Miles got up and followed X to the boat where Victor and Ton had loaded the glider. Arlo was already on the deck.
“No, boy, you have to stay,” X said. He waved the dog back toward the docks, but Miles wasn’t having it. He jumped into the boat.
“I watch him,” Victor said in English that was getting better by the day.
X sighed. He couldn’t win an argument with Miles or Magnolia tonight. The motors chugged to life inside the marina, echoing off the bulkheads.
“Wait!” called out another female voice from the stairwell.
X turned to see Layla walk out of the open hatch in a dress, a hand over her swollen belly.
“Tin,” she said. “Come here for a minute.”
Michael, who had already boarded a boat, jumped out and hurried over. X watched, pondering whether to leave Michael behind. There was no telling when the skinwalkers might attack again, and the storms could make this mission more dangerous even than diving.
X was close enough, he could hear the conversation.
Layla wiped away a tear. “Please be careful, Tin. Please…”
Michael silenced her with a kiss. “I’ll be back by sunrise,” he said. “Meet me at the rooftop gardens. I have a surprise for you.”
Layla glared at X but didn’t say a word. She didn’t need to.
“I’ll watch out for him,” X said, raising a hand.
She held her hand up, too, then brushed a strand of hair away from her face, revealing a gash on her forehead. Michael kissed her and ran to his boat.
The marina door clanked open, and X put his helmet on as Victor guided their boat out into the night.
One by one, the boats sped away from the rig, moving out in all directions to take the people he loved most on a dangerous mission. Moonlight sparkled in the dark water ahead of the boat.
X decided to use the time before the mission to talk to Arlo. The young man sat by himself, looking at the sky. X took the seat next to him. For a few minutes, they sat in silence.
“I hope this isn’t a bad idea,” Arlo said. “I didn’t do so great last time my chute opened.”
X had heard the story but didn’t want to rub it in. He couldn’t remember a diver who had a worse landing and lived to tell about it. Arlo was lucky as hell to be here and not composting as Siren shit back in Rio.
“I haven’t told anyone this, but the skinwalkers…” Arlo’s words trailed off as a memory seemed to surface. “When they ambushed me and Edgar in Rio, I thought they were some sort of mutants because of their shriveled skins.”
“Worse than mutants.”
“Anyway, they captured us, but there were only three of them, and they didn’t understand English. Edgar came up with a plan to escape, and when the time came for me to do my part… I got scared, King Xavier, and I ran,” he said. “I ran and I left Edgar there. That’s why he was beat worse than me. He tried to fight the three bastards by himself while I took off like a damn coward.”
Edgar had apparently kept the story a secret. As far as X knew, no one had said anything about what had happened there.
“And you know what he told me when we were rescued and safely on Discovery?” Arlo bowed his helmet.
Lightning cleaved the skyline. They were getting close now. The boat thumped over waves as Victor opened it up. A distant crack of thunder sounded over the motor, and Arlo finally looked back up.
“Edgar told me he just wanted me to get away, and he was sorry I didn’t. He was sorry I didn’t get away. Can you believe that?”
“Yes,” X finally replied.
“And Alexander—he gave his life to give us a chance to escape when those freak bone-beast things were about to rip us limb from limb.”
“Everyone freaks out on their first dive,” X said. “It’s a natural human emotion to feel fear when you’re on the surface for the first time in your life. Don’t beat yourself up too much, kid.”
“Yeah, well, I realized in Rio what it means to be a Hell Diver.”
Another fork of lightning speared the horizon, illuminating the dark clouds. Arlo kept talking, seemingly oblivious to the storms.
“I realized diving is a duty and it requires sacrifice,” he said. “I’m ready to do my part, King Xavier. I’m ready to give my life if need be, for our people and for this place.”
X stood and patted Arlo on the shoulder.
“That’s good, kid, because tonight you’re going to need courage.” X looked out at the skyline. “Tonight, we’re heading out there.”
TWENTY-ONE
Michael rose into the sky for the second time in as many days, but this time he was strapped to a hang glider. His black helium balloon rose above the triangle of aluminum struts and sailcloth.
The rig was awkward, but the weight wasn’t as bad as he had expected. Fortunately, he didn’t need to rise to twenty thousand feet. This search would be much lower, at only two or three thousand feet above the water. When he reached the proper altitude, he would let out most of the helium. Then, when he needed to regain altitude, he would dial the booster to add more helium. It was a brake system in a way, but it was also dangerous as hell.
As he rose toward the black clouds, he twisted in his harness for one last look at the capitol tower, still visible in the distance. Leaving Layla after the attack was the hardest it had ever been. The only consolation was that Dr. Huff had cleared her of major injuries, and the ultrasound showed Bray doing just fine. The kid was a fighter like his mom and dad.
But they had been lucky. A few feet closer to the elevator cage on the rooftop of the Hive, and they could have ended up like Cole and Bernie Mintel.
Michael tried not to think of the dead and focused on the living.
He checked his wrist monitor. The beacon representing Cricket was going in and out from the electrical interference. For a small drone, it had covered a lot of surface area, but it hadn’t detected anything beyond the barrier.
Where the hell are you bastards? Michael thought.
Horn and his skinwalker army were out there, waiting and scheming to strike again. He could feel it in his guts. But there was one thing Horn and his demon soldiers hadn’t planned for.
Hell Divers.
They would never see the hang gliders until it was too late.
Thunder boomed overhead, rattling the control frame. The wind pushed the sail deeper into the storm until the barrier around the islands swallowed him, blocking his view of the last rig.
Darkness enveloped him like a shell, only to be shattered by lightning strikes across the horizon. Wind pulled and tugged on the balloon, jerking his harness. He prepared to let out helium and start the hunt.
Lightning burst above him. In the residue of fading light, the clouds seemed to churn. He sailed higher into the void, trying to remain calm as thunder boomed like artillery going off.
A warning sensor beeped in his helmet, indicating he was nearing three thousand feet. A glance at his HUD confirmed the other divers had already let helium out of their balloons. They were picking up speed and swooping toward the surface.
Michael did the same thing, using his wrist monitor to start the slow and controlled release of helium. Once it reached 35 percent, a valve closed. The sails caught and propelled him forward. The rig picked up speed, whistling under the storm.
He embraced the wind as he did at the start of a dive. Using the control bars, he eased his glider all the way down to nine hundred feet. The sail carved through the air, over water flecked with whitecaps.
For the first few minutes, the rush of flight was more intense than he had anticipated. There was also more to manage than on a dive. He alternated his gaze from his HUD to the water, making sure he didn’t deviate from his assigned search grid.