transporting supplies to the Vanguard Islands.

He went to the map marked up with the documented radiation spikes over the past month. All were centered in the heart of Panama City, though they branched out to the canal. But from what he could tell, they had never crossed the canal. It seemed to be a barrier.

“Okay,” Rodger said at last. “Open the gates. I’m heading out with the construction crews to finish installing the mobile desalination equipment.”

“Sí, sir,” Bromista said.

Rodger left the command center and took a left down a hallway. At the intersection, he took another left that ended at a large chamber they were using to store supplies. Almost every nonessential member of the outpost was seeking refuge inside, having left the Osprey.

Even Yejun was here.

Rodger had convinced the teenager to seek shelter in the bunker. He was curled up in the corner of the supply room, clutching his beaked helmet against his ghillie suit. Rodger bent down in front of him, keeping his distance.

“Yejun,” he said quietly.

The youngster shot up against the wall, rising to his feet and staring at Rodger.

“It’s okay,” Rodger said.

With his translator, he said he was going outside to work and that everything was okay now.

“Want to help?” he asked.

Yejun thought on it, then nodded.

They traversed the passages until they got to the bunker doors. Twelve workers were there, checking one another’s radiation suits and helmets.

“You’re sure this is safe?” Joshua asked.

“Yes, the radiation never seems to come across the canal,” Rodger replied. “And we need to get the desalination equipment installed or we’re all going to get thirsty.”

Rodger finished suiting up with the others. When they had finished their checks, soldiers unlocked the double doors. The metal squeaked open to the low glimmer of lightning.

After what they all had witnessed in the stunning, horrifying radioactive light phenomenon of the deer across the canal, no one seemed eager to be first out of the bunker.

Rodger moved through the crowd to show he wasn’t scared.

“Let’s go,” he said, leading the way.

A light rain fell on the workers walking up the ramp that led into the camp. On the container barrier, soldiers stood guard, watching the canal and the city beyond.

Lieutenant Bromista was just ahead, leaning against an APC, with a laser rifle slung over his back. Six fully armored Cazadores gathered around the truck.

The soldiers piled inside the APC, but Rodger elected to walk with Yejun and the construction crews. The gates opened, letting them back out into the wastes.

Storm clouds swirled over the canal and the city, spitting lightning.

Rodger thought of Magnolia. Not knowing her status still weighed on him, but he felt better after hearing her last message. If she meant it, then they had a chance at a life together.

A spark of hope flooded his system. For the first time in weeks, he felt a sense of joy.

Yejun looked over his shoulder at Rodger, who had fallen behind.

“Ready?” he said.

Rodger smiled. The kid was starting to learn English.

“Yup, let’s go,” Rodger said.

He walked side by side with his new friend through the open field stacked with lumber, roofing, and corrugated metal. The muddy ground made walking with a prosthetic foot a little tricky, but Yejun walked slowly so Rodger could keep pace.

During their time together, Rodger had taken a shine to the youngster. He held up the translator attached to his wrist.

“When we finish this work, why don’t you come back to the Vanguard Islands with me?” Rodger said. “I know you want to be where your family is, but . . .”

Yejun halted to look at the city.

“My parents are gone, too,” Rodger said. “It was hard for me to accept, but I firmly believe they have moved on to someplace beyond this world, a place of energy and light, and they want the best for me, just like your family wants the best for you.”

Yejun hung his head. It was going to take more convincing and counseling to get the youngster to understand that he wasn’t responsible for the deaths of his family. That he didn’t deserve to live in this hell.

But Rodger would work on that later. The construction crews were waiting.

When Rodger and Yejun finally arrived at the newly poured concrete pad, the container with the mobile desalination equipment was already there. A crane had lowered it from the deck of the Vanguard Osprey.

Joshua opened the container’s double doors, and Rodger stepped inside to inspect the two tanks, intake screening, pretreatment filters, and computer. There were also reverse-osmosis membrane units that would remove salt and toxins from the water.

After the water was pumped in from the canal, it moved through all the filters and stages, finally to be piped into the camp, where water supply tanks stood ready to receive the treated water.

Rodger went to the dashboard on the computer as his men began the process of checking the intake and outtake tunnels. Once they were fully inspected, he would activate the machine and pray that it worked as planned.

This specific mobile desalination plant had been installed on a Cazador rig, but they had replaced it with equipment discovered on a raid last year. Luckily, Rodger had worked on the new machine’s installation before coming here. It wasn’t rocket science, but these units were old and required constant maintenance.

An hour into the work, he checked in with Lieutenant Bromista.

“All clear?” Rodger asked.

“Sí,” Bromista said. “No hay nada.”

His soldiers were sweeping the bank of the canal, watching for spawn of the giant armored breeders while the drone patrolled over the city, watching for radiation spikes.

Everything was going to plan so far.

“Okay, Director, pipes are all connected and ready,” Joshua said.

“Excellent,” Rodger said. “Time to see if this old clunker works.” He threw the breaker switch, the relays clicked, and the pump chugged to life, pulling in water through the intake tunnel from the canal.

Rodger watched the meters. He could hear the water hissing into the tanks.

He stepped back and put his hands on his hips, waiting for something to go wrong. But the ancient device was running just as it was supposed to.

Metal prostheses clicked as Bromista joined him in front of the equipment.

“Finish?” he asked.

“Almost,” Rodger said. “I’m heading back to the outpost to wait for the first water to come through. Should be about an hour and a half.”

Bromista shouted his orders in Spanish and went to the APC. Opening the hatch, he gestured for Rodger and Yejun.

All but a skeleton crew of workers and soldiers remained behind. The rest headed back inside the outpost, to the warehouse where the tanks were installed to receive the processed water.

The APC pulled up outside the single-story facility with a metal roof. Inside were three two-thousand-gallon water tanks. Each was connected to the pipes in the tunnels.

Over the next hour, workers set up the testing kits on a pair of tables that were the only furnishings in the large warehouse. Rodger finally got the green light from Joshua to test the first batch of water.

He held a beaker under the tap on one of the tanks.

Everyone watched in anticipation.

Turning the tap, Rodger watched clear water fill the beaker. He turned it off and brought the sample over to the table. Then he put in a few pink drops of reagent.

He held the tube up toward the overhead lights as the pink hue cleared.

“It’s clean,” Rodger said. “Hot showers tonight, boys!”

The warehouse broke out in applause and shouts.

Rodger patted Yejun on the shoulder.

“I’m going to the command bunker to use the radio,” he said.

Yejun said he was going back to his quarters on the ship.

“Okay, see ya later,” Rodger replied.

They parted ways and he rushed to the radio, ready to send Magnolia a message. Ancla was right in front of the bank of equipment when he arrived.

“Good job with the desal—”

Rodger cut her off. “Can you record something and send it to the airship?”

“Sir, I just got a message from them.”

“What? When?”

“A few minutes ago, a transmission came in.”

“Play it,” Rodger said.

She tapped several buttons, then turned up the volume on the radio.

“Hailing Outpost Gateway and the Vanguard Islands, this is Captain Rolo, confirming successful extraction of the seeds from the ITC facility,” he said. “We’re standing by for orders from King Xavier.”

Static crackled from the speakers.

“That’s it?”

“Yes,” Ancla said. “¡Muy buenas noticias! This is good news!”

Rodger smiled, but he had hoped to get something about Magnolia.

“Give me those,” Rodger said. He took the headphones and sat down at the radio equipment, hoping the airship was within range.

As he worked the knob, he heard a clicking.

“Captain Rolo, this is Director Mintel of Outpost Gateway, do you copy?” Rodger said.

Nothing.

He looked at the channel. It was the right one, but there was no response.

The clicking continued, but this wasn’t coming from the headset. He slowly turned when Ancla tapped his shoulder.

Taking off the headset allowed him to hear the clicking of the seismograph.

“Oh, no,” Rodger whispered.

Monitors across the room chirped, confirming his fears of another radiation spike and seismic event.

He shot up from the chair and hurried over to the digital map. The radioactive vines snaked away from the city and toward the canal. This time, they were the most pronounced yet. Thick radioactive arteries of vegetation that appeared to have been activated by one thing: the desalination equipment.

The radio surged to life with the voice of Lieutenant Bromista.

