In just over ten seconds, Michael had killed four men, but the others quickly homed in on his position. Arrows flew, and gunshots rang out from Sofia’s position.
More gunfire joined the echoing din. Michael cursed their luck. These fuckers had guns too, and that changed the calculus. He expected rounds to start pinging off the wall over his head, but none came.
Not only gunfire but also laser bolts were coming from the other side of the chamber.
Oh, hell yes!
Magnolia and Rodger must have been stalking this second group. That explained why some of them were injured. But where was the rest of their team?
He helped them by laying down covering fire.
The skinwalkers fanned out, launching arrows in all directions. The people from the bunker tried to wriggle away, but they were all bound with rope.
Michael slid down into the chamber and started to cut their bonds. He freed a man and handed him a knife, motioning to cut the others free. The guy understood and went to work.
Another prisoner had already broken out of his restraints somehow and ran with outstretched hands at a skinwalker. The soldier turned and loosed an arrow into the guy’s gray suit.
Michael took the shooter down with a laser bolt that cut his bow in half and flashed through his chest. Then he looked for the leader with the unicorn helmet. He was making his way toward Arlo and Edgar, both axes in hand.
“No, you don’t,” Michael said, firing a bolt that sent one of the axes spinning away.
Screams echoed through the chamber as two skinwalkers ran at Michael with swords drawn. He cut them down with laser bolts; then his gun overheated again.
Michael drew the pistol X had given him and aimed for the leader, but by the time he spotted the man again, his men were trying to pull him away. A third joined in, grabbing him while Michael fired several bullets.
The group of skinwalkers fell in behind them, shooting arrows and guns to cover their leader’s retreat. Michael got down to avoid the fire. He squeezed off more shots, thinning out the rear guard, but they whisked the leader away into a side tunnel.
Across the chamber, another ally had joined Magnolia and Rodger. The tall figure fired an assault rifle, picking off stragglers.
Michael got up and ran over to Arlo and Edgar, changing the magazine of his pistol along the way. When he got to them, Edgar was unconscious, but Arlo was awake. He drooled blood and looked up, his perfect smile ruined by several missing teeth.
“You came back,” he mumbled.
Michael ripped into his med pack and began pulling out dressings to stop the bleeding from Arlo’s side.
“You’re going to be fine, man. Just hang on.”
“I’m sorry,” Arlo said with quivering blue lips. “I screwed up.”
“You screwed up only if you die.” Michael pushed gauze against the wound and taped off the sides. “Just breathe, okay?”
Arlo nodded. “Sir…”
“Don’t talk.”
“But, sir… I really wanted a new nickname.”
“If you live, I’ll give you one,” Michael said.
Sofia ran over to help Arlo and Edgar, giving Michael an opportunity to call in support. He bumped on his comms for the first time on the mission.
“Captain Mitchells, this is Raptor One,” he said. “We need evac as soon as possible. We have multiple wounded, and…” He looked at the survivors on the ground behind him. “… at least thirty people who need transport, over. Maybe a few more.”
“I’m already here,” said a voice.
Michael looked across the chamber, past the glowing floral “heart.” The tall figure he had seen earlier was wearing Hell Diver armor.
“Captain,” Michael said. “You’re a sight for sore eyes.”
Magnolia and Rodger ran over.
“The airship is topside,” Les said. “We have to get everyone out of here fast, before the monsters come back.”
Michael wasn’t sure which monsters he was talking about this time: human or mutant.
He looked back at the bunker survivors, huddled in their gray jumpsuits and staring at the Hell Divers as if they were gods, like the statue they had passed on the dive in.
To a society that had known only demons, perhaps they were.
TWENTY-SEVEN
The trading post was doing a brisk business. It swarmed with people of all ages. Young and old browsed the offerings of stalls packed with fresh produce and fish. Neat rows of sea bass were displayed in one booth, under an overhang protecting them from the warming temperatures. Buckets of live shrimp and lobster made up the next stall. Antennae stuck above the rims, waving back and forth as if beckoning potential customers.
A woman with a hatchet cut the head off a chicken that continued to squirm and flap on her chopping block. Another seller handed lettuce and radishes to a sky person who had come to shop.
Rhino looked away, distracted by thoughts of Sofia. She was still alive out in the wastes, and he held on to hope that she was going to come home safely. If he wanted to see her again, he needed to focus.
Just focus on the plan.
They had already modified it once after coming up a ladder to an interior passage guarded by a patrol of grunt Cazador warriors. That forced them into the open trading areas. Rhino tried to stick close to a group of scribes and monks wearing the same clothing as the Barracudas. The sky people in the crowd, wearing longer clothing to cover their sensitive skin, also helped them blend in.
But Rhino didn’t like being out in the open with the masses. His size could give him away, even without his armor. At least, he had managed to fit his double-headed spear in two pieces beneath his robe. Carrying it would have gotten him a lot of looks and whispers.
The scribes went left down a passage, and Mac led the team into another alley. He navigated the familiar corridors for the group, and Felipe followed, grinning. The young man was happy to be away from Elysium for a few days and eager for his first kill.
Rhino kept a reasonable distance, and X trailed just behind, head down.
They worked their way through the third floor, toward a stairwell that would take them down to the outer booths of the main trading floor. Most of the cages here were empty today, but several contained indentured servants who hadn’t sold in last night’s auction.
A group of potential buyers had already gathered to inspect them. The skinny men were going to be a tough sell. In this shape, they wouldn’t make good laborers or warriors. If they were lucky, they would end up on a fishing trawler or working in a garden.
Mac entered a stairwell and led the team to the first floor, and from there to an alley between some of the less popular booths. It was close to the area where Rhino had found him a few days ago.
Signs hung from the bulkheads and shop fronts in the next passage, which intersected with another alleyway. Mac stopped to buy a skewer of seasoned shrimp. He bit one off and handed the skewer to Felipe, whose sharp teeth stripped off another shrimp.
“They got shine here?” X asked, stepping up beside Rhino.
“Not the type you’re probably used to.”
“If you’re talking about wine, you’re right,” X said. “Tastes good, but it’s basically old fruit juice if you ask me.”
“I’m sure we both will need a drink or ten after this is over.”
“But can you keep up?” X raised a brow. “Nah, highly unlikely.”
You’d be surprised, Rhino thought. He felt relieved that the king wasn’t holding a grudge, but now was not the time for jokes.
Mac took them past tin-roofed shacks to a corridor the size of an old-world street. Shop fronts framed both sides on the first level, but the three floors above were mostly apartments and single-family dwellings.