She took a sip of water and got up from the chair. Sitting around promoted boredom, and boredom made her want to do things she might later regret.
Pulling her sun hat down, she walked toward the rail overlooking the ocean. One of the women sat up and glared at her, baring her sharp teeth like a wild animal as Magnolia passed by. She was Alicia, the oldest of el Pulpo’s wives, the woman who had taunted her at the banquet several nights ago.
Magnolia returned the smile and kept walking toward the railing. Gray clouds crossed the horizon, their bellies full of rain. For the first time since she arrived at the Metal Islands, she hoped one of them would block out the sun for a while.
She gripped the steel pipe balustrade and looked down at the docks below. A group of men in jackets and matching trousers were there, overseeing a shipment of crates being unloaded from several boats. She still didn’t know exactly what they did, but they seemed to be some sort of clerks, helping run a complex barter economy based on currency of tobacco and wine.
Magnolia leaned back against the parapet railing and looked up. Colorful paintings covered the exterior walls that had been built onto the ancient oil rig. They were far more beautiful and sophisticated than those on the Hive.
“They didn’t make those, you know,” said a voice.
Sofia stepped up to the rail, taking a drink of her wine and then offering it to Magnolia, who decided to accept it out of courtesy. After a decorous sip, she handed the goblet back.
“What do you mean?” Magnolia asked.
“The only one el Pulpo has ever ordered is that one.” Sofia turned and looked at the metal octopus sculpture bolted over the empty throne.
Magnolia thought of Captain Jordan. It seemed that human monsters had a way of rising to power, even in a paradise like this.
“Those paintings were made by people before us,” Sofia added, looking out at the sparkling sea.
“Before us?” Magnolia asked.
“Things weren’t always like this,” Sofia whispered. “They weren’t ever peaceful, but they weren’t this bad until el Pulpo came to power. After being captured at birth, he rose through the ranks to become the most ruthless and feared warrior of the Cazador army.”
“And?”
“To get to where he is now, he went on a rampage, killing the general of the army and all the loyal lieutenants, until no one was left who dared to challenge him.”
This, too, reminded Magnolia of Captain Jordan.
Sofia glanced over her shoulder again, as if fearful of eavesdroppers. Satisfied the guards couldn’t hear her, she said, “Once he had control, he started a campaign to find remaining bunkers and survivors on the surface, to help fill the ranks of his armies and build this empire.”
“We always looked for survivors but never found any,” Magnolia said. “I don’t understand—”
“There aren’t many left. That’s what el Pulpo realized when he set out in the ships and used the lighthouses to try and find survivors. Instead, his ships mostly came home loaded with the deformed beasts.”
Magnolia shuddered, thinking of the Sirens in Florida. She still couldn’t believe these people ate the monsters, but then, they had a lot of traditions that made little sense.
“That’s why el Pulpo turned to cannibalism,” Sofia said, sipping her wine. “It was the only way to feed his army. There wasn’t enough protein from what we grew, so he started feeding his men… other men.”
Magnolia didn’t want to believe what she was hearing, but it wasn’t all that great a shock. The potential for cannibalism had been a genuine concern on the Hive for many years.
She turned to look up at the tower wall—a welcome distraction from the grisly topic. The mural showed a large white ship with hundreds of windows and balconies. In the archived magazines of the Old World, such vessels were known as cruise ships. Had one of them survived the apocalypse and come here?
“Who was here before el Pulpo?” Magnolia asked.
“The people who worked on the oil rigs. Then came boats that fled the devastation of the war. I’m not really sure, honestly. Most of the history has been lost over the years.”
“And you? Where were you born?”
Sofia’s expression grew sad. “In an ITC bunker, in a place called Texas. There were thirty of us then, but only a few of us are still alive.”
“I’m sorry.”
She gave a shrug of resignation. “This life is hard, but it’s better than living underground. I don’t know what it was like in the sky, but I’m guessing it wasn’t as good as this.” She looked at the deck as if she didn’t want to finish the thought.
“I wasn’t a slave up there, and you weren’t one underground. And I’m guessing you weren’t beaten or raped there.”
“No, but we didn’t have this, either,” Sofia said. She raised the glass. “It helps numb the pain.”
With that, she took another drink and walked away, leaving Magnolia to contemplate the past and her future.
Katrina counted her blessings. The Cazadores hadn’t spotted their stealth ship. She had steered the USS Zion around the north side of the island and tucked it into a bay to hide.
Standing in the crow’s nest, she used her night-vision binoculars to watch the two vessels. One was a long container ship, the other a fishing boat with an octopus symbol painted on the side, leaving no doubt in her mind that it, too, was part of el Pulpo’s fleet.
She felt a shiver even though the air was warm. Never in her life had she beheld another human being who did not live on the airships. These were the first surface dwellers she had seen, but instead of wanting to embrace them and ask them questions, she could think of one thing only: killing them.
Moving the binos, she dialed in the fishing boat on the ship’s starboard flank. The sails were down, and they were using engines to plow through the sloppy seas. Several people moved on the deck, but none wore armor or carried weapons. These men appeared to be fishermen and nothing more, hauling in a net from the water. It was a reminder that the Cazadores weren’t all soldiers.
But they’re cannibals.
“What do you see?” Trey asked.
“Two Cazador vessels,” she replied, handing the binos back to him. Alexander stood to her left, squinting into the darkness.
“I don’t think they spotted us,” Katrina said. “At least, not yet. I’m going to pull us back farther around the island.”
“But this is our chance, ma’am,” Trey said.
Alexander brushed a curtain of wavy hair out of his face. “Chance for what?”
“To capture the ships and add them to our fleet,” Trey said excitedly. “Think about it, Captain. If we can take it over, we could dress in their gear and surprise the Cazadores completely when we get to the Metal Islands.”
“What if they have radios?” Katrina said. “None of us can speak in their tongue.”
Trey shrugged. “So we go dark and don’t respond to any transmissions.”
Katrina smiled at his enthusiasm. “You know what you sound like?”
Trey shook his head.
“You sound like a younger version of me.”
Trey grinned.
“We don’t know how many Cazadores are on board,” Alexander said. “They could outnumber us ten to one, or even more. And if we do capture them and they send an SOS, we’re screwed.”
Katrina took the binos from Alexander and focused them on the main ship. Several figures patrolled the deck, where containers were stacked three high.
She could only guess at their contents, but she had a feeling it was loot worth taking. Several armed and armored guards patrolled the deck.