“What’s he saying?” Rodger asked Ancla.

“His soldiers see a bright glowing.”

“Tell them to shut off the machine!” Rodger shouted.

Ancla nodded and Rodger grabbed his helmet.

“Where are you going?” she called out.

“To shut it off and get Yejun off that ship.” He rushed out of the bunker, running all the way to the bunker doors. They were closed and he had to wait for them to open.

By the time he got up into the camp, he could hear gunfire.

“Turn off the desalination machine!” Rodger yelled into the comms. “Shut it off!”

No one answered his frantic pleas.

The gates to the compound were closed when he got there, and he climbed up a ladder to stand on a container. The radioactive glow flashed from the jungle beyond the boatyard, and it was expanding toward the canal, stronger than before.

Panicked shouting came from the banks to the east.

Rodger turned toward bright lines of flame angling out toward the canal.

“No,” he whispered. “This can’t be happening.”

He stared in shock as vines burst out of the water. The flamethrowers chased the first few away, but all across the bank, more vines exploded from the dark canal.

They were crossing the canal for the first time ever, and this was his fault!

Lieutenant Bromista was in the turret of an APC that sped toward the soldiers battling the vines.

Rodger started to climb back down and saw a solitary figure on the deck of the Osprey, at the bow rail.

“Yejun!” Rodger yelled. “Yejun, this way!”

The youngster looked at Rodger, then turned and ran.

“No! What are you doing?” Rodger said.

The APC with Bromista in the turret sped over to the flamethrower teams as the vines overtook the gunners. Both men went down, the thick vines dragging them down the banks and into the water.

Bromista waved at the other soldiers, who were retreating now.

Across the canal, the brilliant glow rushed across, and with it, a sea of vines that exploded from the water. Several thick lianas wrapped around soldiers, pulling them down the bank and into the murky water.

The soldiers on the containers around Rodger hopped off the sides, abandoning their posts. He stood frozen, unsure what to do. There was no way to get to the mobile desalination equipment, and no way to get to Yejun without being overtaken by the pulsating red and purple vines that were already surging across the open field between the outpost and the canal.

An emergency alarm activated, snapping him to action.

He turned and climbed the ladder down. On the final rung, his prosthesis slipped and he belly-flopped in the mud. The front gate clanked open as he pushed himself up.

The APC raced inside, jerking to a stop and disgorging four of the original eight occupants. Lieutenant Bromista ran over to Rodger, yelling.

“How stop?” he yelled. “¿Cómo? ”

Rodger realized then that he was talking about the desalination machine.

“We can’t now!” he shouted back. “We have to go to the bunker.”

Bromista didn’t seem to like that answer.

“We have to get somewhere safe, Lieutenant! The vines will take out the machine and hopefully will retreat.”

Rodger pulled on his armor.

Finally, Bromista motioned for his soldiers. They all took off toward the bunker doors, which were still open. Construction workers and guards were fast retreating inside.

When they got there, Rodger waited on the ramp outside the entrance. They couldn’t close it until Yejun got here.

“!Rápido! ” Bromista yelled.

“Yejun is still out there! I can’t leave him.”

Bromista grabbed Rodger and pulled him inside.

“El muchacho vive,” Bromista said. “He survive by he self. You say it.”

Rodger wrestled free of the lieutenant, who was simply repeating what Rodger himself had said many times. The kid had survived for years out there. He would survive this.

A soldier shut the doors with a clank behind them.

Not a second later, something slammed against the outside of the blast doors.

The workers and soldiers behind them started to retreat even deeper into the bunker. Bromista and a few soldiers remained behind, but Rodger headed straight to the command room.

When he got there, Ancla was sending out an SOS.

“I’ve got someone on,” she said.

“Who?” he asked.

Heart pounding, Rodger tried to catch his breath as he picked up the headset. “This is Director Mintel. Who am I talking to?”

“Carl Lex,” came a voice.

“Where is Regent Everhart?” Rodger asked. “I need to speak to him.”

“He’s tied up for the moment.”

“Well, get him. Outpost Gateway is under attack!”

“Under attack by what?” Carl asked.

“Vines, radiation—I don’t know, but we need help. We need—”

A scream rang out in the distance. Shouting, then the sound of running.

“Tell Chief Everhart we are locked in the bunker and—”

“Michael Everhart has been placed under arrest,” Carl said. “I will inform the proper authorities to make sure they are aware of the situation. Good luck, Director Mintel.”

The line severed.

Rodger stood dumbfounded, unsure what he had just heard. There was no time to try to make sense of it.

“Try and get Captain Rolo,” he said to Ancla. “Or X, or anyone!”

She turned the knob on the radio as the lights flickered.

A deep tremor rippled under the floor. A sound like snapping sticks came from a wall behind them.

More screams flooded through the bunker.

A moment later, the lights flickered off, and with them the radio.

Flashlights blinked on throughout the room.

Rodger walked over to the doorway with Ancla. Shouting and hurried footsteps came from the hallways, followed by a rushing sound like a strong wind.

Rodger’s breath caught when he saw the yellow glow under the crack in the door. He stumbled back, bumping into Ancla.

“What is that?” she cried. “What is—”

Rodger went to lock the door, though he knew it would do no good. There was no stopping the radioactive glow, just as Yejun’s family could do nothing to stop it, nor could the dead Cazador soldiers from the Sea Sprite.

The only way to escape was to run, as the young boy had that day.

And as Rodger had not done today.

Instead of running, Rodger had come down here, trapping himself in what would be a tomb for him and everyone else at Outpost Gateway.

A crack webbed up the wall behind them. Snakelike vines wriggled through, their tips glowing red.

Rodger took off his glasses and wiped a tear from his eye.

There would be no reunion with Magnolia. No marrying her or having a family.

He was never going to see her again.

He trudged back to the radio equipment and sat down. The only thing he could do now was leave a message, and hope that someday she might find it.

As the walls crumbled around him, and shouts of horror echoed through the chamber, Rodger left his final message to Magnolia.

“I love you, my Queen. I will see you on the other side.”

thirty-four

Kade stared out the missing windshield, using his night-vision goggles to see in the darkness. The Hell Divers were on the outskirts of Brisbane, motoring on the dirt shoulder of a six-lane highway clogged with charred vehicles that were still radioactive.

The Geiger counter on his wrist computer ticked up to 400 rem. Without their suits, they would already have a fatal dose. And the readings continued to go up, closing in on 500 rem as Edgar drove closer toward the bridge to meet with King Xavier and the rescue crew.

If the radiation didn’t kill them, the Tasmanian devils would. Or the cyclopes or the crocs, or bats, or hybrid spider creatures.

This place was a bloody hell, and the divers were at the bottom of the food chain.

But it was the Tasmanian devils that struck fear in his heart. The snarling bear-size marsupial was chasing the APC out of the city.

Sofia and Tia sat together across from Kade, looking up information about the beasts on their wrist computer.

“They’re solitary—don’t hunt in packs,” Tia said. “I remember reading that in school. But they have powerful jaws.”

“Let’s see how it handles a grenade from Gran Jefe,” Sofia said.

Magnolia tried the comms again in the front seat, but the closer they got to the city, the worse the electrical interference became. They had lost contact with the airship, leaving them in the dark.

Kade hoped Captain Rolo had intercepted the seeds, but that did nothing to assuage his grief over the young diver Arlo’s death.

The APC skirted an overturned semi with a fully intact cab. The truck’s cargo was scattered across the ground—the black bones of cattle or some other large livestock that was being hauled to market during the first hours of the war.

Magnolia turned from the front seat.

“I think we lost him,” she said. “Get ready. We’ll be at the bridge soon, so pack up the meds and other gear.”

She called up to Gran Jefe, who stayed in the turret.

Edgar pushed down on the pedal, picking up speed on the dirt shoulder. They were closing in on their coordinates, and Kade prayed King Xavier was still there waiting at the river.

Sofia picked up the bag of medical supplies, and Tia grabbed another pack of gear. They would leave behind anything they couldn’t carry on their backs.

Kade stretched his wounded leg. Once they got to the bridge, he needed to be ready to run and fight. He unbuckled and went to sit by Tia.

