“Get going,” Rhino said, shoving Rodger.
“Hey, easy!” Rodger protested.
“Where are you taking us?” X asked.
“You’ll find out soon enough,” replied Rhino.
As they descended the stairs, X scanned the skyline. Where the hell was Katrina? Surely, they would be on their way now, so what were they waiting for? He was starting to wonder whether they were even going to come.
Of course they’ll come. As far as we know, this is the only habitable place in the world.
Michael and the others would be here. The question was not whether but when. Until then, he would just keep trying to survive. But he wasn’t sure how many more Hammerheads he could take on.
One thing was for certain: he wasn’t immortal, just very lucky. Having a high pain tolerance also helped.
Rodger, on the other hand, could hardly handle a slap on the back. He bitched and moaned behind X, grumbling about this and that.
“I told you to do as they say, X,” he said. “It’s easier on all of us if you do.”
A whistling came from the banquet room, where el Pulpo stood at one of the windows. He blew into the white shell necklace.
The two guards ahead suddenly moved to the outer rail of the staircase to look over at the water.
Rhino remained behind X and Rodger, watching both Hell Divers closely.
“What’s going on?” Rodger asked.
“The Octopus Lords have come for their offering,” Rhino said.
“Holy shit!” Rodger gasped. “Those things are real?”
Spotlights from different platforms on the tower were pointed down to where Hammerhead’s corpse hung by the rope, half in and half out of the water.
The whistling continued as el Pulpo blew into his necklace. He lowered it a moment later as the beams picked up motion beneath the calm ocean.
All at once, several arms lined with suction cups broke through the water, wrapping around Hammerhead’s mutilated corpse. A soldier cut the rope and dropped it to the water as the beast pulled its meal into the depths. Bubbles floated to the surface and then calmed.
“Holy shit,” X murmured.
“The whistle from hell,” Rodger said. “They worship the octopuses like they’re gods.”
X laughed at the notion. “Pretty half-assed gods. I killed one on the way here.”
Rhino narrowed his eyes and reached for the hilt of his sword. “Blasphemy!”
X heard anger in the man’s words and backed up a step. “Just kidding. But I did kill a shark. You guys don’t worship those…” He cringed, remembering the tattoo on the dead gladiator’s chest.
These guys worshipped all sorts of monsters, it seemed.
Rhino kept his hand on the sword hilt. “Move.”
“Okay, okay,” Rodger said.
He walked in front of X, taking the lead down the winding stairway, and X got his first glance at the docks below—the same ones he had passed when he docked the WaveRunner and sneaked into the tower.
This time, dozens of boats were moored there. Dockhands in shorts and sandals loaded boxes and crates into the vessels. They were going somewhere.
He wanted to scream. Without that hoard of ITC-preserved gasoline, el Pulpo would be running a ragtag little band of foragers, doing whatever they could to scrape by. He never would have enslaved X, Rodger, and Magnolia.
But then, X never would have found his way to the Metal Isles and, just maybe, a home for his people.
Not that such a gift would stop him from killing the bastard.
When they reached the bottom of the stairs, X stopped and turned to Rhino.
“I’m not leaving without my dog and Magnolia.”
The warrior pulled the long, curved sword from its sheath and raised it above his head. “You will go where you’re told, or I’ll prove to all these sheep that you aren’t immortal… by slicing you in two.”
The blade glistened in the moonlight. Despite the threat, X took a step closer. He came up only to Rhino’s jawline, and he had to look up to meet the warrior’s gaze. The hoop between Rhino’s nostrils quivered with a loud snort.
“Don’t fucking try me,” Rhino said. “I could have ripped Hammerhead’s heart out in half the time it took you two idiots to kill him.”
“I want to see my dog and Magnolia,” X said. “If we’re going somewhere else, I want to say goodbye.”
“You just saw them when you failed—again—to follow el Pulpo’s orders.”
X grunted. “You don’t get it. I’m not a Cazador and never will be.”
“I said the same thing once. Look at me now. You can have a good life here if you obey.”
X noted a certain hesitation in his voice—just the slightest pause, but there it was.
X said, “You’re not like the others, I can see that. So why do you serve them?”
“Because, like you, I have no choice. And, unlike you, I have come to grips with that fact.”
X took a step backward. He couldn’t get a read on this guy. Was he a servant? A loyal soldier? Or maybe something else?
“Your dog and Magnolia will be fine as long as you do as you’re told,” Rhino said. “Now, keep moving and follow me. The ship sails soon.”
He waited for X to back away before resheathing his sword. Some of the dockhands looked up from their work as X and Rodger continued across the piers. Soldiers patrolled the area, holding spears and rifles along the water’s edge.
Hearing a cranking noise behind them, X looked over his shoulder and up the side of the tower, to where the elevator descended from the upper decks. The glow from a torch illuminated a man wearing a brown robe.
As soon as the gate opened, Imulah hurried toward X and Rodger, but Rhino kept walking. He didn’t stop until they got to the boats.
Two Cazador soldiers holding submachine guns stood by the stern. Another three worked on a large engine. Rhino spoke to them all and then motioned for X and Rodger.
“Get in,” he said.
Rodger balked. “Where are we going?”
“Wait!” Imulah called out.
“What now, old man?” Rhino said.
Imulah stopped, panting. He held up the torch and looked from X to Rodger.
“El Pulpo wants this one to stay. He said he can’t fight and is a liability to the mission.”
“I can, too, fight,” Rodger said.
“Good, keep him,” X said. Wherever this boat was going, it was better that he travel alone. El Pulpo was actually right about Rodger being a liability.
“It’s okay, Rodge,” X said. “Go with Imulah. Look after Magnolia and Miles. Okay?”
Rodger thought on it a moment and then nodded.
X reached out his hand. “I’m sorry I left you on that ship in Florida. I swear on Miles I thought you were dead.”
“It’s okay.” Rodger shook his hand. “I know you tried to save me, but this time you need to worry about saving yourself, Xavier. Do what they tell you. Survive. Rhino is right about obeying.”
X narrowed his eyes at a man who had accepted his fate as a slave. He didn’t exactly blame Rodger or like him any less, but slavery wasn’t for X. After all he had been through, he couldn’t bring himself to follow another’s orders.
Rhino climbed into the boat, and X got in after him. The mechanics finished working on the engines. One of them gave a nod to Rhino, who gave orders to the Cazador soldier standing at the helm.
The engine grumbled to life, and as soon as the mooring lines were free, the pilot peeled away from the dock, kicking up a wake. Several other boats followed, laden with supplies.
X sat on a crate and watched the wake snaking back to the piers and the tower. The elevator was already rising back up the tower, the glow of the torch illuminating the faces of Rodger and Imulah inside.