She scanned the distant oil rigs, trying to remember their configuration from when she sailed past them a few hours earlier.
“I think I got it working,” Sofia said. “We can send a message out on this frequency and hope someone who’s monitoring analog dials us in.”
“Take the wheel,” Magnolia said. “We’re heading to the rig where they’re building a prison.”
She bent down and grabbed the handset while Sofia took the helm.
“This message is from Magnolia Katib. If anyone on Deliverance or the Hive receives this, do not come to the Metal Islands. I repeat, do not come here. This is not the place we thought it was. There are too many soldiers to fight. Please, do not—”
“Oh, shit,” Sofia said.
A bright light hit the windshield, and Sofia spun the wheel hard to port. Grabbing the back of a seat to keep from falling, Magnolia shielded her eyes from the bright glow.
She couldn’t see anything, but she could hear the rhythmic cough of the exhaust pipes.
“Down!” Sofia yelled.
Before Magnolia could react, something slammed into the Sea Wolf. She lost her footing and went down hard, hitting her head on the cabin bulkhead. Water spurted from the passage outside the open hatch to the other quarters, and between blinks she saw a long, sharp spike that had punched through the hull and the little galley where she once cooked shark meat.
Blood trickled down her forehead, dripping into the seawater that poured in through the breached hull. Sofia tried to get up but fell back down.
The loud purr of idling motors surrounded the Sea Wolf, and bright lights glared through the broken windshield. Magnolia looked around her for something to fight with, but she couldn’t even get up. This time, there was no escaping. No lucky break. She had played her cards and lost, and what came next would be worse than anything she could imagine.
Sofia crawled across the deck toward her, holding her gun in a shaky hand. Voices sounded outside, and the noise of boots slopping through water in the passage.
Magnolia pushed the hatch shut just as lights flickered into the command center. She managed to lock the hatch, then fell backward on a deck awash in seawater.
Sofia handed Magnolia the gun. “I’ve got seven bullets left,” she said. “Make them count.”
Magnolia took the pistol and trained it on the doorway at waist level.
“Save two bullets,” Sofia said. “We can’t let them take us alive.”
TWENTY-TWO
“Clear a path!” Les shouted.
Everyone parted to make way for the thirty militia soldiers heading to Deliverance from the Hive. They tromped over the metal deck, cradling submachine guns—normally reserved for the Hell Divers due to the risk of an accidental discharge on the fragile ships.
But instead of yelling profanities or giving these men and women a hard time, the passengers on the way to their shelters moved aside to stand and pay their respects to the soldiers who would soon put their lives on the line for humanity.
The soldiers weren’t the only people headed to war. Civilians who had spent their entire lives working on the ship trailed the militia soldiers. Rodger’s dad, Cole, from the woodworking and clock shop; Marv from the Wingman; Dom from the Dragon; and dozens more: farmers, engineers, janitors, teachers, and even lower-deckers.
Les let them pass before taking the rigid passageway connecting the two airships. The tunnel was packed full of passengers being reorganized under the updated disaster mitigation plan that Ensigns White, Winslow, and Connor had put together. During the attack on the Metal Islands, most of the civilians, including his family, would remain on the Hive.
He wasn’t supposed to go to the Hive, but he had to see his girls before the ships uncoupled. Their shelter was already packed full when he got there. Fourteen passengers sat in the bucket seats, with red safety belts across their chests.
Seeing Phyl strapped into a child seat about melted his aching heart.
“Dad!” she shouted.
“Hey, sweetie.” He knelt down in front of her. To his surprise, Katherine unbuckled herself and wrapped her arms around him.
“I’m so glad you came,” she said. “I wanted to tell you something.”
The emergency siren ceased for a moment, replaced by the kind, firm voice of Ensign Ada Winslow.
“T-minus ten minutes before the ships uncouple. Please report to your shelters or stations immediately.”
As always, Les felt that he was running on a clock and that time was almost up.
Katherine tightened her grip around his neck and then pulled back to look him in the eyes.
“Now I understand why you became a Hell Diver and an officer,” she said. “Everything you’ve done has been for your family.”
He smiled. “I love you all too much to do less.”
“I know,” Katherine said. She looked up at the dented bulkheads of the shelter, then at the other people strapped inside. “This ship has carried us for long enough. It’s time to find a new home, even if we have to fight for it.”
“You’re right, and that’s exactly what I’m going to do.”
Les kissed his wife on the lips and then kissed Phyl on her forehead.
“I’ll see you both soon,” he said.
“Look after Trey,” Katherine said.
“I will.”
He left the shelter and closed the hatch with a heavy but full heart. Knowing that his wife supported him gave him the energy to do what had to be done. After securing the hatch, he took off at a trot through the corridors.
Three engineers in red jumpsuits stood on the Deliverance side, waiting to retract the connecting walkway. He squeezed past them as the warning siren wailed.
When he reached the command center, the officers were finishing their final launch preps.
“Someone give me a sitrep,” Les said.
“We’ve confirmed one enemy vessel on the water,” Bronson reported.
Les stepped over to the porthole windows, but all he could see was darkness slashed by lightning. They were fifteen thousand feet above the ocean, far out of reach of any weapons the Cazadores could fire at them, and even if they did have some sort of missile, tracking the airships in the soup of electrical storms would be impossible, according to Timothy Pepper.
“Captain DaVita is moving into position,” Dave said.
“Good,” Les said, typing in his credentials. He eyed the empty captain’s chair. I sure hope you know what you’re doing, Katrina.
She had changed the plan at the last minute, and Les wasn’t sure the new one was any better. The bridge doors whisked open and Layla entered, but to his surprise, she wasn’t wearing her Hell Diver armor. Michael followed her inside.
“Commander,” Les said.
“Lieutenant, Layla is going to stay on the bridge during both phases of the attack,” Michael said.
Layla didn’t look too happy about it, and Les wasn’t going to ask questions. They didn’t have time.
“Captain, all systems are a go,” Ada said.
It took Les a moment to register that she was talking to him. With Katrina back on the USS Zion, he was in command of Deliverance. But if Layla wasn’t diving, then perhaps she should be the one at the helm. He thought on it for a few seconds before giving the order to uncouple the ships.
Ada gave the order to the engineers.
A loud clunk reverberated through the ship. Using the turbofans, Les carefully backed up, and Deliverance peeled away from the Hive for the second time in as many weeks.