“When we get out there, stay close to Sofia,” Kade said. “She will look after you. I might not be able to keep up, and that’s okay. You go, okay?”

“We go together,” Sofia said. “We’re all going home.”

“She’s right,” Magnolia said.

Kade grunted. He would just have to try to keep up and not put the rest of the team at risk. Strapping the belt over his chest, he heard a shriek outside.

Magnolia stared out the windshield at a pair of red eyes glowing on the street in front of them.

“Watch out!” she shouted.

Edgar swerved to miss the furry, snarling beast. It had to weigh over six hundred pounds. He turned sharply, right into the burned shell of a car. The armored front of the truck crushed the hull. Kade, who wasn’t buckled in, went flying into the opposite wall.

Edgar put them in reverse, but the car they had slammed into was stuck on the front bumper. The tires spun, squealing louder than the creature’s frenzied snarling.

In a moment of clarity, Kade got a perfect view of the furry black animal almost the size of a bone beast. It loped over and jumped onto the hood, leaning down to leer at them, fangs dripping saliva onto the broken glass.

Swiping out with a paw, it snatched Magnolia’s rifle before she could fire off a shot.

“Get us the hell out of here!” she screamed. “Gran Jefe!”

Kade didn’t hear a response, nor did he see the man’s legs in the turret anymore.

If Gran Jefe had been thrown out of the vehicle, they were in a world of trouble.

The creature reached inside the front again, slashing the front of Edgar’s armor with razor-sharp talons.

He pushed the pedal all the way down, freeing them from the car bumper but not from the beast on the hood.

Magnolia pulled a curved blade and thrust it out as the devil slashed at them again. This time, it lost a finger.

With a shriek of pain and rage, it lashed out with the other front paw, smacking Magnolia in the helmet.

“I can’t get a shot!” Sofia yelled.

Kade finally pushed himself up, dazed but ready to fight. He brought up his rifle and aimed at the nose of the shrieking beast.

It suddenly reared upward, going up on both back legs and grasping at its own back, where a Cazador cutlass protruded. Only then did Kade see the belly pouch that bulged with babies inside.

The beast leaped off the vehicle as Edgar backed away. Kade got up and moved between the front seats to see Gran Jefe in the middle of the road, one of his arms hanging at an odd angle, grenade launcher in the other hand.

“Wait!” Kade yelled.

Edgar slammed on the brakes, and Magnolia reached for his rifle.

The creature was on its feet again, but it had released its young, which were surrounding Gran Jefe as he tried to limp away, firing over his shoulder.

“Edgar, use the truck!” Magnolia shouted.

Kade pulled himself into the turret and grabbed the machine gun, aiming it at the offspring. The mother turned toward the APC, roaring in anger as .50-caliber rounds began blowing her children apart.

Edgar gunned the engine and slammed right into the beast, knocking it back as it went up on its hind legs.

Gran Jefe stumbled away from the young, which bolted across the highway for cover.

“Get in, mate!” Kade yelled.

Gran Jefe went around the back, and Sofia helped him inside.

Edgar sped onto the shoulder and away from the injured creature and its children. Two lay limply in the road.

The mother bounded after them.

Kade fired a burst from the machine gun at the beast, which was gaining easily on them. It let out an earsplitting shriek that made him wince.

He focused the next burst better, hitting it in the arm and finally making the devil back off. It ran off, vanishing among the vehicles.

Taking in a deep breath as they drove away, Kade finally managed to get his heartbeat under control.

“We’re almost there,” Magnolia said. “Kade, stay on the turret.”

“Copy, Commander.”

He scanned the dark road ahead, searching for hostiles on the final stretch to the bridge where they would be extracted from this hell on earth.

The barking howls waned, turning to angry and then sorrowful-sounding wails.

Kade never felt bad about killing monsters in the wastes, but hearing the distressed mother did make him pause for a moment.

She would have killed Gran Jefe and you, and she still might.

He kept the machine gun up and ready to fire. The lights on the APC flicked on as they came up to a collapsed bridge over the highway.

Edgar found a way around it, pulling up a hill and traversing the other side. They weren’t far now. Kade saw an old sign that partially read “Coboo . . .” Half the name of the river.

He alternated his gaze between the toxic jungle on the right side of the road and the abandoned vehicles. With the bridge in view, he finally started to believe they were going to make it.

Edgar slowed down to forty miles an hour, then thirty.

“Almost there,” Magnolia said. “Get ready to move.”

Kade rotated his shoulder, wincing from the sharp pain. His leg tingled from standing in the turret, but it was in far better shape now. He knew how lucky he was to be alive and to still have the leg at all.

He focused on the bridge, seeing their salvation grow bigger on the horizon. A smile crossed his face when he saw someone standing there, with a dog on one side, and a monkey on the other.

“King Xavier,” Kade said quietly, hardly believing his eyes.

He let go of the machine gun and prepared to slip down from the turret, but froze at a barking sound. This wasn’t Miles.

It was a Tasmanian devil.

Multiple devils.

Kade rotated in the turret as two of the massive beasts, then a third, bounded across the highway.

So much for not hunting in packs!

The lead beast leaped into the air as he grabbed the machine gun. He didn’t even have a chance to get off a shot before it plowed into the truck with a thud. It slumped away, dazed, and clearly agitated at not being able to knock them off the road.

Kade rotated the barrel and fired at the monster, chasing it away into the night.

He watched the road for the other two devils, but they were gone now. Maybe they knew that even their combined mass would do little to knock the vehicle off the highway.

“Anyone have eyes?” he asked.

As soon as he asked, he saw motion ahead. Turning the machine gun barrel, he sighted not one, but two beasts. They were preparing to jump on the truck, it seemed.

“Not today, you ugly assholes,” Kade whispered. He aimed the weapon at the closest monster and prepared to fire as the two creatures lifted a burned car and tossed it at the APC.

Edgar tried to swerve again, but the charred auto body hit their left front tire.

The world went topsy-turvy as Kade flew out of the turret and landed on the dirt. Pain flashed across his body as he lay there watching the APC turn on its side and skid across the concrete.

Gunfire lanced away from the bridge.

One of the beasts bounded over toward Kade, grabbing him by the leg and tossing him into the jungle. He landed with a thud, and his world went dark.

A memory broke across his mind, transporting him back to the machine camp. He knew right away where he was: back on the carts on the assembly line to the ovens.

It was from the day Joey was killed and Charmer surrendered to the machines.

“I’ll help you! I will do whatever you want!” Charmer had yelled to the machines from the cart in front of Kade.

Kade lay there quietly, ready to be incinerated. He had saved Tia from death, but for how long? She was a prisoner and would probably be better off having died on the airship.

“I’ll do anything! Anything!” Charmer kept screaming. “I have skills!”

Kade stared at the fiery oven ahead, which had just swallowed another of the prisoners.

“I wasn’t part of the plot!” Charmer yelled.

Kade closed his eyes, steeling himself for the few moments of physical pain that would release him from his mental anguish.

Charmer kept screaming as his cart entered the oven. But to Kade’s surprise, no screams of pain followed.

His cart was in next. He lay there in the heat, sweat dripping down his face. A clicking sounded, and a red light flashed across his body.

Then the doors opened, and his cart continued down the assembly line. It stopped a few minutes later, and a defector waiting on the side of the tracks freed him from his bonds and grabbed him. It took him through an open door and down a hallway.

A scream of pain rang out, rising into a bloodcurdling cry.

He passed a room with a window, seeing a machine holding an eyeball in its hand. Charmer turned toward the window, looking at Kade with his remaining eye as blood leaked out of the empty other socket.

Kade wasn’t sure what had saved him, maybe they needed workers after all the death, or maybe it was another reason. He would never know.

The memory faded, and Kade awoke, back in the jungle. Gunfire cracked in the distance, and an explosion shook the ground.

He was alone, lying in the brush.

When he tried to move, pain shot up his back and neck. He was hurt. He wasn’t sure how bad, but his body felt light—not a good sign.

He heard movement and crunching on his left.

A pair of blurry figures on all fours inched closer to him from that direction, and another approached on his right.

Three young Tasmanian devils surrounded him, snarling and watching him. He realized then that the brush around him was actually some sort of nest. He had been dragged here.

