Magnolia had woken up bound to one of the two windshield posts, each topped with a grinning human skull, on el Pulpo’s war boat. Sofia was tied to the other, and she hadn’t moved yet.
“Sofia…” Magnolia tried to say. All that she could hear was a steady ringing. There was fluid in her ears that had to be blood.
Those weren’t the only things that hurt.
She couldn’t see out of her right eye after a fist had caught her there. The left eye wasn’t all that much better, but it let her see the battle raging in the distance.
El Pulpo hung back from the rest of his armada, watching the fight. His thirty or so remaining boats were firing everything they had at the warship.
Apparently, Katrina either hadn’t gotten the warning or had ignored it. Knowing the captain, it was probably the latter. But if that was the case, then where the hell were the airships?
She could understand keeping the fragile Hive at a safe distance, but Deliverance? She prayed it wasn’t the source of the explosion a few minutes ago.
The blast was loud enough to carry over the rumble of the exhaust stack beside her, but her restraints had kept her from twisting around to see. They had trussed her up so tight, the rope cut into her bare flesh.
El Pulpo took his helmet off and set it on the seat beside Miles. He turned to look at Magnolia and Sofia. The glow from burning boats gave enough light for Magnolia to see the rage in his face.
His eye appeared to be bulging, and a vein stuck out in the center of his forehead, adding what looked like an extra arm to the octopus tattoo. She was going to take great pleasure in seeing her people kill him. If she lived that long.
After baring his teeth at the captured runaways, he went back to watching the battle. Another of his boats exploded in a cloud of debris. The Zion was on the run now, fleeing the armada of smaller vessels. Its wake heaved through the scrap yard of boats chewed up by its cannon and machine-gun fire. But the warship had taken some hits, too. Smoke fingered away from the deck and the top of the destroyed command center. Whoever was at the helm knew what they were doing.
Magnolia glanced over to see Sofia finally coming to. Her nose was broken, and some teeth had been knocked out. Blood streaked down her chin, neck, and breasts. With her looks destroyed, el Pulpo would be less likely to forgive her sins.
Now Magnolia understood why Sofia didn’t want to be taken alive.
They both were as good as dead. Their only chance was to be saved by the only heroes left in this world. She looked back up at the jeweled sky, but there was no sign of the Hell Divers.
They couldn’t be dead—not all of them… could they?
She twisted in the restraints, which cut into her hands and wrists. The pain didn’t bother her, but Miles’ sad gaze made her heart ache.
The dog cowered on the deck, quivering at the racket of explosions and gunfire. Magnolia fought harder, but there was nothing she could do. She was tied up too tight.
Her eyes flitted back to the star-filled sky.
All she could do was hope and pray that X had returned and that the Hell Divers would come for her. Not everyone believed in Janga’s prophecy—certainly not X—but she did, and her gut told her that he was going to help end all this.
She just hoped she would live to see it.
TWENTY-FIVE
“Stay back until we can confirm there aren’t more cannons!” Katrina yelled over the comm channel.
Gunfire and explosions in the distance made it difficult to hear the reply from Deliverance.
“You aren’t going to last much longer if we don’t get in this fight,” Layla said.
There was no mistaking the frustration and panic in her voice. With the Hell Divers pinned down on the rooftop of the capitol tower, and the USS Zion on the run from the Cazador boats, they all had reason to panic.
“You stay back and let me take care of these assholes,” Katrina shouted over the din of battle. “We can’t afford to lose Deliverance.”
The channel closed, and she went back to the monitors flashing reports of fires and system failures all across the ship. Despite massive damage, the engines were still running, the guns still fired, and the cameras still gave a panoramic view of the fight.
They were still very much in this.
She tabbed a screen to pull up the display on the starboard side, where a dozen enemy vessels, from speedboats to fishing trawlers, attacked with everything from handguns to rocket-propelled grenades.
Another grenade detonated against the warship’s armored hull. Katrina braced herself against the monitor. Better the Zion than Deliverance.
“Captain, we can’t take much more of this!” Eevi shouted.
On the port side, ten more boats mounted an assault. Katrina was drawing them away from the capitol tower to give the Hell Divers a chance to find the prisoners, and to give Deliverance an opportunity to come in and take out the fleet.
She just had to lead them outside the perimeter of the Metal Islands; then Layla could rain fire on them without being seen. So far, the plan was working.
The twenty-odd remaining boats pursued the warship toward the black void surrounding the Metal Islands. If she could get the Cazadores out there, they would be blind and wouldn’t be able to track Deliverance through the cloud cover.
“Edgar, how are we on ammunition?” Katrina said over the comm.
“The fifty-cal on the stern is out, ma’am, the one on the bow is down to ten percent ammo, and our only MK-65 has five shells.”
Katrina cursed at the report. Even if she did manage to draw the boats out there, she didn’t have enough ammunition to destroy them. It would be on Deliverance to take them out.
“Full speed ahead,” she ordered.
Sandy nodded, and the USS Zion picked up speed. It was much faster than anything the Cazadores had except the WaveRunners and the speedboats.
She heard chatter over the comms but couldn’t make out much of it. And as soon as she passed into the electrical storms outside the border, the comms would receive only static.
What she could make out was something about Commander Everhart and the other Hell Divers being pinned down at the capitol tower, unable to advance.
And Vish was gone, dead before he even landed.
Katrina looked at his brother, hunkered on the floor at his station. He had heard the news, and it had dropped him to his knees. Since then, he had regained his composure, but she wasn’t sure she could count on him once things got even dicier.
“Captain, look at this,” Eevi said.
Katrina hurried over to her station.
They USS Zion passed an oil rig, and the images came online.
Lights flickered on each deck, providing a glow to the vertical slum these people called home. Metal shacks and flimsy partition walls separated one family from the next. Gardens grew out of trough planters, and drying fish and clothing hung from wires and ropes.
Hundreds of people watched from the safety of the oil rig, looking out over the battle.
They look just like us: scared and trying to survive.
Another voice crackled over the channel. It was Edgar.
“They’re trying to board us!”
Katrina looked at the display of the starboard side, where six WaveRunners, carrying two riders each, sped alongside. They fired grappling hooks up over the rail.
She put on her helmet, switched on the comms system, and grabbed her laser rifle.