The odds seemed insurmountable, but that had never stopped him before.
He drew in a breath and turned slowly, searching the pool for a way out. Lifting his right leg, he took a step forward. It was slow going, but at least he could walk. On the third step, his boot hit something that rolled across the floor. He angled his lamp down at a pile of slime-covered sticks resting on the bottom. He stepped over them but soon crunched onto another pile.
Weaver angled his light down and saw that they weren’t sticks at all.
They were bones. Human bones.
Long bones, rib cages, and skulls had been dumped into the pool and were covered in the same red sludge he had seen earlier.
Weaver halted at the sight. He had finally discovered the remains of the people from ITC Communal 13—and, in the process, a way out of the pool. It felt wrong to climb over the dead, but he wasn’t yet ready to join them.
Michael secured his battery pack in the chest slot of his armor. Ty, the Hell Divers’ longtime launch technician, was not happy about prepping the tubes without orders.
“You have to trust me, Ty,” Michael said. “A lot of lives depend on us. Layla and I have no choice but to dive.”
“But Captain Jordan—”
“Fuck Captain Jordan,” Layla spat. “He’s going to get us all killed, starting with the team he just sent to the surface.”
Ty’s uncertain gaze hardened. He plucked the herb stick out of his mouth and threw it on the ground.
“I never did like him,” he said. “Now, get your asses in the launch tubes before the militia breaks down the doors.”
Michael put on his helmet and nodded at Layla as she climbed into her tube. She wore a vest stuffed with as much ammunition and supplies as she could carry.
Both divers looked as if they were preparing to go to war. If his hunch was right, they were going to need every bullet.
“Open up!” shouted a guard.
Michael pulled his blaster and pointed at Ty’s head as the guard looked through the windows into the launch bay.
Ty held up his hands. “Uh, Michael, what the hell are you doing?”
“Just play along,” Michael said. “If Jordan finds out you helped us, there’s no telling what he’ll do.”
Another guard slammed into the door.
“There’s a piece of paper in my pocket, with coordinates,” Michael said. “When we send our SOS, you have to make sure the ship is there.”
“But how? Captain Jordan has control over the ship.”
“Samson can override the navigation systems. I don’t have time to explain everything, but Jordan’s been lying to us all along. We have to stop him, but first I have to help the other divers. We’ll need them. Now, take the paper.”
Ty hesitated. “I’ve got your back, Commander,” he said at last. “Just like I had your father’s back, and X’s, and every other diver who goes out there.”
That was good enough for Michael. He wanted to pat Ty on the shoulder, but instead he kept the blaster leveled at his forehead while climbing inside his tube. He reached up with his other hand to pull the lid down. Layla’s tube shut with a loud click that was followed by a thud on the launch bay doors.
Glass shattered as one of the militia guards smashed the window with his rifle butt. He reached through, fumbling for the lock below.
Ty glanced over and continued punching in commands at the monitor that controlled Michael’s tube. The green launch button on the pedestal lit up.
“Screw the launch protocols,” Michael said. “You hit that button as soon as I give you the go-ahead.”
Ty nodded. “You go get our friends back.” He patted the top of the tube and ran over to Layla’s tube.
Michael looked at the glass floor. His entire body was warm with the prickle of adrenaline. There was no going back now. This was treason. Even if they made it back, he and Layla might be facing a long stint in the stockade.
The comm link from the speakers in his helmet clicked on. “Commander Everhart, this is Captain Jordan, do you copy?”
Michael ignored the transmission and opened a line to Layla instead. He kept his gun pointed at Ty as he prepared her tube for launch.
“Are you ready?”
“When you are, Tin.”
As soon as the countdown on his HUD flickered, Michael holstered his blaster. There was no turning back now.
“Fifteen seconds,” Ty said.
Michael snugged the rifle strap over his back and made sure his blaster was secure. Then he checked the pistol holstered on his boot. He buttoned the strap that had snapped open. A quick glance at his HUD revealed that all systems were online.
Two beacons blinked on his minimap, one for each of them. Seeing the lights made him realize this was the right thing to do. He was going down there with his person. Together. That’s how they did things.
“Handle your present with confidence,” Michael whispered. “Face your future without fear.” He had found that quote in a fortune cookie over a decade ago. Never had that it felt more significant than right now.
“Commander Everhart, I’m not going to tell you again,” Jordan said. “Stop this launch, or I will have you both thrown in the stockade without rations!”
There was only one thing left for Michael to say. He bumped his comm pad to open a private channel to Captain Jordan and yelled, “We dive so humanity survives!”
He felt the floor beneath his feet fall away.
SIXTEEN
Rodger had finally stopped flinching each time the beast pounded on the doors. A few minutes ago, he had pissed himself from fright. Fortunately, it hadn’t overfilled the bag in his suit.
He took a drink of water from the tube in his helmet and swished it around his mouth. The taste of beer still lingered. He wasn’t proud of his worst habit.
Another thud rattled the warehouse of cryogenic chambers, and he jerked his gun back toward the doors. The monster seemed to be growing tired now. The impacts were sporadic, and Rodger could hear the thing wheezing and snorting.
Warehouse. Yeah, that’s what he would call this place, he mused, looking out at the hundreds of capsules. Magnolia was checking the chambers around the base of the first tower.
“These are all compromised,” she said quietly. “Something got to them before they were opened.”
Rodger kept his voice low. “What an awful way to wake up.”
Magnolia drew her knife as she approached the next capsule. She waved him over, and he ran to catch up. What he saw inside made him shiver. The interior bed was shredded and covered in small flakes of charcoal.
Rodger reached inside and picked up a piece. It turned to dust between his fingers and wafted to the floor.
“Whatever happened here, happened a long time ago,” he said. “These remains are mummified.”
“Keep searching,” Magnolia said. “Maybe one of these capsules is intact. You take that tower; I’ll take this one.”
“Copy that, Mags. Want to bet on who finds the most horrible thing?” he said, trying to conceal his fear with bravado. It didn’t work.
With a shiver, he directed his beam at the crushed glass below the next silo. He really didn’t like splitting up, but Captain Jordan had given him a mission, and although Rodger wasn’t sure exactly what he was looking for, he wasn’t about to back down now.
He played the light on the ceiling, where a crane ran on a steel track overhead. The claws were clamped shut. He shifted the beam to the next tower. The glass surface of the chamber at the bottom was shattered, and a skirt of glass shards surrounded the base. His boots crunched over the debris as he circled and checked the tubes farther up. Each chamber was destroyed, the occupant missing. He angled his light inside to reveal a padded bed covered in brown stains. He held the beam there for a moment.