Kade tried his comms, but they were still down and yelling wasn’t going to do any good. He managed to scoot back a bit, but that only animated the little hellions.

One grabbed his left boot and bit down on the armored shin.

He jerked the leg back, sending another sharp pain up his back and neck. He tried to move his arms. They were wobbly, but he got a hand up as another beast came in from his left, trying to bite down on his helmet.

Another explosion went off in the distance, scaring off the creature, which bolted out of the nest. Gunfire continued, then what sounded like an engine.

The boat . . .

He thought he heard his name, but when he tried to call back, a barking shriek drowned out his voice.

He reached for the knife on his belt, knowing he was going to die. But unlike the time he was spared in the machine camp, this time he wasn’t ready.

The Vanguard Islands and his mission as a Hell Diver had given him a second chance at life. If he was going to die, he would go down fighting.

The maniacal barking drew nearer, and the sound of the motor faded.

He pulled up the knife and looked toward the road as the mother of the devils scrambled over into the weeds. The red eyes stared at him.

“You’re uglier than a hat full of assholes,” Kade muttered.

The hideous thing lowered its oversized head toward him. It checked out his blade, then pawed at the ground.

“Come on, let’s get on with it,” Kade said.

The beast suddenly looked up. Kade heard a zipping sound, and an arrow sank into its neck. The beast let out a howl and reached up with both front paws.

Kade fell to his back as an armored figure jumped in front of him and thrust a long sword into the monster’s chest. The soldier put his weight into it, pushing it deeper and deeper until the devil crashed onto its side.

The young ones barked and shrieked as arrows hissed all around Kade. The little monsters fled from the nest.

Kade rested his helmet against the ground, breathing heavily.

The Cazador in front of him turned, and Kade pushed himself up on his good arm to thank him.

“Gracias, mate,” he said.

The armored soldier towered over Kade. Then he saw that this man wasn’t wearing Cazador armor, but rather the same medieval armor they had found earlier on their journey.

When the strange knight wiped his long sword on the dead creature’s fur, Kade saw the trident engraved in the hilt.

“No bloody way,” Kade said.

The man reached down with his other hand, but Kade scrambled backward.

“It’s okay, pal,” the man said in a deep voice. “You’re lucky, bloody lucky.”

Kade stared, unsure what to say.

“We’ve been watching you, but those devils are fast,” the man said.

“What about my comrades?”

“Gone.”

The voice came from the left.

Kade pushed himself up, his eyes flitting to another knight, who gripped a longbow with tridents engraved in both limbs.

Four soldiers stood behind the man standing before Kade.

“Get up, and come with us,” he said.

Turning, he started to walk away.

“Where?” Kade asked. “Where are you taking me?”

The man hesitated. “To the place you have searched for,” he called back. “The Coral Castle, our home.”

thirty-five

Michael woke to sunshine and the rumble of boat engines. His head pounded something terrible.

When he tried to reach up, he found his natural hand and the robotic hand bound together. He couldn’t move his feet, either.

He turned over on his back and saw the Cazador oil rigs connected by three different bridges. On each of them, Cazadores stood at the railing, looking down. Some of them clacked their teeth; others called out in Spanish.

The soldiers on the Jet Skis yelled back to them. “¡Prisionero!”

Michael went on his side and saw a beaten man next to him. It took a few seconds to recognize the bruised bald head as Steve’s. His blind eye was completely swollen shut, and his lips were broken open.

At first glance, Michael wasn’t sure the man was even still alive, but he saw the chest almost imperceptibly rising and falling.

“Steve,” Michael mumbled. He squirmed in his restraints, stopping when he saw the wolf logo on the deck of the boat where they were being held.

The Sea Wolf.

Everything came rushing over him then. The trip to the island to load up the food. The attack by the Wave Riders, who killed Ton.

Michael felt his blood burning. He gritted his teeth and began to pull at the bonds on his wrists.

In an instant, the anger turned to fear. What about his family?

He fought harder, squirming to get free. A boot hit him in the back, knocking him onto his belly and pinning him to the deck. Another pair of boots walked around him, and he glanced up to see a Cazador soldier wearing a helmet adorned with a Siren’s jaw.

Jamal, the cousin of Gran Jefe.

“You don’t know what you’re doing,” Michael said. “You do this, and you start a war.”

In reply, he kicked Michael in the face.

When Michael woke up next, he was being dragged through a passage that had seen fire. That meant he could be in one of two places: the trading-post rig or oil rig 15.

It took him a few minutes to realize it was the latter.

They dropped him on the deck now cleared of the shacks and stalls that had housed people on rig 15 after the storm. The same place Alton had lived, and the same place Oliver and his son were killed.

Now it was filled with the secret food barrels and crates from the supercarrier Immortal. Not so secret anymore.

Sitting on one of those barrels was a man Michael should have killed already.

Charmer wore a tan tunic the same color as his eye patch. In one hand he held a submachine gun. He motioned with the short barrel, and the soldiers escorting Michael and Steve dropped Steve to the deck with a thud.

Groaning, he pushed himself up on bound hands. Blood drooled out of his mouth.

Charmer hopped down off the barrel.

“You disappoint me, mates,” he said. “Especially you, Michael Everhart. No, no, ‘disappoint’ isn’t the right word.”

He crouched in front of Michael.

“ ‘Disappoint’ is nowhere near the shock I felt when learning of your crimes,” he said.

“Crimes,” Michael replied. “What crimes have I committed?”

“Do you not understand why you are here?”

“The food? The food is our rainy-day fund, and I was bringing it back to the islands to let everyone know there is hope, even if—”

Charmer laughed. “You expect us to believe that? You hid the food, and you were going to unhide it? I think not. No, mate, I think you were going to take some for your own people.”

“You have no idea the type of man I am, and that couldn’t be any further from the truth, you son of a bitch.”

“Harsh words for a prisoner.” Charmer bent down farther to meet his gaze. “You’re right. I thought you were a good man—until I learned the truth.”

Charmer rose to his feet and motioned to someone out of view.

“Bring them in,” he said.

Through a side door across the space, two sky people with machine guns accompanied a thin woman whom Michael recognized. She was the woman he had spoken to several times when going to look for Alton.

“You’re here not just because of the food,” Charmer said. “You’re here because you stand accused of murdering Oliver and his son, Nez.”

“What?” Michael said, trying to stand.

A guard behind him pushed him back down to his knees.

“That’s a load of shit, and you know it,” Steve said.

Charmer gestured toward the woman, who was the aunt of a boy who had lived in the stall across from Alton and his mom after the storm.

“Lilyn saw a man with a robotic arm leaving the night of the murder,” Charmer said.

Michael caught her gaze, but she looked away.

“No need to feel guilty, Lilyn,” Charmer said. “You’re not the only one who saw him.”

He motioned again. This time, Alton was brought in, kicking and squirming in the grip of a soldier. He still wore the Marine Corps hat tight over his head.

The man carried him over and set him down, holding him by the back of his neck. “Stop squirming, you little shit,” said the guard.

“Let him go!” Michael yelled.

“It took a little getting out of him, but he finally told us what he saw,” Charmer said.

Michael pushed against his restraints, again trying to get up, only to be slammed back to the deck. Snarling, Michael fought more and was again pushed down.

“Relax, your family is safe,” Charmer said. “Unlike you, I don’t hurt kids.”

“Where are they?”

“Your wife is with your son and the Cazador child. I will forgive her for harboring Alton, but I can’t do that for your guard Victory, or whatever his name is.”

“You touch him and—”

“Oh, we already touched him, and he’s now in a cell,” Charmer said. “There’s a law to follow on these islands, mate. You’re the one who told me that, and we can’t just let you people break them and murder people as you see fit.”

“It wasn’t Michael!” Alton screamed. “It wasn’t him!”

“Really? Because you said you saw someone with a robotic arm.” Charmer scratched his chin as he looked at Michael’s prosthesis. “I sure don’t know anyone else with a metal arm like his.”

Michael couldn’t believe what he was hearing. But the more he thought about it, the more sense it made. He had been framed, by the conniving bastard standing in front of him.

It was a plot that had slowly unfolded over the past few weeks.

Steve looked over, but there was no skepticism in his eye. Michael knew that his deputy trusted him and didn’t buy these lies.

