Wolves

SEVENTEEN

The waves crashed against the Sea Wolf’s bow, sending up plumes of spray. Magnolia tightened the strap against her chest, and looked over at X.

“The sails will hold,” he reassured her.

“But what about our friends?” she asked. “Will they be okay?”

X sighed. “I… I don’t know. But there’s nothing we can do for them right now.”

“So we just have to sit here and wait to hear from Katrina?”

He gave a silent nod.

Magnolia shook her head sadly. X had spent a decade on the surface, waiting to be rescued, but she couldn’t wait a few hours to hear about her friends. That was the difference between them, and why he had survived all this time.

Her mind replayed Katrina’s transmission from an hour earlier.

“Team Raptor is under attack by unknown hostiles.”

The guilt filled her with dread.

If they died, it was on her. She had sent the information that encouraged the captain to send divers there.

And it had been a trap.

The next transmission explained what Team Raptor was facing at Red Sphere.

“AIs,” she said quietly. “I just can’t believe it’s true.”

“Pepper, you got some explaining to do,” X growled under his breath. “Seems to me like you’re hiding stuff from us, and if I find out…” He made a cracking sound with his tongue to mimic a snapping neck.

“Sir, I assure you, if I had known that Red Sphere was compromised by those machines, I would have informed you. And my counterpart on the Hive would have informed Captain DaVita, as well.”

X looked at Magnolia. Neither of them had told Pepper his counterpart was shut down. And she wasn’t about to…

“Your counterpart is offline, Pepper, and I’m about to fry your hard drive, too, unless you start talking.”

Timothy paused for two full seconds before responding to X’s words. “I don’t know how else to explain this. Whatever records existed must have been destroyed during the Blackout.”

X didn’t look convinced, and Magnolia certainly wasn’t.

“You heard some of those transmissions from Red Sphere,” Magnolia said. “Explain to me why AIs would wear human and animal bones. That doesn’t sound like a machine thing to do. But I suppose it takes one to know one.”

Timothy paused again.

“Spill it, Pepper, or you’re going to sleep forever,” X said.

“CEO Tyron Red built one type of machine that was top secret,” Timothy replied. “This particular hybrid model was commissioned by the military and a small supply of two hundred units were purchased in the year two thousand forty. They were named DEF-Nine and were designed to hunt and kill enemies. The model looks humanoid, but they are far different from other units built to fight alongside human soldiers in times of war.”

“Show us,” Magnolia said.

“One moment.”

“What does DEF-Nine stand for?” X asked.

“Defense Unit Nine. This was the ninth version of the machine,” Timothy replied.

X and Magnolia exchanged another glance. The metal hatch covering the broken windshield rattled as the bow slapped down hard off a wave.

She tried to relax in her seat, but the constant rocking and shaking were making her ill. The lump on her head didn’t help. The swelling had gone down, but a migraine had settled behind her right eye, and it made her entire head pulse.

While they waited, Magnolia studied X in the weak light emanating from the control panel on the dashboard. The faint glow illuminated his features, and she could see his age now more than ever: the scars lining his face like tattoos, the crow’s-feet framing the dark eyes that had seen more horrors of the real world than anyone else alive. All those horrors and all his experiences would have driven an average man mad or killed him.

But not X.

He had the heart of a warrior and, in some ways, a saint. She saw it in the way he gently patted Miles on the head and the way he always put others before himself. The bond he shared with the dog made Magnolia envious. She had never been that close to anyone over the years, whether friend or family. Everyone she loved had been lost to the apocalyptic world. And when she finally opened her heart to Rodger, he, too, had died.

“How far out are we, Pepper?” X asked. “This tin coffin can’t take much more of this pounding.”

“At our current speed, our target destination of the western edge of the Virgin Islands should take another forty-five minutes, assuming the wind remains at—”

“All right, got it, Pepper. Thanks.” X took the controls. “I’ve got it from here.”

“Wait, sir, I thought you wanted to see photos of the D—”

“We do,” Magnolia interrupted.

A beeping came from the dashboard. Magnolia looked at a monitor displaying an old-world video of a factory. An assembly line of humanoid-shaped robots rolled out on a conveyor belt inside a massive room with a high ceiling.

“These are the DEF-Nine units,” Timothy said. “As you can see, this is in the beginning stages of their design.”

