Lightning flashed in the west, the direction they both were headed. He checked the HUD again. The drop zone was big but not boundless. If they drifted too far off, they could easily hit the edge of the storm.
But what could he do?
He couldn’t reach them—he was already five hundred feet below both their positions.
Edgar and Alexander kept on the plotted course. It was the contingency plan should something like this happen. They couldn’t risk the entire team trying to save one diver.
Michael quivered with rage. Arlo’s stupid hotdogging was the reason for Sofia’s off-kilter flight.
At three thousand feet, the blasted ancient city came into view. Shattered buildings and bridges and towering granite domes filled his vision. Mutant forests covered much of the landscape, hiding God only knew what kinds of fearsome creatures.
Michael checked one last time to see Sofia in a stable fall. The sight was a relief, but they weren’t out of this yet. The two rookies were way off course. Once they landed, he would have to trek over and find them.
At two thousand feet, he pulled the pilot chute from its pocket on his right thigh. It caught air and dragged out the canopy, which billowed overhead, jerking him vertical. Reaching up, he grabbed both toggles and steered over a spire of rock. At its summit stood a colossal statue of an angel or a god, holding its arms out over the city. Gliding over, he saw that one of the arms had partially broken off, and a hunk of the head was missing.
He looked away, sailing toward the city and the shoreline beyond. Waves crashed against the eroded seawall surrounding the bay. He searched for the Sea Wolf but couldn’t spot such a small vessel in all that ocean vastness.
According to his HUD, the DZ was right below him, but that couldn’t be right. The ground below was a sinkhole, its depths glowing red like the eye of a defector.
He toggled right, and both Edgar and Alexander followed his lead. The three divers aimed for the rim of the hole, where several buildings formed a skirt of debris. Vines and bristly, leafless trees grew out of the rubble.
As Michael started to flare, he saw something moving on the surface near the scree apron, walking on two legs. He caught only a glimpse, but this didn’t look like a Siren or a monster, and it was not a machine.
It looked like a naked human.
NINETEEN
Magnolia hated not being in radio contact with Team Raptor. By now they would have landed on the surface and would be trekking toward the rendezvous point.
The Sea Wolf wasn’t even to shore yet.
When they made land, they would need to hide the boat and then find a way up the cliffs and into the city. Splitting up wasn’t always a good idea, but this time it made sense. It improved their ability to discover threats, and the teams could back each other up if one was ambushed.
Although she did wish Sofia were here. With just Rodger and herself among ten Cazadores, she was feeling a little outnumbered.
Team Raptor needs her more than you do.
Magnolia and Rodger shared the boat’s cockpit with two Cazador men she had to start trusting if they all were going to survive. General Santiago and Lieutenant Alejo sat to her right, on the other side of Rodger, who was watching the radar and sonar stations.
Somehow, Alejo managed to hold the map steady as the twin hulls pounded over the waves. He studied the chart while General Santiago spoke rapidly. There was anger in his tone, and Magnolia finally glanced over.
“What now?” she said.
Alejo looked up from his map. “He says this piece of shit is going to get us killed.”
“This piece of shit saved our lives and got us across the ocean to the Vanguard Islands,” Magnolia said.
Alejo translated for Santiago. The old general regarded her for a moment and then snorted.
“You’re lucky we’re giving you a ride,” Magnolia said, instantly regretting her words.
“Let’s hope there aren’t any whales out here,” Rodger said.
Alejo glared at Magnolia but did not translate her words to the general.
“Whales, sharks, octopuses, sea serpents, or anything else big enough to eat us,” Rodger added. “Maybe these waters are free of monsters, or maybe they’re all vegetarians and live on seaweed.”
Magnolia laughed. They all knew the truth: that any animal bigger than they were probably wanted to eat them.
Beneath the waves dwelled beasts large enough to swallow the Sea Wolf without even chewing. She just hoped the boat could avoid detection. Sometimes, smaller was better, especially when you were trying to be sneaky.
She adjusted their bearing two points to westward. They weren’t far from shore now—what was left of it. Most of the coastline was gone. The tsunami that hit centuries ago had swept away all the lovely beaches in the old archival photos.
Cliffs rose above the rocky shore, and the sporadic lightning revealed the skeletal frames of high-rise buildings. The city was one of the biggest she had ever seen, and for the first time today she felt a raw stab of fear.
“Where are we going to park this rig?” Rodger asked.
“Any ideas?” Magnolia said to Alejo.
He looked at his map for several moments. Then he checked their location on the dashboard. Finally, he pointed east, and she followed his finger toward what looked like an inlet.
“I think that is the spot.”
“What spot?” she asked.
“Where our expedition landed many years ago. Assuming my map is correct, there is a port there.”
“The expedition that never came back?” Magnolia asked.
“Sí,” Alejo replied.
“Yeah, no way. I think we should find a different place to dock.”
“Do you see a different place to dock?” Alejo asked. “The only port out there is east.”
“I’m with Mags,” Rodger said. “Your idea just got a rousing no-thanks.”
Magnolia swung the boat due west.
“What are you doing?” Alejo protested.
“The opposite of what you tell me, because I plan on surviving this mission, unlike your comrades. And because this is my boat. So, sit that ass down and shut up if you’re not going to be helpful.”
Rodger laughed, but his voice trailed off when Alejo glared at him.
“Easy there, buddy,” Rodger said.
Santiago looked from his lieutenant to the two divers, clearly sensing the tension.
Magnolia took one hand nonchalantly off the wheel and let it hang inches away from one of the two pistols holstered on her duty belt. She could always use one of her curved blades or her new blaster if the Cazador lieutenant got terminally stupid.
Should have kept your mouth shut, she thought.
She had been telling herself that for years but never seemed to find her filter.
Fortunately, Alejo backed down, perhaps deciding that reacting to her mouth wasn’t worth the risk of angering General Santiago.
A chirp on the sonar kept Magnolia from relaxing.
“Rodger, check that out,” she said.
“Coming from the northeast,” he said. “Not sure what it is, but it’s big. Like shark big.”
Magnolia looked right, the same direction that Alejo had told her to go earlier.
She kept her westward bearing and pushed the throttle forward, speeding in a diagonal line toward the coast.
“Tell your men on deck to get ready,” she said, “just in case whatever that is decides to try us.”
Alejo put on his helmet and moved outside, where eight Cazadores watched the sea. One was on the mounted harpoon gun, and two others manned a machine gun they had installed. If something out there wanted them, they would at least have a shot at killing it first.