“It’s gonna be okay, partner,” Steve whispered.

No, Michael thought. No, it isn’t.

He had fought with Oliver in this very room after Nez and Alton got into a scrap. He thought of the opal that Oliver had been instructed to give Layla. Charmer would paint both incidents as motives that had led Michael to murder Oliver and his son.

Michael looked back to Charmer. The fact he could do that to one of his own men and to a kid meant that the man was even more dangerous, even crazier, than Michael had suspected.

He felt the gravity of the situation as a cold lump in the pit of his stomach. Victor was in prison, Ton was dead, and there was plenty of evidence against Michael for a crime he didn’t commit.

Charmer reached out as if he was going to put a hand on Michael’s shoulder, then retracted it.

“You rescued us from the machines, and for that, your crime of hiding the food will be forgiven,” Charmer said. “After all, I am a just man.”

He stood up and stiffened.

“However, for the murder of Oliver and his son, Nez, you won’t be forgiven if found guilty,” Charmer said. He held up the leather whip that Oliver had once carried. “And you will hang from this.”

Michael resisted the urge to snap his restraints and kill Charmer right where he stood, but even if he could, it would just make him look guilty.

“Take him away,” Charmer said.

Two of Charmer’s men lifted Michael off the deck.

“You’ll never get away with this,” Michael said. “The king will return, and when he does, he will—”

“He will what?” Charmer asked. He stared at Michael, waiting. “You know what I think? I think the king is going to realize what you did and offer you the same fate he offered someone who betrayed him in the past.”

“What?” Michael said.

Jamal stepped forward, his helmet clutched against his side.

“Ada Winslow,” he said. “She kill my brother. For that, the king exile her into the wastes.”

“He did it to prevent a war between his people and the Cazadores,” Charmer said. “If he returns from the wastes, then he will do the same with you.”

Charmer raised a finger.

“The question is, will the king return from the wastes?” he said with a shrug. “We’ll find out soon.”

Something about that statement made Michael wonder if Charmer knew something he didn’t about X. If X was dead, then Michael would be soon enough. His fate rested in the hands of the king.

* * * * *

King Xavier leaned on the reinforced bow of the tactical boat. Several crocodile teeth remained embedded in the wood, which was stained with the blood of men. He drew a deep breath of filtered air that smelled of plastic.

They had survived the many and varied monsters of the wastes and were leaving them behind. But they were also leaving Commander Kade Long.

After hours of searching, X had called it off. It seemed Kade’s diving career had ended back where his people once lifted off two and a half centuries ago.

“I’m sorry, Cowboy Kade,” X whispered.

Miles glanced up at him, his tail down inside his suit.

They had taken a licking out here. And in the end, they had failed to find the Coral Castle.

Still, the mission wasn’t a complete loss. Now they had better seed varieties to help them avoid a full-blown famine back at the islands.

But it had come at another price.

Along with Kade, Arlo had perished. Four of the six Barracudas were killed, along with over twenty Cazador and sky soldiers. Add in the losses back at the Panama Canal a month earlier, and the combined Vanguard forces had been devastated.

With the death toll mounting, X had decided to postpone the search for the Coral Castle indefinitely.

It was time to head back to the supercarrier Immortal and then return to the Vanguard Islands with the seeds on the airship.

X turned from the view of the river and walked past General Forge and the surviving soldiers, into the boat’s cabin.

The Hell Divers were camped out on the deck, too. Exhausted, they looked up at him without saying a word. Gran Jefe alone had taken refuge in the bottom compartment of the boat, following the king’s orders to keep him separated from Jo-Jo.

She had lost a lot of blood from the croc bite and now lay sedated on the deck. Two Cazador soldiers had also suffered grave wounds and were being treated belowdecks.

“Mags, with me,” X said.

She got up and went into the cabin, where General Forge and Captain Two Skulls stood at the controls. The hatch to the lower compartment was open, and Gran Jefe looked up from the deck below.

“Your Majesty,” he said.

X ignored him. “General, have we made contact with Captain Rolo yet?” X asked.

“Negative.”

“So why isn’t he answering?” X narrowed his eyes.

“Before Arlo died, he said we were connected, but they weren’t responding.”

“It’s got to be the storm interference.”

“It better be.”

The boat curved out of the river delta and into Moreton Bay.

He was glad to be putting it behind them.

“Where’s the Immortal?” he asked.

“About ten miles out to sea,” Captain Two Skulls said. “We’re headed to the Frog at Moreton Island. The ship has multiple fire-teams on board and is ready to assist.”

“Tell them to stay put for now,” X said. “Mags, keep trying to raise Captain Rolo.”

“Okay.”

X motioned for General Forge.

They left the cabin and went to the stern, stepping over the bloodstains—a painful reminder of their losses on this mission. At the stern rail, X stopped to look out over Brisbane.

Along the coast, the radioactive ruins stretched as far as X could see.

“We’re entering a new phase for our people, General Forge,” X said. “Now that we have a food solution, we have time to go home and rebuild. But unlike the hybrid seeds that will germinate and grow quickly, our people will not.”

X was thinking of Bray, Rhino Jr., and kids like Alton. Children were the future of the islands.

“We must enter a new phase, focused on peace,” X continued. “I know it’s not a Cazador custom, but we must put the warlike ways behind us.”

Forge seemed to hesitate a beat before nodding.

“I have looked forward to this day, my King,” he said, thumping his chest armor. “I will do everything in my power to keep the peace between all our people when we return.”

“I know you will, and I’m grateful for your service.”

“Es mi honor, King—”

Forge abruptly tilted his head and took a step away from X to look out to sea. X followed his eyes, expecting to see the Frog.

He saw only waves.

“What?” X asked.

Forge pointed from the sea to the sky.

Narrowing his old eyes, X focused on a tiny light high in the clouds. The blue glow of thrusters illuminated the beetle shape of the airship Vanguard.

“There she is,” X whispered.

They hurried back to the cabin.

“You got Rolo on the comms yet?” X asked Magnolia.

“No, still not answering.”

X ducked down to look through the viewports.

“He’s right up there!” X pointed.

Magnolia stared. “What the hell! The bastard can hear us, but he’s ignoring us.”

She tried again and got only static.

“Contact Timothy,” X said.

“I tried,” she said. “The electrical storm is interfering. The Immortal is too far away.”

X watched the airship through the viewport. It was heading out to sea, in the same direction as the Immortal.

On the horizon, a landmass emerged.

“Moreton Island,” said Two Skulls.

X lost sight of the airship and searched for the Frog. He found it a few minutes later. The three-hundred-foot assault ship with a hybrid diesel-electric engine was anchored a quarter mile off the island’s southeastern shore.

“All right, get everyone ready,” X said.

They slowed on final approach, cruising toward the stern, where a crew of sailors stood by to extract them.

Captain Two Skulls motored the battered boat into position, and the exhausted survivors climbed off.

The first person X saw was Corporal Delgado, who had come from the Immortal to assist the teams on the Frog. X was glad to see her, especially with Jo-Jo injured.

The medics rushed onto the boat. Hell Divers and soldiers helped the injured up from belowdecks.

Jo-Jo lifted her head slightly at the activity. She let out a grunt as Gran Jefe passed, paying the animal no mind.

Valeria bent down to Jo-Jo. “Lo siento,” she said. “Miles run from me.”

“It’s okay, Miles has a way of escaping,” X said.

X remained behind a minute with the animals and the corporal.

“She’s got a bad bite,” he said.

Valeria looked over her arm. “I fix her up.” She stood and looked X up and down. “How are you?”

“Fine.” X patted Jo-Jo and then tapped his leg for Miles to follow.

They went straight to the bridge, where Captain Two Skulls and General Forge were talking with Magnolia in front of the radio equipment.

She turned toward X, eyes wide.

“What?” X asked.

She stammered something, but X couldn’t make it out as he crossed the bridge, which was alive with activity.

“Mags, what is it?”

“Outpost Gateway,” she said. “They sent an SOS and then went offline.”

X stared a moment. “I’m sure everything is okay,” he said. “Probably just the storm.”

“No, listen to the message Timothy relayed a few hours ago.”

X joined her at the monitors, where a comms officer played the transmission. Panicked voices broke over the channel, behind the voice of Corporal Ancla.

