Hell Divers (21 page)

Tin awoke to the worst headache of his life, and the overwhelming stench of chicken manure. He tried to open his eyes but couldn't manage to crack them more than a sliver. He tried to move his hands, but they were bound behind his back.

He could hear human voices—faint but close. There were animal noises, too. Barking dogs and … Then he remembered the ruptured gas bladder.

His heavy eyelids popped open to the sight of dirt. Using his head to push against the ground, he got his knees under him. He gagged and spat out a mouthful of dirt and manure.

“Kid's awake!” shouted the man who had hit him. He sauntered over.

Tin wiped his mouth against his chest and looked around. The hostage farmers were sitting to his right. They were all just outside the entrance to the plastic clean room.

Alex stopped in front of him. “You left a nice bruise on my ankle, kid. Looks like I left you with a bigger one, though.” He chuckled and made a fist. “Want a matching set?”

“Hitting a kid,” one of the farmers said. “That's makes you a real sack of shit in my book.”

Alex walked over to the farmer and kicked him in the gut. The man rolled on his side. Between gasps, he yelled, “You son of a bitch!”

“You don't know when to shut your mouth,” Alex said.

“Enough!” Travis shouted. He and the other two men emerged from the plastic door of the clean room. Alex kicked the farmer a second time, then walked away.

“I'm sorry,” Tin whispered.

The man groaned. “It's okay, kid. Better me than you.”

Tin struggled with the bindings, working his wrists back and forth until he felt them tighten into his flesh.

“What's your name?” the farmer asked.

“Tin.”

“I'm Angelo. Do me a favor, okay?”

Tin nodded.

“Don't do anything stupid.”

The squeak of the plastic door pulled Tin's attention back to the four men. They were talking in hushed voices by the entrance, but he could hear most of the conversation.

“Trav already told you we aren't killing hostages,” said Ren.

“Ash isn't going to take us seriously until we put a bullet in someone,” Alex said.

Travis spat in the dirt near Alex's boots as another warning. “You already did that.”

“I'm talking about hostages,” Alex replied, his tone more reserved.

Travis shook his head. “Get the captain back on the comm one more time,” he said. “Now that the kid's awake, I have a new offer to make.”

Alex shook his head. “Kill the little shit. Then she'll listen.”

Travis glared at Alex. “Don't make me ask twice.”

Scowling, Alex followed Ren to the comm while Travis and Brad remained at the door to the clean room.

Tin clicked his tongue to get Angelo's attention. When the men weren't looking, he whispered, “I have to get to that gas bladder.”

Angelo gave him a stern look. “No,” he whispered. “Didn't I just say not to do anything stupid?”

“I have to,” Tin said. “The ship's going to crash if I don't.”

Angelo seemed to consider Tin's words. After a pause, he whispered, “You're going to get killed.”

Tin wiggled his wrists again, wincing as the plastic ties cut into his flesh. “Maybe, but if I don't do it,
everybody's
going to die.”

X hugged the snow barriers around the buildings, with Magnolia close on his heels. Flurries swept across the road, blurring his line of sight. According to his sensors, it was negative thirty degrees Fahrenheit.

“Stick right behind me,” he said. “When we get to the end of the street, you're going to work.” He didn't know that he was making the right call, but she was faster than he.

“Roger that,” she replied.

Halfway to the crate, he paused and listened. There it was, faint and blending in with the whistling wind: the distant keening of the Sirens. The creatures were out there, prowling the city for their next meal, and it was only a matter of time before they found X and the other divers.

He waved Magnolia forward and broke into a hunched-over trot, keeping as low as he could. At the intersection, he dropped to one knee and waited, eyes scanning. Searching.

“Okay, you're up, kid. Get to the box and check it for weapons. I'll cover you from here.”

X watched the glow of Magnolia's battery unit as she darted across the street. A few seconds later, her staticky voice crackled over the comm.

“There's a few assault rifles, but it looks like a couple of things are missing … Didn't Command say they were sending us some food and water? Because I'm not seein' any.”

The missing provisions troubled him, but at least they had heavy weapons. They were still in business.

“Do Sirens eat energy bars, X?” Magnolia asked.

“How would I know that?” he replied. “Hold your position, Magnolia. Katrina, Murph, Tony, get down here.”

“On our way,” Tony replied.

X sprinted across the street. Above the noise of the wind whipping his suit, he caught another sound, closer now: the piercing wail of a Siren. As usual, it seemed to come from no particular direction.

“You hear that?” Katrina said over the comm.

“Yeah. Now, hurry up. We need to gear up and get gone.” He swept his blaster over the surrounding terrain. “You see anything, kid?”

She brushed up next to him, her voice barely more than a whisper, “Wh-what are those?”

Magnolia pointed toward a snow flurry drifting across the far end of the street. Within the swirling flakes, wrinkled, leathery shapes swayed from side to side as they approached.

