“You got my weapons, too?” X asked.
Rhino laughed again, more lightly this time. “You think we’re giving you guns so you can shoot us in the back?”
He moved over to a bulkhead with a rack of spears, swords, knives, and the electrical prods that X had seen back in Florida.
Rhino lifted a spear shaft off the rack and broke it in half as if it were an herb stick. He tossed the short shaft to X.
“Just in case you feel like stabbing any of us in the back,” Rhino said. “This way you will have to get very close.”
“If I stab you, it’ll be through the eye, like I did el Pulpo,” X said.
Rhino’s pierced nose flared. He lifted a sword off the rack, but instead of splitting X’s skull with it, he twirled the blade and looked down it to check the edge.
“This should do,” he said. “It’s a solid blade and will split flesh and bone if wielded properly.”
X reached out with his other hand and took the weapon. Rhino tossed him a leather sheath with a strap that he slung over his shoulder.
The other three soldiers, all fully dressed now, turned their helmets toward him, hands on the grips of their carbines. Wendig angled the barrel of a rifle at the deck, not far from X.
“Watch it there, fella,” X said.
Rhino put his helmet on and grabbed his small round shield. An engraving of a long ray-finned fish with gaping jaws and fang-like teeth was engraved in the center.
The other men had the same fish etched into their armor. It had to be some sort of team symbol, like Raptor.
Rhino threw the shield over his shoulder, grabbed a double-bladed spear, and ducked out of the room. The other three soldiers fell in line behind X.
They walked up a ladder to another level, then took a second ladder to an open hatch. Black skies had replaced the bright sun, and X looked out at a sight he had known his entire life.
Lightning pierced the darkness as he climbed out onto the weather deck. Part of him felt that he deserved this, that the sunshine wasn’t supposed to last. He had broken too many promises over the years and failed to save too many people he loved.
He let out a sigh and prepared to do what he did best: fight.
Lieutenant Rhino walked toward a maze of large rectangular crates that blocked the view over the starboard and port sides. A command center rose above the boxes in the center of the ship. Through its filthy windows, X saw the pilot and several other men. Above the bow rose enclosed turrets, manned by Cazador soldiers with flamethrowers and harpoon guns, scanning for hostiles.
In the respite between thunderclaps, X heard the clank of armor, the thud of boots on the deck, and the crash of waves against the bow. He checked his wrist computer and thumbed the monitor. It showed a 51 percent battery level.
Next, he checked his HUD. The temperature was a balmy eighty-five degrees, and radiation levels were in the yellow zone. Luckily, his suit was sealed and all systems appeared to be working.
Raised voices sounded as they entered an open space on deck.
Around the next crate, X saw the source. Standing on the bow between rows of empty cages were a hundred Cazador soldiers, all of them armored and heavily armed. One man held a Minigun with an ammunition belt feeding from a backpack that also had an axe hanging from the side. His armored gloves were fitted with brass knuckles. Another man carried a flamethrower with a tank of fuel on his back.
Behind them, X saw the battlefield: an old-world city, tucked against a sheltered bay. Buildings, including some just shy of what his people would call a scraper, rose toward the storm clouds. Lightning illuminated the ruined structures and the shapes cutting through the sky overhead.
Were these vultures, like those he had seen in the Turks and Caicos Islands? Or something more familiar?
Rhino gestured for X to join him at the helm in front of the small army of soldiers. X did as ordered and stood by the lieutenant’s side. The man carrying a flamethrower and the one with the Minigun stepped up to flank Rhino and X.
Every helmet seemed to focus on the blue glow of his battery unit.
Rhino held up both hands and yelled in Spanish.
He repeated the message in English and then another language that X didn’t recognize, and the Cazador warriors beat their fists against their chest armor.
“Today we embark on a great hunt of the deformed ones, the first in many months. We will bring our trophies back to the Metal Islands, where their flesh will continue to bring our people great strength.”
What a great fucking honor.
Over the mechanical din came the unmistakable electronic wail of a beast that had hunted X all his years on the surface. The male Sirens screeched as they took to the sky, their leathery wings beating the air.
“Those who take the most trophies will bring home the bounty when we return to the Metal Islands,” Rhino continued. “This time, el Pulpo is offering his oldest wife to the winner, to make way for his new bride.”
The soldiers went wild at the offer, and Rhino looked over at X. “The king has only so much room, and he’s got to clear some for his new bride, the sky queen.”
X glared through his visor at Rhino but didn’t take the bait. When he didn’t reply, Rhino added, “Maybe you will win his old wife, Immortal.”
“Or maybe you will die and be eaten and shat out by the deformed ones,” said the man with the flamethrower.
The soldier with the Minigun heaved a laugh that crackled from his breathing apparatus.
X couldn’t see their faces behind the almond-shaped mirror lenses, but he had a feeling they both looked a good deal uglier underneath the helmets. One thing was certain, they didn’t lack for protein in their diets. Both men were giants, almost the size of Rhino.
Maybe that was what you got when you ate humans.
The laughter died down, and Rhino turned to his small army. He raised his hands in the air and, in his booming voice, yelled, “Go! Take your trophies!”
The roar that followed seemed to shake the deck of the ship. Several sailors, dressed in military green, tossed ropes down to the water, where rowboats had already been lowered.
X remained standing beside Rhino while the grunt soldiers moved to the starboard side, eager to begin the hunt.
It was hard for X to imagine men being excited to hunt the beasts that had hunted, terrorized, and killed so many Hell Divers over the years.
He looked up at their prey, soaring over the city, screaming in their electronic discords as they searched for prey of their own.
A light flashed on the horizon, illuminating a silo-shaped building on the coastline. The Sirens changed course, flapping toward what looked like a lighthouse. The Cazadores had activated the beacon.
The hunt was on.
In these wastes, the monsters were no longer the hunters. The humans were, and X was about to see why they called themselves the Cazadores.
“We are above our target,” announced Timothy Pepper. The hologram stood at the helm of the bridge on Deliverance, hands at his sides. “Skies are clear of any major disturbances, sir.”
“Good. Hold us steady,” Michael said.
“Aye, aye, sir.”
Les checked the porthole windows. Storm clouds swelled across the horizon, but the lightning looked sporadic, and Deliverance’s advanced sensors detected a friendly drop zone, according to the AI.
“You’re sure, Timothy?” Les asked. “Last time we were here, this was a sea of lightning.”
“The storm has weakened and moved westward, according to these readings,” Timothy said. “But I will perform several more scans before I lower us over the target.”