She yanked it free and hacked at the next creature, slithering a few feet away. The edge cut open a gash through the back. A third leech rose up like a cobra and darted toward her, only to stop when she jabbed the machete into its open mouth.
The point broke out the back of the head, and the thing went limp, pulling the stuck blade down with the weight of its body. Before she could get it out, a fourth leech slithered toward her, striking at her boot, and she had to let go of the weapon.
She jumped away and then fell on her back, with the flashlight still in her hand.
A tide of the leeches surged forward in the glow, sucker lips popping. She jumped up and bolted for her boat, looking frantically for something to fight with. The broken oar was the first thing she saw.
She grabbed it and impaled the nearest creature with the jagged edge where the paddle had broken off. The other sucker-faced abominations surged up the beach, making clicking noises. She struck them one by one, pounding them over and over until they were masses of spikes and pulp.
Killing each of the monsters felt oddly satisfying. She slashed, jabbed, and hacked until she was panting. Sweat dripped down her forehead.
After another few whacks, the last creature stopped writhing.
Lightning forked overhead, spreading a glow over her handiwork. A dozen monsters lay in pools of purple blood in the sand. She stood there, chest heaving, drenched in sweat, flush with a feeling she hadn’t known in a long time.
Pride.
While she caught her breath, the adrenaline that had masked her pain faded. It wasn’t just her toe that hurt. The same foot pulsated with pain from where a leech had sunk its teeth through the reinforced boot. She could feel it filling with blood.
Cursing, Ada hobbled over to retrieve her machete, when she heard a familiar noise behind her. She searched for the source with her light and found a hairy head poking above a cluster of purple roots that grew at the edge of the sand.
The little monkey hopped out of the vegetation and moved cautiously toward her.
She lowered the machete and the flashlight.
“It’s okay,” she said soothingly. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
The monkey hopped over until it was just a few feet away.
She thought back to one of the reasons she had popped all those pain pills. Now perhaps she had a companion. A creature to accompany her, as X had with Miles on his journey through the wastes.
But would it come with her, and could she care for it?
One thing was certain. She wasn’t going to Florida. She was going back to the Vanguard Islands, to fight for her freedom in the Sky Arena—assuming she hadn’t been right about the Cazadores.
She feared there wouldn’t be anything to return to if, by some miracle, she made it back.
First, though, she had to get her foot fixed up and then salvage a sail from another boat. She sure as hell wasn’t rowing all the way back to the islands.
Ada went back to her boat, and the monkey followed warily.
Halfway there, she saw something sticking out of the sand. Bending down, she brushed sand away from her rifle.
The animal hopped over and looked up at Ada, and for the first time in recent memory, she smiled.
This was shaping up to be a better day than she could have hoped for. She was still alive, and she had a friend.
TWENTY
Magnolia woke up in a room that smelled like overcooked meat. Looking around her, she realized she was surrounded by it.
Dozens of burn victims lay in rows of beds, their bodies wrapped in bandages brown with blood.
With her ears still ringing, she sat up and scanned the bandaged faces for the one person she expected to see in here. For the first time she could recall in her adult life, she found herself missing another human being.
She had always counted on herself, but she had grown to count on Rodger. And Rodgeman wasn’t in any of the beds that lined both walls.
Feeling a twinge of panic, she lay back on her pillow, looking up at the ocean waves and fields of flowers painted on the ceiling.
She followed the line up from her arm to the IV bag hanging from a pole beside the bed—sterile saline for rehydration, she supposed.
It had taken her a few seconds to remember why she was here and why her ears were ringing. Memories of the attack flooded her mind, but she had no idea what had happened since the boat ride, or how long she had been out.
“Nurse,” she mumbled in a scratchy voice.
The woman attending a man across the aisle turned and said something that Magnolia could hardly make out.
The woman, named Lisa, wasn’t really a nurse. She had worked as a seamstress on the Hive, which apparently made her really good at stitching people up. The skill had come in handy since they arrived at the Vanguard Islands, but Magnolia was leery of her doing anything more than suturing a wound.
As she waited, a man with a beard raised a bandaged hand to her.
“Imulah,” Magnolia whispered. She waved back to him, and he rested his head back on a pillow.
“What can I do for you?” Lisa asked in a distant-sounding voice.
“How long have I been here?” Magnolia asked.
“Since the attack.”
“Which was when?”
“This morning,” Lisa said. “It’s about midnight now.”
“I slept that long?”
“We gave you a strong painkiller,” Lisa said. “You have a ruptured eardrum, and burns—”
“Do you know what’s going on outside?”
“Not really, but he might.” Lisa looked toward the double doors with glass windows. A militia soldier stood outside.
“Thanks,” Magnolia replied.
Lisa nodded and moved on to her next patient.
Magnolia wasted no time. Reaching down, she ripped off the tape and pulled the needle out of her vein. Then, wincing in pain, she swung her legs over the side of the bed.
The right side of her head throbbed under the thick bandage, but she didn’t care about the pain. All that mattered was finding Rodger and the Hell Divers. She threw off the blanket and placed her naked feet on the tile floor.
Several patients in the beds were people she had grown up with, but there were also Cazadores she didn’t recognize. The attack had spared no one.
After testing her balance with a tentative step, Magnolia staggered down the center of the room, past nurses and patients. A male voice that had to be Dr. Huff’s called out when she had reached Imulah’s bed.
“Magnolia!” said the same agitated voice.
She slowed but didn’t stop as the doc hurried after her.
“Where are you going?” he said.
She kept walking. She didn’t have time to argue.
“Magnolia Katib, stop!” Huff said, his voice louder but still faint.
Several injured patients looked up from their beds.
“I said stop!” Huff said in what had to be a shout.
Magnolia halted and faced the doctor. He stepped up to her, stopping uncomfortably close to her face, all the usual niceties forgotten.
“I’m going to assume you didn’t hear me because you have a ruptured eardrum,” he said.
“I can hear just fine,” she lied.
“Well, then, listen and listen well. You have third-degree burns on the right side of your head and need to rest. Your ruptured eardrum makes your middle ear prone to infection and needs time to heal as well. I’ve given you some of the last of Colonel Forge’s nanotech gel, but you still need rest if you want to heal fast.”
“Just give me some painkillers that won’t knock me out.”
Huff stared. “I really want to believe you can’t hear what I’m saying.”
“I hear you, but I have work to do.”