X holstered his blaster and pulled an assault rifle from the crate. Then he grabbed four loaded magazines, stuffing three into his vest pockets and slapping the fourth into the weapon.

“Pick a rifle and load up on ammo!” X shouted.

He aimed at the pack of Sirens, trying to count them in the gusting flurry. A half-dozen approached on all fours, moving slowly through the fierce wind.

“Magnolia!” X shouted. She wasn't moving.

“I'm not good with guns!” she yelled back, panic rising in her voice.

Looking down the rifle sights, X followed the monsters as they clambered across the road and up the sides of the buildings. Some perched on ledges or sills, watching the divers. Others moved in the partial concealment of the swirling snow, waiting for an opportunity to strike. The creatures had always attacked right away in the past, but now they seemed more cautious, as if sizing up their quarry.

“Katrina, Murph, Tony!” X shouted. “Where the hell are you?”

“Here. We're at your five o'clock,” Katrina said. He glanced over his shoulder and saw a flash of movement behind the approaching divers.

“More contacts!” X yelled. “Tony, Murph, Katrina, you got the three o'clock position. Magnolia and I got nine o'clock. Hold your fire until I give the order.”

As the Sirens continued to prowl, X said to Magnolia, “Kid, you need to listen close. I want you to hold the gun snug to your shoulder, but don't grip it super tight. Aim it dead center at one of those things and squeeze the trigger for a short burst. But whatever you do, do
not
shoot one of us. You got it?”

“Okay,” she mumbled. The rifle shook in her hands, and X considered taking it away. Her file said she had failed combat training, but she had done okay on the last dive, and he needed every weapon in this fight.

X took aim. The Sirens were creeping in from all directions, like a vise slowly closing. A snow flurry clouded his vision for a moment. He blinked, refocused, and trained his rifle on a thick-bodied Siren leading a pack of four.

The beast let out a piercing shriek and charged.

“Fire at will!” X shouted. Deactivating his night vision, he used the light from the sky to guide his shots. The first went wide, kicking up a puff of snow. His second hit one of the creatures at the base of its thick neck. It reared its head back, and the painful croak from its wide mouth sounded like an emergency alarm coming through a broken speaker on the
Hive.

The pack fanned out in all directions as the creature collapsed to its knees. A brilliant arc of lightning streaked overhead, and he could see open maws, spiky backs, and taloned hands and feet. Another flash lit the exterior of a building across the street. The structural steel was alive with Sirens.

Mindful of the limited ammunition and the sheer numbers of the enemy, X fired a controlled burst at the pack in front of him. He cut down a second beast with two shots to the chest. It slumped to the ground with one last agonizing shriek.

He took out the other three with single shots. The monsters flopped in the snow, unable to continue their advance. X got the next pack in his sights and knocked down two more.

Over the crack of gunfire, the unearthly wails formed a chorus, and over this came the heavy clap of thunder. A brilliant web of lightning streaked overhead, the tips branching out and licking the tips of skyscrapers. Sparks rained down on the streets as the Sirens continued their assault.

“On me!” X yelled. The other divers came together to form a perimeter, but the five of them wouldn't be able to hold the monsters off for long. Worse, the gunfire seemed to attract even more of them.

He scanned the battlefield as he fired. A spray of blood erupted from a wrinkled neck. A bony head crest puffed into scarlet mist. Three more of the abominations crashed to the ground before his ammunition ran out.

In one continuous motion, X ejected the spent magazine, slapped in a new one, and knelt. He was firing as soon as his knee hit the snow. His next shot punched through a Siren's chest, and it fell dead, tripping the one behind it. As the second beast bounded over the carcass, X shot it in the mouth. He twisted to the right and squeezed the trigger, counting the bullets and watching the bodies pile up. Steam rose from the spilled blood.

Over the cacophony of firing and shrieking, X heard someone yelling.

“Power down!”

X ignored the voice, acquired a new target, and fired again, cursing a blue streak all the while. The voice on the wind wasn't familiar. Was he really hearing it?

The same voice shouted again, “Power your suits down and don't move!”

A bleep on X's minimap pulled his eyes away from the monsters. He turned to see an armored diver running toward them from the north.

Waving frantically, he was still screaming, “Power down!”

X watched the creatures closing in all around them. There was no possibility of holding them all back.

“Power down and don't move!” the man yelled again. “Trust me!”

X pulled the empty magazine and reached for another as the new diver sprinted to them. He pulled the battery unit from his own armor, still yelling, “Power the fuck down!”

X saw no other option. They were dead anyway.

“Do it!” he shouted to his team.

Lowering his rifle, he yanked out his battery. His HUD went dark instantly. A moment later, a brilliant red light streaked across the street. One of the monsters, which had stopped behind the barrier of bodies, burst into flames and lay thrashing in the snow.

A second flare hissed in the opposite direction.

The screeches started to grow fainter. X couldn't believe his ears. They were retreating.

The mysterious newcomer was busy reloading his blaster, and X couldn't see his face behind his visor. With the Sirens on the move, the new diver spoke only one more word: “Run!”

