“It’s no one’s fault,” Katrina said. “We’re here because of the Cazadores. All we can do now is avenge him when we get to the Metal Islands.”
“I will avenge him,” Sandy said.
There was anger in her voice. Good. Anger, when managed properly, could be a powerful motivator. At least, that was how Katrina used hers, and she had plenty stored away in the tank.
“He was a good man,” Edgar added. “Ramon and Jed used to run laps in the launch bay. He said Jed was the only one who could beat him in a sprint.”
“I knew his mom,” Eevi said. “She worked as a seamstress. Chances are, everyone here has worn something she made.”
Thunder boomed in the distance, and rain pattered down on the weather deck. The storm was back.
Sandy bent down to the body and tucked a handwritten note inside the sheets. Then she put her hand on Jed’s chest.
“Be at peace,” she said.
Katrina nodded to Alexander and then to Trey, and together, the three of them picked up Jed and carried him to the starboard rail. The cold rain hit them at a slant, and Katrina tucked her exposed face against her chest. None of them were wearing their armor, and now she wished she had at least thrown on a poncho.
Sandy followed them to the rail and helped them lift Jed’s body.
“On three,” Katrina said.
She counted down, and on three, they eased him over the side. All four of them looked down to watch the ocean swallow the body. Bubbles gurgled to the top as the white spot below the surface dimmed and then disappeared.
“Bye, Jed,” Sandy said.
Katrina put a hand on her shoulder again and guided her away from the railing and back into the protection of the cargo bay. Eevi hit the button to close the hatch, and all the other divers but Trey walked with Sandy to the ladder for the upper decks.
He waited for Katrina as the door clanked shut.
“Captain, may I talk to you?” he said.
“Of course, Trey. What’s on your mind?”
He turned to make sure everyone was gone. When the last footfalls faded away, he said, “I’m sorry for letting you down, Captain. Jed’s death is on me, not the Cazadores. That’s why I want permission to take a Zodiac and scout out the Metal Islands before we meet the airships there. We have two days before—”
“No,” Katrina said, cutting him off. “It’s too dangerous, and your old man would kill me.”
Trey stiffened. He stood a good foot taller than she. “Captain, I was actually hoping you would come with me on this recon mission.”
She backed up slightly so she could meet his gaze and confirm that he was serious.
“It would be a great honor for me,” he added.
Katrina had actually considered doing some reconnaissance before the airships arrived, but dismissed the idea as too dangerous.
“I want to surprise the Cazadores when we do show up,” she said, “and getting spotted beforehand is too risky to the overall mission.”
“Ma’am, all due respect, but don’t you think el Pulpo expects us to come? He isn’t stupid, and he’s likely interrogated X and Magnolia, right? He has to know they weren’t out here all on their own.”
She had considered that, too.
Before she could respond, her wrist monitor beeped. She held it up just as a message played over the comms system.
“Captain, please report to the bridge immediately,” Eevi said over the channel. “I’ve picked up something on radar, and it’s heading this way.”
Trey and Katrina looked at each other. He was probably wondering the same thing: Had the Cazadores already spotted them?
ELEVEN
“Take this, and be careful,” Michael said. He lifted the weapon by its curved grip and handed it to Layla.
She exchanged her AK-47, loaded with armor-piercing rounds, for the laser rifle and pressed her helmet shield against his before stepping over to the ladder.
“I’ll look after her, don’t worry,” Les said. He followed her up the metal rungs.
Michael watched from the front of the central structure, standing by a massive steel door warped and pitted from a powerful blast. The concrete walls had collapsed into a mountain of debris that now formed a jumbled apron to the main building.
Rain blew sideways through the translucent hologram standing beside him. Michael couldn’t see Deliverance or hear the whir of the turbofans, but the airship was up there, hovering two thousand feet above Red Sphere and ready to descend at a moment’s notice.
“According to these blueprints, this facility had only three entrances and three exits,” Timothy said, gesturing toward the ruined doors. “This was one of them.”
Michael recalled the blast from the USS Zion that had saved his life and, apparently, destroyed the main access into Red Sphere.
“What’s the other way besides the rooftop?” he asked.
“I’d rather not say, Commander, because it would be highly dangerous. But if you must know, it’s underwater.”
“Well, that’s out,” Michael said. He turned away from the AI and bent down to get his first look at one of the defectors.
The humanoid machine was buried under the mountain of concrete rubble and steel. The “skull” was crushed, and half the chest and torso were also flattened, but an undamaged arm stuck out of the pile, metal fingers reaching toward the sky.
Under the chunks of rock, he glimpsed a laser rifle.
“Oh, hell yes!” he murmured, slinging his rifle across his back. He got down and began pulling away rocks until it was free. Then, holding his new laser rifle, he stood and walked back a few steps to get a better look at the rooftop.
Layla and Les were nearing the top now, but that ladder was in bad shape. Several rusted rungs didn’t look as if they could support much weight without snapping like a calorie-infused herb stick.
“Be careful, Layla,” Michael said over the comms. “Three points of contact at all times.”
She looked down. “You found a laser rifle?”
“Yeah. It was buried, but it looks operational.” His breath caught when she stepped through a decaying rung and fell down a step. Les reached up with a long arm and grabbed her ankle.
“I’m good,” she said.
The two divers kept moving, and Michael let out the air in his lungs, clouding his visor. When it cleared, Layla had reached the top of the ladder. She swung her legs over a parapet wall and brought up the laser rifle.
Les followed suit, and both divers disappeared from view.
“See anything?” Michael asked over the comms.
He heard crackling, then a reply from Layla. “All clear up here. We’re headed toward the hatch.”
Michael went back to scanning the piers for contacts. The ship where Erin died was docked to the left. More debris littered the pier. Erin’s blood had long since washed away in the rain and the surf that pounded the edges of the docks.
Michael blinked at the view, remembering the young diver’s courage. She had saved him that day by laying down supporting fire, paying for his life with hers.
Standing there, waiting, Michael realized how lucky he was to be here, even without his arm. So many divers had perished over the years, trying to keep the airships in the sky, and now he just might have a chance to see something none of them had ever seen: habitable land.
He brought the laser rifle up in his left hand, as ready to fight as a one-armed diver could be. It wasn’t just the killer robots that had him on edge. Sea monsters lived in those cold, dark depths.
Holding the weapon one-handed, he felt its weight. Within a few minutes, his arm was shaking. But it was the phantom pain that finally made him sling the laser rifle and grab the stump under his shoulder pad.