“We’re under attack,” she reported. “Vines . . . the jungle . . . está vivo . . . is alive!”

Magnolia put a hand over her mouth.

X stepped up closer.

“Get the AI on the horn. And, damn it, get that son of a bitch Rolo on the comms, now!” X shouted. “I want to know what the hell is happening out there!”

Magnolia blew a lock of pink hair off her face.

“Mags, I’m sure . . .” X started to say.

She raised a hand and stormed off.

X swallowed hard. If they had lost Outpost Gateway . . .

Don’t think like that. Not until you have confirmation.

“The Immortal is still out of range,” said Captain Two Skulls.

The Frog began to turn away from the island. X and Miles went over to Magnolia. She was crying now.

“Arlo, Kade, and now . . .” she started to say.

“We don’t know what happened to Rodger,” X said in a soothing voice. “These storms always screw up transmissions. For all we know, it was electrical interference.”

She faced X, anger breaking through the sadness. “If he isn’t . . . if he is gone, I will never forgive myself.”

Static crackled behind them.

“This is Timothy Pepper. Do you—”

X and Magnolia hurried to the radio.

“Pepper, this is King Xavier. We copy. What is the status of Outpost Gateway?”

There was a slight delay.

“We have lost all contact, sir.”

X stared out the viewports, his heart thumping.

“The airship Vanguard has confirmed delivery of the seeds,” he said. “They are currently on their way . . .”

The radio hissed with white noise.

X gritted his teeth. “Pepper,” he said. “Pepper, do you copy?”

“King Xavier . . . We have . . .”

“What is that?” someone called out from the front of the command center.

X squinted at a bright comet on the horizon. The streak of fire was moving fast, almost too fast to see, but X recognized the object.

Like a lightning bolt hurled from the clouds by Zeus himself, a cruise missile pierced the darkness.

“Get down!” X shouted.

He pulled Magnolia to the deck and then grabbed Miles, shielding the dog’s face.

“Close your eyes!” he shouted. “Everyone look away!”

The brilliant flash hit the Frog a moment later, lighting up the bridge like an X-ray machine. X could see through his eyelids, and what he saw seized his breath.

Through his suit, he saw the bones in his arm and the bones of his dog.

X felt fear unlike any he had ever known.

He also felt guilt to match the fear.

The missile had come from the sky. From the Vanguard. Rolo had fired a nuclear cruise missile at the Immortal, destroying it and anything else in the vicinity.

Screams and shouting resonated in the distance, but they sounded far away—even though one of the voices was Magnolia, and she stood right next to him.

The noise of the blast hit them a moment later, drowning out all the panicked voices. A force slammed into the ship, rocking them violently.

X gripped Miles tighter.

As the glow dissipated, X slowly rose to his feet to look at the horizon, his eyes confirming what his heart already knew.

Out at sea, several miles away, a colossal fireball rose into the sky, pushing up a mushroom cloud that reached high into the electrical storms.

“My God,” X said, unable to hear his own voice.

Stumbling, he turned to find Captain Two Skulls, who stood at the helm.

“Get us out of here!” X shouted, still unable to hear his voice.

The Frog was already turning in what seemed like slow motion. The fire from the nuclear blast pushed up a tsunami of water that plowed toward it.

There was no way they were going to escape it.

“Everyone belowdecks!” X yelled.

The bridge emptied quickly, but Captain Two Skulls remained at his post, shouting orders and gripping the wheel.

He looked at X, a moment of understanding passing between the two old warriors.

General Forge grabbed X and pushed him forcefully out of the room. X made sure Miles and Magnolia were with him, and together they entered a passageway.

Within thirty seconds of the blast, the heat hit the boat. X could feel it through the hull, as if he had stepped into scorching sun. The crowd rushed down an enclosed ladder to take shelter.

The panic was unlike anything X had seen in hardened soldiers, many of whom had spent days or even weeks battling monsters in the wastes.

But this was something altogether more terrifying.

This was how the world had ended, and Captain Rolo had just unleashed the same devastating weapon on X and his people. The same people who had rescued Captain Rolo and his people from the machines.

And X had given him the power to do it. A cruise missile was perfect because it could be dropped from the retrofitted launchers, then activated once its exhaust blast no longer posed any danger to the airship.

If the captain was evil enough and crazy enough to do this, then X knew that his loved ones at home weren’t safe, either. They would come for Michael next, if they hadn’t already. And it was his fault for leaving Michael on his own.

The anger burning in X rivaled the inferno on the horizon.

He made sure Magnolia and Miles were inside the hatch, and then closed it before anyone could stop him. He ran back to the bridge, where Captain Two Skulls stood watching another sight that made X gasp.

A wall of water advanced toward the ship, dwarfing it. Two Skulls sped toward the bay in Moreton Island for shelter.

The mushroom cloud billowed in the distance, a tower of fire and smoke.

The wall of water slammed into the other side of Moreton Island, knocking down everything in its path.

“King Xavier, you must come with me!”

General Forge grabbed at X, but it was too late.

“Brace yourself!” X shouted.

They entered Moreton Bay as the tsunami rushed over the island and kept going.

X got down behind a workstation next to General Forge and Captain Two Skulls as the bow rose higher and higher. The hull groaned like a dying leviathan.

The bow slowed its tilt, stopped rising, and began to drop. X felt his guts float upward as they dropped. He sneaked a glance forward and saw the bow stabbing toward the dark surface.

Forge grabbed X, holding on to him for a second.

The bow plunged into the sea before leveling off in a slow bounce back above the surface. Glass shattered.

X flew sideways and thudded against the hull. The last thing he saw was water rushing into the bridge.

When X woke up, he was looking at Magnolia. She looked mad as hell.

Miles licked X on the cheek. Groggily he sat up, moaning.

Corporal Delgado was there, holding a tube that she must have held to his nose to wake him.

All around him were the faces of horrified soldiers, Hell Divers, and sailors.

For a moment, no one said anything.

It was General Forge who finally broke the silence.

He reached down and helped X up.

“Captain Rolo think he kill you, King Xavier, pero he not remember your other name,” Forge said. “He forgot you are the Inmortal.”

“How many people were on the supercarrier?”

“Two hundred and two,” said Captain Two Skulls. The big man wiped a tear from his face. The first time X had seen him cry.

A clacking noise made X turn to find Slayer and Blackburn, both on crutches. The two injured Barracuda soldiers stared in awe at the shattered viewports overlooking Moreton Island. Both men had insisted on being transported from the Immortal to the Frog when they learned X and his team were in trouble. That had saved their lives.

X heard footfalls as more people showed up. They filed into the room, dazed and full of questions that had no easy answers.

“What do we do now?”

“Why did this happen?”

“How do we get home?”

Staggering, X put a hand to his head. It was obvious the ship had sustained major damage, and although they were still motoring away from the radioactive fallout, it was in bad shape and might not make it back to the Vanguard Islands.

“What are your orders, King Xavier?” asked General Forge.

X turned to the dozens of faces of the people counting on him. Cazadores, Hell Divers, and civilians from different groups they had rescued from around the planet all watched him in anticipation.

X met Forge’s eye. He had just promised the general they would put their ways of violence and war behind them. That was before Captain Rolo declared war on both their peoples.

It was obvious now. Rolo and his henchmen were trying to take the islands for themselves. He had detonated a nuclear missile, vaporizing the 202 people aboard the supercarrier Immortal, assuming that X was among them.

Right now Rolo would be up in the airship Vanguard, watching the mushroom cloud and crowing over his great coup. He had aimed for the king, and he had no way of knowing that he had missed.

“We find a way to get home,” X said. “Then I hunt down Rolo and feed him to the Octopus Lords, a piece at a time.”

Epilogue

Lightning cracked like a shotgun in Kade’s ear. His bruised body hurt all over, and he felt every wave the motorboat banged over. For the past three hours, he had suffered on the bare deck.

The black sack over his helmet kept him blind. Only the occasional lightning flash gave him a glimpse of the boat. It was maybe fifty feet long, with an enclosed cabin that had a second level.

The knights had used ropes to bind his legs, hands, and arms. The knots were good, and he could hardly squirm.