Robotic arms along the track welded parts onto the frame as the machines continued down the line. Anatomically shaped plates were applied to their extremities and torsos, making them look a bit like Roman warriors from the picture books. Visors were fastened over the slits where their eyes would have been. Finally, a battery unit was inserted into the chest socket. It flickered on, emanating an orange glow that also flickered out of the mouth and visor.

“The DEF-Nine units were built for one purpose,” said Timothy, “to kill their enemies in barbaric ways so as to strike fear in future enemies. Here’s a video I found in the archives of a prewar mission.”

A video showing three of the machines in a jungle came online. Their plated bodies were covered in camouflage… and something else.

“What are they wearing?” Magnolia whispered.

The machines slunk through dense foliage surrounding a small fishing village set on a coastal beach. Smoke billowed out of chimneys into the sky as the robots fanned out. A fourth robot’s video feed captured the scene. Numbers and data scrolled across the bottom of the screen.

X leaned closer to the monitor. “Is that human flesh?”

Magnolia looked closer, confirming the answer with a nod. All the machines were wearing bloody patches of skin over their armored bodies. Blood and mud dripped down their metallic hides.

The pack entered the village, screeching in electronic frequencies as they approached a group of men and women standing around an open fire and roasting what looked like a pig. The first robot grabbed a man reaching for a rifle and tore his arm off in a single pull.

Screams followed, both human and electronic.

None of the machines used the weapons attached to their extremities. They didn’t need them. Their powerful hands were all they needed to tear the first group of humans limb from limb.

They quickly moved into the village. A shirtless man with a shotgun emerged from one of the huts. He fired off several shots, but the bullets only dented the armor.

The closest machine picked the man up by the throat and, with its other hand, ripped away his nose and face like a hunk of cheese. Then it dropped the still twitching man and smoothed the skin over its metal face.

The video feed from the fourth machine zoomed in on the glowing orange eyes that burned through the eyeholes of the stolen face.

“Katrina sent Tin, Layla, and Giraffe to a place with these things?” X snorted. “What was she thinking?”

Magnolia remembered to exhale. The guilt continued to sink through her as she watched the machines sweep through the village, slaughtering anyone they came across, even the children and animals.

“We have to turn around and head back for Cuba,” she said. “We can’t leave them to die there.”

“You don’t get it, do you?” X said. He looked up at the overhead. “Pepper, how far away from Red Sphere are we, and how long will it take to get there?”

“Approximately seven hundred forty miles away. At this speed, it would take us about thirty-four hours to reach Red Sphere, assuming the damaged mainmast doesn’t break. If that occurs, then—”

“We get it,” X said. “They won’t last another hour out there if they don’t escape. But there’s nothing we can do. Their fate rests in Katrina’s hands. Only she can save them, but doing so would likely put Deliverance at risk if she tries to lower through that storm they reported on the dive in.”

Magnolia saw the pain in his eyes. The despair. She felt it, too. You killed your friends, she said to herself.

“I’m going to see if I can get hold of Katrina,” X said. He picked up the radio handset. “Deliverance, this is the Sea Wolf. Do you copy?”

Static crackled.

He looked over at Magnolia again, but she turned to wipe away a tear.

The video continued playing on-screen, but she tapped the monitor to shut it off. She couldn’t bear to watch any more.

“Deliverance, this is X, aboard the Sea Wolf. Do you copy? Over.”

“Roger. This is Ensign White. Go ahead, X.”

“Where’s Captain DaVita?”

“She’s not here, sir.”

“What do you mean, ‘not there’?” X’s brows scrunched together, almost closing the gap left by the scar.

“She dived to the surface with several other divers,” Bronson replied gruffly.

“What?” Magnolia said.

“Captain DaVita dived to help the other divers.”

X lowered his head in defeat. “Have you heard anything from them?”

“Negative. They’ve been out of radio contact for about an hour now. How are things on the open water?”

“Shitty.”

“Stay safe out there, Commander. You’re our last hope.”

X slammed the handset against its cradle, startling Miles and making Magnolia flinch.

“This is why I didn’t fucking want them going to Cuba!” he yelled. “Now Katrina is putting her life in jeopardy, God damn it.”

It was the second such outburst Magnolia had seen, but this time, she deserved it and more. She remained calm, holding his fiery gaze.