* * * * *

Captain Ash wiped the film of sweat off her forehead. It was a reminder that the bridge, unlike the noncritical areas of the ship, still had heat. Some of the shelters were heated, but there weren't enough for everyone on the ship, so most of the
Hive
's passengers would be huddled together under blankets in their designated safe areas belowdecks. No safety belts to buckle into, and no heat to keep them warm.

At the sound of footsteps, she turned to see Jordan taking the stairs two at a time.

“Does the Militia have a plan that won't result in my entire ship being shot up?” she asked.

“Yes, Captain,” Jordan said. “Sergeant Jenkins radioed in a few minutes ago.”

Ash followed Jordan to his station, where he pulled up a map of the
Hive
on his monitor.

“This is an old access point to the farm,” he said, pointing to a blue line. “Jenkins has equipped a six-man fire team with crossbows. They plan on infiltrating the farm through this vent while the current strike team, positioned in the hallway, approaches the front entrance to the farm. That will keep Travis and his men distracted long enough for Jenkins to take them out.”

Ash leaned closer to the monitor. The old vents were unknown to most of the passengers. Travis would likely never see them coming, but if he did, the entire plan could backfire.

“I don't like it,” she said.

“Captain, with all due respect, you can't let your promise to X about Tin cloud your vision. There are over five hundred other souls counting on us.”

“Five hundred and ten, Lieutenant,” she said. “If you don't count the divers—who, we both know, might die today.” Her voice softened. “Get me Samson.”

Jordan gave a low whistle. Hunt nodded from his station.

Samson emerged onscreen an instant later. His face was camouflaged with grime and grease. “Got any good news for me?”

Ash shook her head. “I was hoping you had some for me.”

“I'm doing all I can, Captain, but the turbofans and existing gas bladders simply can't hold the mass of the ship. Not to mention, I had to divert some power to the rudders. We need that gas bladder. I'm working on two others that I
might
be able to fix, but I don't think we have time.” Samson turned away from the screen as one of his engineers leaned in and whispered in his ear. “You have to be fucking kidding me.”

Ash wasn't sure she could take any more bad news right now. A thought she had stuffed down many times before began to emerge from the depths of her mind: that maybe there was nothing she could do to keep the human race from extinction. No matter how hard she tried to believe that humans could change from their violent past, a man such as Travis would come along and shatter that illusion. She had fought her whole life, first in the Militia and then as captain, to save the people aboard her ship. She had given up everything for them, and now she had chosen to die from cancer rather than leave her post.

And for what?

In the end, it hadn't been a storm that finally brought down the
Hive
. It had been a bullet.

Ash was tired. Tired of fighting gravity, tired of fighting the lower-deckers, tired of fighting the cancer.

Samson turned to face the screen and stood up. “I have another fire to put out. I'll update you when I know more about the gas bladders. Good luck keeping us in the air, Captain.”

Before Ash could reply, the feed sizzled off. She felt Jordan's intense stare as he waited. All the options crossed her mind. In the end, only one made sense, but she would not leave anything to chance. She unbuttoned the top of her collar.

“Tell Jenkins to stand by and wait for me.”

Jordan tilted his head to the side. “Captain?”

“Nope. That's you now, Jordan, until I get back.”

“But—” Jordan began to say, when she cut him off.

“You didn't think I'd sit here and
watch
our fire team raid the farms, did you?”

“Sometimes, I forget you were in the Militia,” he said. The hint of a grin formed on his face, and he threw a salute. “Good luck, Captain.”

Ash returned the salute and ran up the ramp. She burst into her office and hurried over to her armor hanging from the wall. She had kept her gear polished and ready all these years, just in case.

Three minutes later, she was running down the hallway with a two-man armed escort. Her armor didn't fit as it had ten years ago when she was a lieutenant in the Militia. The cancer had cost her several pounds of muscle. It rattled as she moved, but she didn't let it slow her down. Indeed, she picked up the pace when she saw the six-man fire team waiting two corridors away from the farm. Sergeant Jenkins greeted her with a salute. He had been just a kid when she was in the military; now he was one of the highest-ranking soldiers on the ship.

“Captain,” Jenkins said. “You coming in with us?”

She nodded grimly. “If that bastard wants to make demands, he can make them to my face.”

Jenkins handed her a crossbow and a quiver of bolts. The stock felt good in her hands. She had forgotten how powerful it made her feel—one more reason she had done everything she could to keep the crossbows and rifles from ever falling into the wrong hands.

In this, she had failed.

Buckling the quiver at her waist, Ash said, “What are you waiting for? Let's go.”

* * * * *

Weaver stopped at a concrete wall to listen. The faint shrieking was not the lonely cries from the night before—these were sounds of hungry, enraged creatures. The Sirens were searching. Hunting for the divers.

“Who the fuck
are
you?” someone behind him said.

Weaver straightened and offered his hand.