SIX
The pebbles of dried blood continued up the stairs. X knew that the concrete stairwell wasn’t real. None of this was. He was stuck in a delirious dream state, trapped like a Siren in a cage, living in a nightmare.
Only this wasn’t exactly a nightmare. It was a dream in which he was following Ada Winslow’s journey to his former home in Florida.
And it was as clear as rainwater. So clear that he felt as if he were actually there. He could even feel his pounding heart.
He kept going up the stairs, following the drops of blood, compelled to find Ada and help her.
The plastic curtain he had used to block off the next landing was torn aside. He slipped around it, halting at the claw marks along the walls.
More streaks marred the floor.
X wasn’t the only one following Ada in this dream.
Sirens were hunting.
He had given her a rifle to defend herself with, but that didn’t matter if she didn’t know how to shoot it or was too injured to fight.
He had also given her medicine, but that wouldn’t matter if she didn’t know how to dress a wound from the poisonous barbed weeds.
But she had made it here, and if she got herself across the ocean in a crappy little fishing boat with only half the needed gas, then maybe she could put down a Siren or two.
He ran up the stairs, determined to find her before the monsters did.
The vivid dream flashed to darkness, then images of the young officer’s freckled features being torn apart by a pack of Sirens, her arms and legs being ripped away while she screamed.
“Help me! Somebody, help me!”
She stared at X.
“You did this to me!” she shrieked. “You killed me!”
X jerked free of the nightmare, panting like a dog.
A scream echoed in the dark quarters. He recognized the rough voice.
It was his.
Something wet and cold hit his forehead. He shivered violently, his body clammy but burning at the same time.
“Ada,” he muttered. “I have to save Ada.”
A deep fog settled over his mind, as if his brain were suspended in tar. He squirmed, trying to break the mental chains.
“His temperature is one-oh-four,” said a distant voice.
“The antibiotics just aren’t working,” said another.
X tried to make out the blurred faces hovering over his bedside.
“Ada,” he mumbled again.
A hand restrained his chest. More figures were in the hallway, where torches burned in mounted sconces.
“Ada,” X said again. “They’re hunting Ada.”
“Ada is gone, King Xavier,” said a faint voice.
Another hand pushed down on his shoulders. The pain cleared his vision, and in that moment of clarity, he focused on the person holding him.
Sloan’s lazy eye glared down at him.
“Sir, you need to calm the hell down,” she said. “You’re burning up.”
“Ada,” X said.
“She’s gone, sir,” Sloan said. “It’s a tragedy, but she chose to take her own life over her guilt. You can’t blame yourself.”
She put a hand on his shoulder, and X held her gaze.
But X knew the truth. Ada hadn’t taken her own life. She was out there, and she was being hunted by the monsters, all because of him.
Sloan’s lazy eye wandered right, to Dr. Huff. Samson was also here, watching with his arms folded over his sizable belly.
“X, you need to settle down,” Samson said.
Something nudged his feet, and X looked down to see Miles there, whining. The dog tried to get closer, but a militia soldier reached out.
Miles growled at the man, who, X now saw, was Sergeant Wynn.
More soldiers were in the hallway, guarding the room. Ton and Victor held spears, trying to look inside. Several militia soldiers also stood sentry with submachine guns.
“Wynn, get out of here,” Sloan ordered. “Unless you want to lose your hand.”
“Ada,” X mumbled. “We’ve got to find Ada.”
He tried to sit up, but Sloan pushed his shoulders down.
Huff said, “King Xavier, if you don’t relax, I’m going to have to give you a shot to make you sleep.”
“Fuck you,” X said.
The doctor stared, incredulous, but Sloan chuckled.
“I think he’s getting better, Doc,” she said.
“No, he’s not, actually,” Huff said. “If his temperature gets any higher, it could affect his brain.”
That wiped the grin off Sloan’s face.
X was delirious, but he registered what he was hearing. He blinked through the sweat stinging his eyes.
For a moment, his brain ramped back up to normal speed, and he remembered the airship and everyone else still out there. Memories of the past few days flashed through his mind.
Rhino was dead. So was Vargas.
Ada was probably dead.
And the crew of Discovery.
“Where’s Tin?” he asked, trying again to sit up. He managed to break free of Sloan’s grip and sat up, his body on fire, sweat pouring down his bandaged flesh.
X blinked rapidly, willing his brain to stay alert. But the fever, the injuries, and the uncertain fate of his friends in the sky felt like too much to bear, even for the Immortal.
He was going to crash, and perhaps this time, he wouldn’t wake up again.
Something pricked his arm.
He looked down at his right arm. A needle had pricked his flesh, and holding it was Dr. Huff.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
“You son of a…”
The fog clouded X’s mind again, and the room began to fade. He slumped back on his pillow.
The voices grew distant until there were no voices at all.
Darkness gave way to light.
He was back in his apartment in Florida, standing in the hallway that led to the bunker he shared with Miles. The door was cracked open, providing a narrow view inside.
Crates of supplies were stacked on the floor, and the windows were sealed with plastic.
X squeezed through the opening and stopped just inside the doorway. From the bedroom came a sound like snapping twigs and someone chewing fatty meat.
Five more steps brought him to the open bedroom door. A beast with skin the color of a hen’s egg hunched over a body on the floor.
It was Ada.
He stood there for a moment watching the beast slurp down her guts. Both legs had already been stripped to bone. But it was her face that most horrified him. The cute freckled features had swollen to four times their normal size, and both eyeballs bulged out.
She had managed to get her helmet off before she died, exposing her swollen neck. The stings from the barbed plants had killed her before the Siren could.
Or so X hoped.
Either way, she had suffered horribly. And it was his fault.
She wasn’t ready to come to the wastes. She had never dived or spent time outside the airships. Sending her here with gear but no skills was much worse than a simple sword thrust.
Rhino had been right. X should have just killed her in her cell.
The Siren suddenly twisted with a rope of viscera hanging from its open maw. The eyeless face tilted slightly and sniffed the air.
Jagged teeth snapped, and the creature let out a high-pitched wail that seemed to go on and on, like a never-ending air-raid siren.
X wasn’t sure when he woke. A bright moon cast a glow inside his quarters. Dr. Huff, Samson, Sloan, and Wynn were gone, but Miles remained camped out at his feet.
The dog nudged him, licking the salty sweat off his arm.
“It’s okay, boy,” X mumbled.
A rattling sound came from the corner of the room, where Sloan sat sleeping in a chair.
X drew in a breath and raised his hand to his forehead. Sweat dripped down, but he didn’t feel as hot, and he could move and actually think in a straight line. His mind reverted to the Ada nightmare.