“I’m sorry,” she said.

He snorted again and wiped his nose on his sleeve. “Sorry don’t cut it, kid.” He unlocked his harness and stood. “Flesh guns won’t do shit against those AIs. Their only chance of survival is using their boosters to get back through the storm. And those ain’t good odds.”

X stormed toward the hatch.

“Where are you going?” she asked.

“For some fresh air.”

“It’s a monsoon out there.”

Miles got up and followed X out into the passageway, but he turned and said, “Sit and stay.”

The dog obeyed and watched his handler leave, letting out a low whine.

“Don’t do that, Miles,” X said over his shoulder as he climbed the ladder to the second deck, vanishing from sight.

A hatch opened and slammed shut, and a few minutes later, the hatch of the staging room opened and slammed.

Magnolia tried to control her breathing. She felt as though she might throw up. After counting to ten, she tried to meditate. But nothing worked.

She was definitely going to be sick.

Unbuckling her harness, she decided to go back to her quarters. She grabbed a plastic pail and made it out to the passageway before throwing up.

She got down on both knees, her stomach roiling and wrenching.

The acid burned her mouth.

She vomited a second time.

A hatch above opened and closed again, and footfalls clicked above her. She clutched her stomach with one hand and closed her eyes to block out the stars floating before her vision.

Behind her, Miles let out another whine. The dog nudged up by her side, sniffing and then licking the salt off her arm.

“Mags!” X shouted. “Mags, get up here!”

She opened her eyes to see him looking down from the staging area.

“Kid, you got to see this shit. Hurry.”

She wiped her mouth off with her fist and stopped in the bathroom to dump the pail of vomit. Then she grabbed a drink of water and slogged down the passage to the ladder. Climbing made her dizzy, and by the time she got to the staging room, she was seeing stars again.

X was waiting there and helped her up.

“You okay?” he asked.

“No.”

“You still gotta see this.” He led her to the hatch and opened it. Then he stepped back and gestured for her to go outside. The waves were still slamming the boat, but the rain had stopped.

She blinked and raised a hand to shield her eyes from the bright gray sky. Maybe she really was seeing things now.

X was suiting up behind her. She could hear the clanking of armor, but she didn’t turn. Her eyes were on the sky and the rays of gold streaking down to the surface.

The tar-colored waves had magically turned teal green—water so clear she could see through it.

The ocean wasn’t black after all.

“Is it real?” she asked.

X laughed. “I sure as hell hope so.”

“Erin…” Michael moaned. He tried to move the stump of his right arm, but pain ripped up his shoulder.

“Don’t move,” Layla said. Her voice carried strength, but Michael could tell by the worry on her face that she was close to tears. They had lost Erin and Ramon back at Red Sphere, and he was in bad shape.

It still hadn’t quite hit him that the arm was gone. But perhaps that was due to the pain.

“Where the hell are the medical supplies?” she said as she rifled drawers and cabinets throughout the room.

Edgar sat on a bed without a mattress across the medical bay, his head bowed, dreadlocks curtaining his face. Blood had dried on his armored chest and leg pads. Michael wasn’t sure how bad the injuries were, but Edgar wasn’t complaining.

“How you doin’?” Michael asked.

Edgar brushed the locks away from his face. “Ramon’s dead. He didn’t even have a chance.”

“I’m sorry, brother…” Michael let his words trail off, not knowing what else to say.

Edgar rubbed his forehead. “I can’t believe he’s gone. Just like that. I couldn’t do anything to help him.” His eyes met Michael’s.

“I’m sorry about your cousin, but there’s nothing you could have done. Just like there wasn’t anything we could do for Erin. We’re Hell Divers, and Hell Divers die. She knew the risk.” He stopped himself short of saying that Ramon had known the risks, too. Now wasn’t the time, and the pain in his shoulder made it hard to concentrate.

“I’m sorry about Erin,” Edgar said. “I know she was your friend, Commander.”

“She was a true Hell Diver,” Michael said. He wasn’t that close to Erin, not as close as Les, but he had liked her. Even after Florida, when she came back with attitude and a chip on her shoulder. Not that Michael blamed her. He had felt the same way after his father died on the surface.

He drew in a breath, blinked at the bright overhead light, and closed his eyes. Every time he did, he saw the image of the machine with the cow skull, firing a laser through his arm.