Rain tapped on his armor as the boat motored farther out to sea. Lightning sizzled in all directions now, giving him longer glimpses of his captors.

There were six knights: two in the enclosed pilothouse, two more under the awning watching him, and two belowdecks. They all wore the same armor as the bodies Kade and the Cazadores had discovered with King Xavier over the past week.

Apparently, some of those warriors still had living comrades.

Kade sat with his back against the bulkhead in the bow, facing the main cabin, trying to pick up any conversation. All he could hear was the waves. The last he heard anyone speak was before they boarded the boat three hours earlier. Two of the soldiers had come running and screaming just as the ground shook from a violent earthquake.

Kade had never experienced one before, but the ground had moved as if a monster were trying to dig its way out, right under his boots.

The fear had passed as they loaded him into the boat and got out to sea, but his heart kept pounding in his chest. Not from fear but from excitement.

He tingled at the thought of seeing his destination—a place he had spent so much time searching for before his capture. The Coral Castle did exist.

He had so many questions for these commandos in their medieval armor, but none of them were talking now, or if they were, he couldn’t hear them.

A few minutes passed, and Kade heard footsteps on the deck. A lightning flash showed a man approaching with a crossbow over his chest. Kade’s laser rifle was slung over his smooth shoulder plate. In the next flash of lightning, Kade saw his Monster Hunter revolver holstered at his waist.

Kade felt anger rising inside him, but he thought back to the last time he was in captivity, held by the machines. Anger did nothing good. He had to play his cards right. His people needed him. The Vanguard Islands needed him.

The man stopped a few feet from Kade. He was looking over the bow.

“Get ready!” he shouted.

Thunder boomed, and Kade’s heart thumped in anticipation.

This was it. He was about to see the Coral Castle.

He searched the darkness, waiting for lightning to give him his first view. It came a moment later on the horizon, where he spotted a dark hump of land. The blue glow faded away before he could discern more.

The boat arced away in the opposite direction.

Movement came from across the deck as three of the knights went to the starboard rail. The boat slowed, and Kade pressed his back against the bulkhead to push himself up to his feet.

“Don’t move!” someone yelled.

He turned as another approached, illuminated by another torrent of lightning flashes.

This one carried something in his hands—a rope, perhaps. A second soldier came from his left, holding something that they snapped around his neck. A metal collar, like what they had used on Jo-Jo.

The other man clipped a chain to that collar.

“I wouldn’t try anything if I were you,” said a gravelly voice. Someone bent down and untied the rope around Kade’s legs.

The boat bobbed in the water as he was led across the deck. He staggered but didn’t fall.

A gate in the starboard rail clanked open. Kade knew the sound. Nearly tripping again, he was led toward it.

The bag was lifted from his head.

Blinking, he stared at a wood plank a foot wide that spanned the ten feet from the railing to a round, black metal platform protruding above the water. Just beyond the platform stretched an acre of dead, bone-white coral.

A knight scampered across the plank and opened a hatch in the platform.

“Move it, let’s go,” he said.

Kade tried to turn and look behind them, but the man who had his weapons forced his helmet down.

“Go,” he said.

Kade walked the plank to the round platform in the middle of an ocean that stretched as far as he could see. They were in the middle of a dead reef, but a hatch led down into the coral.

It struck him then that maybe the Coral Castle was a submarine that had been docked here permanently, like the ITC Dagger.

The knight at the hatch started down a ladder. As Kade was led up to the edge, the man carrying his pistol moved in front of him.

“You keep your mouth shut,” he said. “You are at our mercy.”

Kade nodded and started down as he heard the boat speed away.

He counted the rungs.

Fifty.

Then one hundred.

The hatch overhead banged shut, shrouding him in almost complete darkness.

He carefully worked his way down.

At 115 rungs, his boots hit a floor. Down a wide corridor, a candle flame spread a weak glow over the walls and ceilings.

This was no submarine. This was an underwater facility of some sort.

The lead knight walked to a second sconce, where he lit the oil lamp.

“Go,” said the man carrying Kade’s pistol.

Kade started down the tunnel as his eyes adjusted to the weak light. Massive pipes snaked along the walls and overhead. After ten minutes of walking, they came to a hatch. This one had some of the yellow paint still on the side.

The lead soldier used a key to open it. The thick door opened to a wide chamber of clear tanks full of water. A metal catwalk crossed over the tanks.

Footsteps clomped after him as he moved.

Kade slowed to look at the tanks. Fat fish swam among long strands of thick seaweed, and all sorts of creatures skittered about hunks of colorful live coral. Crabs, lobsters, shrimp, and a green spotted eel snaked through the current.

Each tank seemed to have a filtration system.

When they were halfway across the vast room, a hollow metallic sound drew his attention to the far end. Ten feet above a tank, a hatch in the overhead opened and a tube snaked down into the water.

Kade halted, only to be pushed forward.

“Did I say stop movin’, mate?”

Kade was getting sick of being pushed around, but he buried his anger. These people had saved him from death, and while they weren’t friends at this point, he didn’t want to ruin any chance of becoming friends.

He certainly didn’t want to be seen as an enemy.

They crossed to a passageway with stairs that led down three levels. Each landing had a closed hatch. Symbols marked the rusted metal, but nothing he understood.

Candles flickered to life as they descended.

They had to be deep inside the reef now.

The next hatch opened to a chamber with multiple levels, lit with white LEDs. Kade’s captor marched him across a concrete floor strewn with mounds of plastic and metal that suggested some sort of salvage space.

The levels above were built around the open chamber, with balconies of individual apartments or living spaces protruding from the walls. Platforms with guardrails stretched over each level, bridging the open space to the other side.

He glanced up at several people moving across one of the platforms. Tarps, tents, and clothing hung over railings on balconies of individual living spaces. It was like an oil rig, but underground. None of those people looked down as he was led, apparently unseen, through the darkness underneath them.

The knight up ahead opened a hatch to a corridor with doors along each wall. Some were ajar, revealing desks and maps and monitors.

The little procession finally stopped in front of a closed door. The knight with the key stepped back, and the one with Kade’s pistol went ahead.

“Remember what I said. You are here at our mercy, by the Forerunner’s grace,” he whispered. “You speak only if you’re asked to speak, and you show respect or pay the price.”

His voice seemed different, almost fearful.

Kade didn’t ask who this Forerunner was, because he knew he was about to find out.

The hatch creaked open to a halo-shaped observation platform overlooking a dark room below. Monitors hung from the ceiling about ten feet above the platform. It had built-in box-shaped terminals, and a rail wrapping around.

Kade walked out and saw more monitors mounted on the walls below, some active with security feeds of the station, others dark. He stopped at the railing that overlooked the bowl-shaped bottom floor some twelve feet below.

A man in a wheelchair sat watching the monitors. Next to the wheelchair was some sort of medical equipment with beeping screens and an IV bag on a stand. Cords and a drip line ran from under the red tunic the man wore.

The knights spread out around the platform, each going to a terminal that glowed to life. Kade counted twelve terminals but only four knights.

The wheelchair turned, and the man glanced up at Kade. One of his eyes flashed blue.

The knights all took a knee and bowed.

Unsure what to do, Kade followed suit.

The cranking went on as risers lifted the wheelchair with the medical equipment attached. Kade glanced up as discreetly as he could. The man wore a tattered red tunic with a symbol on the breast that Kade couldn’t make out. Nor could he see the man’s features in the darkness.

“Take off your helmet,” said the man behind Kade.

Kade reached up with his bound hands and twisted off the helmet.

He shook his shaggy hair back just as the cranking stopped and the glowing blue eye met his gaze from a foot away. So close, Kade could smell his putrid breath.

The glow of the prosthetic eye spread over deep wrinkles in his brow and cheeks. A white mustache hid his upper lip. His bald, liver-spotted scalp glistened as the monitors above them flickered on.

Only then did Kade get a full view of the oldest man he had ever encountered. Probably in his nineties, maybe even a hundred years old. This man was the Forerunner. The leader of the Coral Castle.

The man stared at Kade, and Kade stared back, wondering how many of the world’s secrets those eyes had witnessed over a very long lifetime.

The mustache curled slightly as the Forerunner reached toward Kade. The robe fell away from a gaunt prosthetic arm with a cord snaking away.

