Did you see that, you repulsive lump of Siren scat?
El Pulpo picked up his goblet. Chugging down the remaining wine, he slammed the glass on the table and continued watching her. This time, Magnolia followed Imulah’s advice, hoping it would make her rape by the cannibal king less awful.
Sofia was right about the wine: it did help numb the senses.
“I’ll be back with his final course in a moment,” Imulah said. He left them at the table and made his way belowdecks.
“¿Estás enferma?” el Pulpo said.
Magnolia glanced across the table and was surprised to see his features soften. She wasn’t sure what he was trying to say, but he almost seemed concerned for her welfare.
She wasn’t buying it.
“¿Estás enferma?” he asked again, patting his belly.
She shook her head, not understanding.
A few minutes later, the scribe returned carrying a tray with a covered dish. He placed it in front of el Pulpo, who plucked the lid off a plate full of slimy fish eyes. They all seemed to be staring at Magnolia.
“You sure you don’t want some?” Imulah asked. “It’s a delicacy.”
Magnolia forced herself to look away as el Pulpo slurped one down without chewing. He continued popping eyeballs into his mouth as if they were candy jam from the Hive, while she sat and waited, her guts cramping with anxiety.
The minutes ticked by, drawing her ever closer to the dreaded consummation of her “marriage” to the cannibal king.
The rumble of a boat motor snapped her out of her doom-ridden thoughts. She twisted in her chair as the soldiers moved away from the railing back to the stern. The beams of two WaveRunners flickered over the water as they sped toward the armada of small craft.
The lights hit the Sea Wolf, and both soldiers leveled their weapons. El Pulpo grunted, clearly not happy about being interrupted just before taking his bride belowdecks.
She eyed the fork beside her plate and once again considered driving it through his remaining eye, deep into that demented brain.
The two WaveRunners slowed, and the soldiers guarding the king relaxed when they saw it was just more Cazadores. They slung their rifles and threw ropes to the riders.
Both men got off their WaveRunners and jumped onto the landing pad, where they raised goggles from their filthy faces and boarded the Sea Wolf. El Pulpo belched and walked over, his arms folded across his muscular chest.
“¿Qué pasa?” he asked.
They spoke fast in Spanish, making it impossible for Magnolia to make out any of the words except one: “Inmortal.”
Whatever they said next made El Pulpo furious. He pulled his knife from the sheath on his belt and threw it across the boat, sinking it deep into the cabin behind Magnolia.
He turned back to her, giving her the elevator eye. Then he snorted and pushed one of the soldiers out of the way. The man fell onto the deck as his lord stepped to the landing and jumped onto one of the WaveRunners.
The driver of the speedboat started his engines. One of the Cazador soldiers from the Sea Wolf jumped on, and the other man returned to his WaveRunner.
The third soldier remained standing next to Imulah, both of them looking at Magnolia. She watched as the vessels sped away after el Pulpo.
Delighted though she was at the reprieve, she couldn’t help wondering what was so urgent that he would leave her and the fish eyes he so loved.
“What’s going on?” she asked.
The scribe walked over to the table but didn’t take a seat. He picked up a large eyeball and chewed it slowly before spitting out the hard round lens, which bounced like a marble on the deck.
“Two of our vessels have gone missing,” he said. “It could have been a storm, but there was no SOS. They just went dark.”
“What about X? They mentioned him, I think.”
Imulah stroked his beard. “You are starting to pick up our language, I see.”
“Tell me what el Pulpo said.” Magnolia paused, then added, “Please.”
“The Cazador warriors have finished their hunt, but apparently the Barracudas haven’t returned. The Immortal was with that team.”
The scribe took another fish eye and gestured toward the hatch with it still in his hand. “Since you’re not feeling well, you can go lie down belowdecks to rest. I’m not sure when our lord will be back.”
She looked out over the waves, the guilt of her complacency eating her insides. Timothy was gone now, and whether or not he had been able to communicate with the airships before, he certainly couldn’t share any intel now. On top of that, X was out there fighting, or possibly even dead, and she had all but given up her own fight.
No more, she thought. When he gets back—and he will come back—I will fight for humanity. I will fight for our people.
SIXTEEN
An ethereal shriek pierced the night. X waited for a gunshot to follow, but he hadn’t heard any for a while. Even though the Barracudas were miles away from the main Cazador army, they should be hearing something. The battle couldn’t be over already unless… Could the Sirens really have killed close to a hundred men?
A sporadic burst of gunfire finally came. The chatter hardly pierced the din of wails that sounded like a malfunctioning alarm on one of the airships. He had trouble believing that the mutant beasts could stand against such a large, well-armed tactical force. But they were cunning and strong creatures, evolved to survive in the wastes, and to fight.
The Barracudas, in fully armored suits and carrying heavy weapons, weren’t faring so well, either. Ricardo and Luke were dead, and Wendig had a broken arm. Whale, Fuego, and Rhino didn’t seem deterred, however. They took a steep trail up into the jungle that bordered the coastal city.
The team crested the hill and set off under the dense canopy. The electronic whines of the monsters faded away, replaced by the chirping of insects and the creaking of branches in the wind.
A light rain pattered the ground, turning the poisoned earth to a fine slurry. X kept his rifle up and ready, his finger on the trigger guard.
Ten minutes into the trek, they came across more ruined buildings. Several rooftops protruded from the purple canopy of trees four and five stories high. One had grown right up through a building, its red branches bursting through the now collapsed ceiling like an explosion frozen in time.
Farther north, several acres of jungle were burned, perhaps from a lightning strike that started a fire. The storms had mostly passed, but sporadic flashes forked through the clouds every few minutes.
Rhino crouched down to look at tracks in the mud. Then he stood and continued up an overgrown trail that had once been a road. Very little of the fragmented asphalt remained, and the jungle closed in as the path narrowed ahead. Branches covered in thorns reached out like sharp fingers.
X had avoided places like this back in the wastes of the former United States, where more than once he had narrowly avoided becoming plant food. Rhino kept his distance from the branches by moving to the center of the road. The Barracudas seemed as wary of the trees as he was.
But the trees weren’t the only threat. A vine undulated like a snake across the ground. Rhino sliced it in half with his double-headed spear, and the vine retracted, oozing violet sap onto the fractured asphalt as it recoiled back into the jungle.
Fuego walked behind Rhino with his flamethrower, ready to blast through anything too thick for the lieutenant’s blades.