Hell Divers (30 page)

No. We still have time.

Holding in a breath, he lined up the sights and fired into the creature's torso, knocking it off course and sending it spiraling out of control. He pulled the trigger again, but the gun wouldn't fire.

X reached for his final magazine just as a crosswind knocked the rifle from his hands. He watched helplessly as it disappeared into the clouds. All he had left now was his knife. If the Sirens returned, he would have no choice but to use the blade.

He searched the darkness for any sign of them. His vision was tinted red, the field growing narrower, the images dimmer.

Almost there
.
Almost home.

He pressed against the wound on his belly and groaned at the stab of pain. Ascending higher, he drifted closer to unconsciousness. He fought it, but this wasn't a foe to be vanquished with grit and a tactical knife.

Lightning shot across the clouds to the west, and ten seconds later, he heard the dull roll of thunder. X had drifted to the east, his balloon pulling him away from the storm.

He grabbed his toggles and focused on the flashes. Watching them helped him concentrate, kept him barely present. Despite his injuries, he began to relax. There was something serene about the darkness. He imagined that it was a lot like death: infinite and everlasting.

As he coasted away from the storm, his HUD solidified. He was at ten thousand feet now.

Were the Sirens still searching for him?

He listened for their high-pitched shrieks but heard only wind and the echoes of thunder.

X closed his eyes, he wasn't sure for how long—maybe just a moment, maybe much longer. But when he opened them again, the brightest, most beautiful light he had ever seen flooded his vision.

A carpet of yellow stretched across the horizon. White, fluffy clouds drifted across an ocean of blue. And there to the east was a black speck that might just be the
Hive
. Above it all, sat a flaming ball so bright, it hurt his eyes. He had seen the sun only a handful of times in his life, and never so clearly as this.

X squinted into the sunlight, shielding his visor with a shaky, bloody hand. Could it be? Could he really have made it back?

He shifted his gaze back to the tiny black sphere and bumped his comm pad. “This is Commander Xavier Rodriguez …” He broke into a cough, then sucked in deep gasps to control his breathing. Stars floated before his vision, encroaching on the beautiful view. “Does anyone copy? Over.”

Static rushed out of the speakers in his helmet. He blinked away the fuzz and watched the only home he had ever known fly slowly away. He pleaded that someone would hear him and come back for him. Several minutes passed, and he tried again.

“This is Commander X. If anyone can hear me, I'm drifting east with eyes on the
Hive
. Anyone copy? Over.”

White noised crackled in his ear.

The
Hive
continued gliding through the blue, carrying its precious cargo to safety. X felt his lips curl into a smile. They had made it. Captain Ash was steering the ship away from Hades, leaving the death and despair behind while his balloon pulled him toward the sun.

X let out a sigh and searched his vest pocket for the fortune Tin had given him. He pulled it and read it in the sunlight.

“Handle your present with confidence. Face your future without fear,” X said. Tin had taught him what it meant to live again, and even more importantly, what it meant to be courageous. In the end, it was with the boy's help that X had fulfilled his promise to Aaron. It didn't matter that X wouldn't be there to see the boy grow up; he'd given Tin the chance
to
grow up.

He let the wind take the piece of paper from his fingers and watched it swirl away.
Ares
was gone, but the
Hive
was still flying. Maybe Captain Ash really would find a place to land someday—a place where the survivors of the human race could finally start over. The fate of humankind was now in the capable hands of others. He had done all he could. He didn't need to fight anymore. His battle was finally over. X loosened his grip on the toggles and let the balloon pull him into the warmth of the sun.

It's always hard for me to write this section for fear of leaving someone out. My books would not be worth reading if I didn't have the overwhelming support of my family, friends, and readers.

As many of these people know, far more than writing goes into creating a book. The time it takes to edit, format, print, and market a book can take just as long as the actual writing. For that reason, I'm grateful for my new publisher, Blackstone. They believed in my Extinction Cycle books enough to take a chance on
Hell Divers
. Working with their staff has been wonderful. It's been refreshing to see a traditional publisher thinking outside the box and taking risks. They spent countless hours on editing and marketing
Hell Divers
. Without them, this book would not be what it is.

A special thanks also goes to David Fugate, my agent, who provided valuable feedback throughout the many drafts. I'm lucky and grateful to have his support and guidance.

I would be remiss if I didn't also thank the people for whom I write: the readers. I've been blessed to have my work read in countries around the world by wonderful people I will probably never meet. If you are reading this, know that I truly appreciate you for trying my stories.

To my family, friends, and everyone else that has supported me on this journey, I thank you.

Nicholas Sansbury Smith is the bestselling author of the Orbs and Extinction Cycle series. He worked for Iowa Homeland Security and Emergency Management in disaster mitigation before switching careers to focus on his one true passion—writing. A three-time Kindle All-Star, several of Smith's titles have reached the top 50 on the overall Kindle bestseller list and as high as #1 in the Audible store. When he isn't writing or daydreaming about the apocalypse, he's training for triathlons or traveling the world. He lives in Des Moines, Iowa, with his dog and a house full of books.

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Dear Reader,
Thank you for reading Hell Divers! I hope you enjoyed it. If you would take a few minutes to leave a review, I would be very grateful. The success of a book isn't just measured by sales—it's measured by the quality and quantity of the reviews. Reviews don't just help others decide whether to spend their quality time and money on a book—as an author, they help me improve my work. I take reader feedback very seriously, as it helps me put out better and more enjoyable books. If you do write a review, please email me at
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so I can thank you personally.