“What . . .” he said in a half-synthesized, half-human voice. “What did your people do?”

He shouted the last word in a cracking voice that echoed through the chamber as his mechanical fingers grabbed Kade by the neck. With strength that seemed superhuman, he lifted Kade off the platform.

“What did your people do!” he shouted again.

Shocked, Kade wasn’t sure how to respond. He could hardly even breathe, but he dare not struggle.

The mechanical arm lifted him higher off the platform as the man glared up at him with rage. When Kade saw two new lights flicker on, he realized that the wheelchair and the cyborg were rising toward a bank of monitors.

Kade squinted at an image of an airship. Not just any—this was the Vanguard, cruising out of the clouds.

It fired a missile. The other monitor showed the destination of that missile: a long aircraft carrier cutting across the ocean.

Then the supercarrier Immortal disappeared in a dazzling flash.

Kade watched in horror as a mushroom cloud rose over the water.

“No,” he choked.

It couldn’t be . . .

But there was no mistaking either ship.

The earthquake had been a bomb detonation—a nuclear bomb. Launched by none other than Captain Rolo. The realization hit Kade like a sucker punch.

The bionic arm kept him in the air as more scenes played across the monitors.

“We watched you,” said the Forerunner.

The video showed a group of armored figures trekking across a highway, then into a jungle. It was grainy, but Kade could tell this was footage of the Barracudas, King Xavier, and him during their search for the Coral Castle.

More footage showed their tanks and APCs motoring down the Sunshine Coast after the Vanguard army arrived. Then at the Sunshine Castle, where they lost more soldiers.

Next, it showed their camp at the lighthouse, where Jo-Jo and Miles stood next to King Xavier and General Forge.

Finally, it showed them on a boat traveling to the ruins of Brisbane, and images of the fight on the bridge and highway where Kade was captured.

“We saved you!” the man roared.

Kade tried to respond, but only a weak breath of air hissed out. His vision darkened as his brain starved for oxygen. All he could think about was the nuke.

Was it true? Had he just witnessed King Xavier being vaporized?

“I . . .”

The man loosened his grip, and Kade dropped to the deck, gasping on all fours. He blinked away the darting spots in his vision as his lungs filled.

The blue eye of the Forerunner watched him recover, as did the knights, who were all standing now, hands on their sword pommels.

“Your people came here searching for our refuge,” said the man with Kade’s pistol. “We have encountered the brutal Cazadores before, but never sky people or ‘Hell Divers,’ as you say you are. So we watched you. We waited as we always do, to see if your hearts are good or filled with evil.”

Kade looked up at the cyborg, still trying to breathe.

“You killed many monsters, and that is why I told my legion to spare you, and only you. But your people ended up being monsters, too,” said the Forerunner’s synthesized voice. “Monsters worse than any we have met, monsters who poisoned the sea and land with more radiation. Adding more death.”

Kade finally caught his breath and raised his bowed head.

How could he explain what had happened? There was no good way to explain why his people had nuked the supercarrier. Hell, he didn’t quite understand it—only that Captain Rolo and Charmer had decided to take the Vanguard Islands for themselves by attacking the very people who had saved them.

It seemed they had killed the one man who could have saved them all.

But Kade had already chosen his side. Sworn his loyalty to King Xavier, and the king’s death would not change that.

“Speak,” said the Forerunner.

Kade slowly got to his feet.

“My name is Kade Long,” he said. “Like I already told these knights, I’m a Hell Diver from an airship called the ITC Victory, where I lived with my wife and sons for many years before the machines lured us to Mount Kilimanjaro twelve years ago and killed . . .”

He hung his head a moment, swallowed, and told how the Hell Divers had saved him a year ago and brought him to the Vanguard Islands.

“What you saw was an act of war,” Kade said. “A war between good and evil, and my people are on the side of good.”

“Right. We’ll just take your word for it,” said the man behind Kade.

“Silence,” said the Forerunner.

“My apologies,” he replied.

The Forerunner studied Kade with that bright-blue artificial eye.

“Why come here if you found this paradise you described?” he asked.

“We were running out of food, got hit by storms. We knew we must expand or we would all perish. That is also why we went to Brisbane—to search for seeds . . .”

Kade realized how this all sounded. His people were destroying one another over lack of resources, and when they had failed to find the Coral Castle, Captain Rolo made his move.

These people would never trust him.

Unless . . .

There was only one thing he could do.

He had to tell them about the best man he had ever met. Flawed, to be sure, but the only one who could lead humankind out of the apocalypse.

“I know how all this looks—I hardly believe it myself—but I implore you to listen to a story that defies even what I believe,” Kade said.

The Forerunner looked even more grave, if that were possible.

“Speak, then, Kade Long.”

And speak Kade did. He told the story of King Xavier Rodriguez, who had led his people of the Hive to the Vanguard Islands, killed el Pulpo, and saved people from bunkers in Rio de Janeiro, Mount Kilimanjaro, and Panama. He explained how King Xavier ruled with a strong hand but an empathetic heart, bringing fairness and justice to the islands.

Then he told the story of Captain Rolo and Charmer.

“This King Xavier,” said the Forerunner. “You call him ‘the Immortal.’ ”

“Yes,” Kade replied. “But it seems he has died in that explosion you showed me.”

“Is he like me?”

Kade shook his head. “With respect, King Xavier was just a man, and his people need my help. Please, I don’t expect you to get involved with our war or help my people, but please let me go. I must return to the islands.”

The Forerunner looked briefly to the knights, then up at another monitor.

The screen showed a ship cruising across the ocean. The Frog, Kade realized.

On the deck was a man in armor, and a dog.

“King Xavier!” he breathed.

“It seems your king is indeed immortal,” said the Forerunner. “He was not on that aircraft carrier when it was destroyed.”

Kade stared in shock.

“Please, you must let me go to him,” he said. “King Xavier is the only one who can save my people. I must help him. I must because he is the last beacon in the darkness. Like your lighthouses, he can lead us all to the light.”

The Forerunner looked away from the monitor, then at each knight in turn.

Kade waited for what felt like an eternity.

“Take Kade Long, find this king, and bring him to me,” said the Forerunner. “I will be the judge of his heart, and whether he is the man I have searched my entire life for.”

The cyborg began to retreat into the darkness of his chamber but stopped.

Kade felt the icy glow of that blue eye on him again.

“If this Hell Diver tries to escape, or if his people are not what he says they are . . .” The Forerunner cleared his throat. “Kill every last one of them and dump their corpses with the rest of the monsters.”

Reserve the adventure now and preorder
Hell Divers X: Fallout, coming early 2023!

Before you go . . .

Please take a moment to leave a short, honest review. Reviews help me gauge whether readers want more books in a series and Amazon also uses reviews to determine which books to promote. Thank you for reading!

Don’t forget to sign up for my spam-free newsletter to learn more about future releases, special offers, and bonus content. Subscribers will also receive access to exclusive giveaways.

CLICK HERE TO SIGN UP

Are you a Nicholas Sansbury Smith fan? Join him on social media. He would love to hear from you!

Facebook Fan Club: Join the exclusive NSS army!

Facebook Author Page: Nicholas Sansbury Smith

Website: NicholasSansburySmith.com

Instagram: instagram.com/author_sansbury

Email: GreatWaveInk@gmail.com

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Nicholas Sansbury Smith is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of the Hell Divers series, the Orbs series, the Trackers series, the Extinction Cycle series, the Sons of War series, and the new E-Day Series. He worked for Iowa Homeland Security and Emergency Management in disaster mitigation before switching careers to focus on storytelling. When he isn’t writing or daydreaming about the apocalypse, he enjoys running, biking, spending time with his family, and traveling the world. He is an Ironman triathlete and lives in Iowa with his wife, daughter, and their dogs.

Table of Contents

- Recap since Hell Divers VIII: King of the Wastes...

- Prologue
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-One
- Twenty-Two
- Twenty-Three
- Twenty-Four
- Twenty-Five
- Twenty-Six
- Twenty-Seven
- Twenty-Eight
- Twenty-Nine
- Thirty
- Thirty-One
- thirty-Two
- Thirty-Three
- Thirty-Four
- Thirty-Five
- Epilogue
- About the Author