Magnolia ducked under a bulkhead and into a passage with standing water. She took a detour to the shit cans. They were even worse than those on the Hive.
The draft in here was almost unbearable. She held her nose as she relieved herself in a stall missing a door. The bulkhead-mounted mirrors across from the toilet were stained and cracked, but she could still see her reflection.
Both eyes were swollen, her lower lip was cracked, and she had lost a tooth. If not for the fresh bandage on her head, she would look like a monster. Even now she looked awful. But she was alive.
She rinsed off her hands and went to the medical ward. Rodger was sitting up in his bunk.
“Mags,” he said, forcing a crooked grin.
She walked over, and his face returned to its perpetual frown.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
“Really tired, but I’ll live. How about you?”
Magnolia shrugged as she walked into the space crowded with injured soldiers. Ton and Victor were in adjacent beds, and beside Ton was the English-speaking Barracuda warrior Willis. Everyone was being treated for radiation poisoning, including Magnolia, who had been exposed to low doses with her helmet off.
She smiled at Ton and Victor and sat by Rodger’s side. His feet and legs were covered with a blanket, and she was careful not to sit on them.
“We still haven’t been able to raise the Vanguard Islands since the first message,” she said.
He looked down, then back to her. “I have faith in Tin, Les, Timothy, and Samson,” Rodger said. “If anyone can stop the machines, it’s them.”
Magnolia wished she had that same faith, but she feared that their mission had failed. Even if they had succeeded, it may well be too late for the Vanguard Islands.
Something in her gnawed like a parasite feasting on her guts. She had this horrible feeling her friends were all dead, not only at Kilimanjaro but at the islands.
Darkness swarmed her mind. All she wanted to do was curl up with Rodger and sleep. But if the Hell Divers had failed, there was another fight ahead.
Would it even be worth fighting if everyone was dead?
“I better get back topside and start helping with the weapons,” she said. “The skeleton crew needs help.”
“Wait.”
Rodger reached out and took her hand.
“We’re going to be okay,” he said. Then he brought her hand to his mouth and kissed it. “I love you, Mags.”
“So you can be romantic,” she said. “I love you, too. See you in a bit.”
She walked over to Victor and Ton before leaving. “How are you two feeling?”
Victor blinked at her, still sedated. He mumbled something to Ton, who gave a thumbs-up.
“Thank you for everything you did for the king,” she said.
Victor pounded his chest with his fist.
She continued, past Willis. He swung his legs over the bed and pulled an IV line out of his arm, then stood up with a pained grunt.
“Screw sitting here and shitting in a bucket,” he said. “You need help with those guns?”
“I’d love some.”
He followed her back to the upper decks, stopping to change into a suit before going outside. Magnolia changed into one, too, and stepped up to a porthole.
Lightning flashed across the horizon, illuminating the deck. Several Cazador soldiers worked on the twenty-millimeter cannons and several smaller machine guns mounted on the gunwales.
Most of the rockets had been expended, but the skinwalkers had several other weapons systems. She spotted the spearguns that they used to hunt Sirens.
Can’t use one of those on a machine.
There were two Mark 45 lightweight guns, but neither worked. If they could get them up and running, they might have a fighting chance to inflict major damage, as they had back at Red Sphere.
“We have to get those back in service,” she said, pointing to one of the cannons.
Willis nodded. “I’ll get a team on it.”
She spent the next hour working with him and a handful of Cazadores, including some mechanics who had managed to escape from Shadow and Renegade. The team finished with a final count on weapons and ammo.
There wasn’t much even if they could get one of the Mark 45 lightweight guns working, which the mechanics weren’t sure about. All tallied up, it was hardly enough to fight more than a few machines.
She thanked Willis and walked off the bloody deck. A ladder took her to a hatch that opened to another empty passage. Brooding, she walked to the command center.
Halfway down the next passage, a voice stopped her.
“There you are,” Rodger said.
“Rodge, what in the hell are you doing out of bed!”
She turned around to see that he wasn’t alone. Ton was there with Victor, and so was Imulah. The fact that they all had gotten out of their beds despite severe injuries told her something dire was happening.
“Come quickly,” Imulah said. “We made contact with the Vanguard Islands.”
Magnolia went over to help the injured men to the command center. As they approached, the crackle of static echoed off the overhead and bulkheads.
X was standing with Forge at the comms station.
“What’s going…” Magnolia started to say.
X turned with a finger to his lips.
She helped Rodger over, and Ton limped with Victor and Imulah.
“Destroyed… Trading post… Gone…”
The female voice kept breaking up, but she caught the gist of it. The machines had all but destroyed the Vanguard Islands.
Lightning forked through the sky, creating a resounding crackle over the comms.
The view was one Magnolia had seen all her life. She had always thought this view was all that existed on the surface: storms, wastes, and memories of a world destroyed.
But through it all, they had finally found a home, only to have it wiped out by the machines. She dreaded the thought of returning to a destroyed paradise.
“Machines are…” said the voice.
The message finally cleared.
“This is X,” he said. “Who am I talking to, and what the hell is happening?”
White noise filled the room, but it passed and a familiar voice surged over the channel.
“This is Ada Winslow, sir,” came the reply. “The machines attacked and sank Elysium…”
The radio cut out again.
“How can that be Ada?” Magnolia asked. “Is this some sort of a trick?”
“Ada, do you copy?” X said.
“Copy, sir.”
“It’s really you?”
“Yes, sir. I returned to help you.”
X paused, his graying brows coming together in confusion.
“We’re on our way, aboard Raven’s Claw,” he said. “How long can you hold off the machines?”
There was no reply. The radio had cut out again.
Magnolia felt her chest warm.
“Ada,” X said. “Ada, do you copy?”
He pounded the radio with his hand.
“This piece of shit,” he growled.
Lightning flashed outside the portholes. The warship was sailing toward another electrical storm—probably the cause of all the static.
They stood there for several minutes trying to get Ada back. Rolling thunder followed another barrage of lightning.
After the rattling stopped, the radio came to life.
“King Xavier, do you copy?” Ada said.
“Copy!” X almost shouted.
“Sir, I don’t know what you heard last, but we held the capitol tower and the Hive long enough for the divers you sent to Mount Kilimanjaro to complete their mission. The virus worked, sir. The defectors were shut down—worldwide.”