Knowing that it was still back at Red Sphere lying on the concrete stairwell was an odd feeling. A piece of him—an important piece of his body that had been with him his entire life.

Layla continued going through the cabinets on the bulkheads, cursing, opening and slamming them, and cursing some more.

“There’s nothing here,” she said. “It’s all been raided.”

Michael looked over, groaning. The pain was deep inside his arm, as if his bone marrow were on fire. Sweat beaded on his forehead. He swallowed and tried to relax on the hard bed.

The hatch squealed open, and Les ducked through the entryway, his brick-red tufts scraping the metal arch.

“Commander Everhart,” he said. “How are you feeling?”

Michael tried to hold still. He was close to hyperventilating from the pain, but he managed to nod.

“The laser cauterized the wound, fortunately,” Layla said. “But we need to find something soon to prevent infection. Same thing for Edgar. He’s got shrapnel wounds from the blast.”

“It ain’t nothin’,” Edgar said.

Layla shot him a sideways glance. “It’ll be something if it gets infected.”

“I’ll check with the others to see if they have anything in their gear,” Les said.

“Where are the others?” she replied.

“Trey and Jaideep are patrolling and searching the other decks to make sure the ship is clear. Katrina’s on the bridge.”

“How are we doing on power?” Layla said, still going through drawers. “Didn’t look good when I got the ship running earlier.”

“It’s not.” Les hesitated, scratching the red stubble on his chin. “This vessel runs off four nuclear fuel cells. Looks like they’re all around a ten percent charge. Not sure how long that will last us, and we have a major problem. The satellite uplink we were using to connect with Deliverance got left on Red Sphere in our escape.”

Layla looked up. “So we have no way of contacting Deliverance?”

“Correct.”

Michael gritted his teeth and sat up on the bed.

“So what’s Katrina’s plan?” he asked.

“She said we sail until we can break through the electrical disturbance and contact Deliverance with our helmet comms.”

Edgar gripped his belly and walked over from his bed to Michael’s bedside while Layla moved to a rack of lockers. She pulled on one of the handles, grunting. “Come on, you worthless pile of junk.”

The handle broke off in her hand, and she staggered backward. Then she gave the door a kick with her steel-toed boot, making a loud bang. The doors popped open, revealing several shelves stacked with medical supplies.

“Here we go,” she whispered.

Michael gritted his teeth through another wave of pain. This time, though, the aches seemed to be coming from the arm that was no longer there. But how could that be?

Phantom pains.

Tears stung his eyes. The dull ache was worse than anything he had experienced yet. He blinked the tears away, taking in deep breaths until he was hyperventilating.

“Hold on, Tin, I think I found something,” Layla said.

“I’ll go see if there are any med packs upstairs,” Les said.

A tall figure ducked through the hatch before he could leave. Trey walked into the room and said, “Ship is clear of life-forms and AIs, but we’re still searching the lower decks for supplies.”

“I wonder what happened to the original crew,” Layla said.

“Probably landed at Red Sphere like we did, not knowing the defectors were inside,” Les replied. “But how did the machines get there, and why didn’t they ever leave if killing humans is their purpose?”

“No humans left to kill maybe,” Layla said. “All that matters is they don’t have a way to follow us. No one saw any aircraft back there, right?”

Les shook his head. “None at all.”

“I have to get back to patrol, but I wanted to check on the commander,” Trey said. He walked over to Michael and took his left hand. “You okay, brother?”

Michael swallowed again and tried to nod.

Layla walked back to his bedside with a bottle of gel. “It’s really old, but the container is still sealed.”

Michael blinked through more tears to take a look at the bottle. The gel was the same kind they used in place of sutures to seal deep wounds and prevent infection. And it burned like hell.

She slowly unwrapped his bandage to the scent of burned flesh.

He craned his neck to look down at the wound.

“Look at me, Tin,” Layla said.

The ship groaned slightly and the overhead light flickered as they changed course. Layla put on a pair of plastic gloves and squeezed out some of the gel on a finger. “This is going to burn pretty bad, Michael. You might even black out.”

Trey squeezed Michael’s left hand.

“If I do, tell Katrina I know what we have to do,” he said.

“What’s that?”

“We have to find the Sea Wolf.”