Another roar sounded as X rolled up to a sitting position. He blinked and blinked, trying to get a view of Rhino. The lieutenant, weaponless, was back on his feet now with his fists up as the creature approached.
He jumped back to avoid a swipe of curved talons. Then he threw a punch at the jaw, which did little more than fuel the creature’s rage. It reached out and grabbed Rhino by the neck, lifting him off the ground, as X finally got to his feet.
He staggered the first few steps but then managed a trot. The creature lifted Rhino higher until his boots were a good three feet off the ground. X looked for something to fight with, and his eyes narrowed in on the spiky apparitions on the beast’s back. He grabbed one and pulled with all his strength.
The beast dropped Rhino’s limp body to the ground and whirled toward X, hunching down and screeching. X jabbed the spike at its remaining eye but missed, and talons slashed his chest armor.
He smacked down on his back again as the monster towered over him. Reaching down, it plucked him off the ground and raised him into the air. The huge hand clamped down on his throat, cutting off the air and threatening to crush his windpipe.
He flailed with his arm, trying to find something to grab—something to fight back with. Over the years, he had survived because he always left himself an out, but this time, he didn’t have any.
The beast pulled him closer to its face. As X’s vision faded in and out, he looked into the soulless gaze of a monster straight from the pits of hell. And in the reflection from that baleful eye, he saw the triangle of shrapnel sticking out of his helmet, just above the visor. Leaving the pointed shard lodged where it was, he rammed his head into the monster’s eye.
The mutant howled in agony and dropped X to the dirt, where he scrambled away.
X filled his lungs with air, and as his vision cleared, he watched a dripping wet man limp across the dirt with a broken spear in his hand. He approached the monster, waited, and then jammed the blade into the roof of its open mouth.
The ground shook as if a tree had fallen.
X also collapsed, allowing himself a breather.
He felt a hand on his shoulder a moment later and glanced up at Wendig. Reaching down with his good hand, the warrior helped X to his feet. They staggered over to Rhino, who was slowly coming to.
“You okay?” X asked.
Rhino pushed himself up and looked at the dead monster. All three of them stared for several seconds, catching their breath.
“Impressive, Immortal,” Rhino finally said. “Only one thing left to do now: take the head.”
“I wasn’t the one to bring it down.” X nodded to Wendig, who had already grabbed Whale’s axe. Using his good hand, the injured Barracuda hacked at the neck, in the flicker of the raging fires.
SEVENTEEN
“Timothy Pepper of the Sea Wolf is not responding to any messages,” Sandy said from the bridge.
Katrina swore under her breath. Losing the AI had severed their one connection to the Metal Islands. She had just left the medical ward, where Eevi had wrapped a bandage around her chest.
Pain from the bruised rib stopped her halfway up the ladder. The dent in her armor could be pounded back into place, but it would take weeks to recover from the injury.
Wincing, she took in a shallow breath and let it out. She was lucky. The bullet could easily have pierced her armor and killed her. But it didn’t. She was still alive, and she was about to have an enemy ship and a trawler in her possession. Aside from the news about Timothy, today was shaping up to be a good day.
But before she could celebrate over the two captured craft, she had to make sure she had neutralized the threats on them. She continued up to the ops command center for a better view. Trey and Alexander were here, scanning the waters for any Cazador soldiers who may have escaped the slaughter.
The USS Zion was a good distance away from the two main enemy ships and the expanse of sea where the .50-cals had chewed apart the smaller vessels, but the Hell Divers were not going to take any chances.
The other divers were belowdecks in the combat information center or on the bridge, monitoring the weapons and scanning the water for heat signatures.
“Captain,” Trey said.
Alexander nodded and handed her a pair of binoculars. She aimed them at the bay, where smoke rose off the smoldering flotsam, and corpses wearing life jackets floated amid the debris.
“Captain, we have the MK-65 turret aimed at the container ship,” Alexander said, “but so far we haven’t seen much movement.”
Katrina centered the binos on the ship. Fire still burned in the operations tower, whose metal skin splayed outward like a crown.
On the deck, several stacks of containers had toppled onto their sides. Others floated low in the water. The starboard hull had gaping holes from several shell impacts, some of them still billowing smoke.
The devastation made her wonder whether the vessel could be salvaged. She was honestly surprised it wasn’t on the bottom of the bay.
“What should we do with the live ones?” Alexander asked.
“I say let ’em drown,” Trey replied.
She moved the binos back to the water between the Zion and the Cazador container ship. Clicking a button, she turned on the infrared function. Multiple heat signatures lit up.
Several soldiers hung on to their damaged vessels. Of the original warriors, only about ten to fifteen were still alive, and many of them had to be mortally wounded.
“We could always run ’em over,” Trey said.
Katrina lowered the binos to look at the young diver. “Your father would not be proud of that suggestion.”
“Why have mercy on them?” Trey asked. “There’s no way in hell they would do the same for us.”
“If I may,” Alexander said. “We used almost thirty percent of the working ammunition, so whatever we do, it shouldn’t involve any more of our reserves.”
“I do agree with that,” Katrina replied. She looked back out over the flaming junkyard strewn across the water. She didn’t have enough personnel to take these people captive, or the medical supplies to treat them for their injuries.
The other divers looked at her, waiting for her decision.
“We leave them,” Katrina said firmly.
Alexander and Trey both nodded, awaiting her next orders. She considered them carefully and decided to move forward with the salvage operation.
“I want a fire team ready to board the container ship as soon as possible,” she said. “I’ll take lead again.”
“What!” Alexander said. “All due respect, Captain, but you’re injured, and needed here. Let me take lead.”
“I agree with Alexander,” Trey said. “You need to rest.”
Katrina put a hand to the bandage wrapped around her chest. They were right; she just didn’t want to admit it. She was used to leading by example, but this time she was in no condition. If anything, she would just be a liability to the other divers.
“Okay, fine, but take Vish with you,” she said.
Alexander forced a smile. “Don’t worry, I got this.”
“What do we do with the live ones on that ship?” Trey asked.
“Depends on who they are,” she said. “If you discover civilians, then we’ll take them captive, but if they’re soldiers, you shoot to kill.”
“Understood, ma’am,” Trey said. He turned, but Katrina thought she saw him crack a half grin.
“Be careful, Trey. You, too, Alexander.”
They both nodded and walked down the ladder to the bridge, where Eevi and Sandy were busy monitoring their stations.
“Weigh anchor,” Katrina ordered. She pulled the receiver off the comm station and connected to the CIC. “Vish, report to the cargo bay ASAP. Jaideep, Edgar, you stay on those weapons and fire on anything that comes close to us. We’re leaving the bay.”