Then he turned and bent down, lowering himself to the next ledge. The window was shaded, but a light inside messed with his night-vision optics.
Michael turned them off, and in the moment it took to process what he saw behind the glass, he gave an astonished gasp.
“What?” Arlo whispered from above. “What do you see?”
A little boy holding a tattered stuffed elephant stood inside, looking at Michael. He narrowed his big green eyes, then waved.
Several other people came running over, all of them covered in ash and grime. There had to be ten of them.
Michael waved them back.
One of the men inside understood and herded the group of filthy workers away from the glass. Michael aimed his laser rifle at the center and fired a bolt. Cracks spiderwebbed out from the hole.
Slinging his rifle, Michael used his robotic fist to finish the job. On the third punch, the glass shattered and rained to the ground.
He entered the room, which ran the length of the building. Bars segmented the long space into cages, each holding a dozen people—young, old, white, brown.
Michael froze as the implications set in. There had to be a hundred people on this level, and there could be even more below this floor. Chatter broke out, and the people in the cage Michael had entered stared at his robotic arm with wide eyes, like terrified animals.
“It’s okay,” Michael said, raising his gloved hand. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
His words did little to curb their fear. Or his.
Panicked voices came from the other cages as people huddled close to get a look at Michael. He moved out of the way to let Arlo in.
“What in the hell… ?” Arlo said. “Where did all these people come from?”
Michael had an idea, but he was too worried about the machines to stop and theorize.
“Quiet,” Michael said, bringing a finger to his helmet. “Please, you have to be…”
In the next cage, a middle-aged man with a long beard and sunken cheeks spoke. So did a gaunt gray-haired woman. He didn’t recognize either language. Maybe French and German?
“Does anyone speak English?” he asked.
More voices in different languages. The noise made him cringe. He held up a hand again, trying to quiet them. People crowded the cages, jostling to get a look.
Someone whistled, and silence filled the long space.
Several people in the cage across from Michael moved aside for a shirtless man with a faded bird tattoo on his chest. He grabbed the bars of his cage.
“I speak English,” he said.
Michael and Arlo walked over to the bars of the cage, and Arlo fished a lock-pick kit from his vest.
Something told Michael this man had survived horrors as bad as anything X had seen.
“I am Commander Everhart,” Michael said, “from the Vanguard Islands. We’re here to destroy the machines, and we’re going to get you out of here.”
“I’ll be damned,” the man said. “We thought we were all that was left of mankind.”
He gestured out to the other cages.
“We’re passengers from the ITC Victory, ITC Requiem, and ITC Malenkov all brought here under the premise of salvation, saying the war was over.”
The man looked back to Michael and patted his chest. “Never thought I’d see one of us again.”
Michael saw the tattoo as the man pulled his hand away.
Not just any tattoo. It was a Raptor.
“You’re a Hell Diver?” Michael stammered.
The man sighed. “A lifetime ago. I’m Kade Long.”
“Kade, this is Arlo Wand, and there are four more of us out there. We need to know where the machines’ mainframe is.”
Kade shook his head. “Did you see that metal tower next door with no windows?”
Michael nodded.
“That’s your target, Commander,” Kade said. “But the only way in is through the machines, and nothing short of a nuke set off inside is going to destroy their mainframe.”
Arlo pulled the lock pick away.
“Screw this,” he said. “Just use your laser, sir.”
Michael motioned everyone back and fired a bolt. It blasted through the lock, punching into the floor. The gate swung open, and Kade stepped through.
Reaching back, Michael unholstered the pistol X had given him. He handed it to Kade.
“Thank you, Commander,” he said. “I never thought anyone would come for us.”
“Don’t thank me until we get you out of here. Let’s start with freeing everyone else. They can’t kill us all…”
His words trailed off because the machines could damn well kill everyone in this room if they wanted.
Michael directed Arlo to the steel hatch while he and Kade walked down the passage between cages. Kade spoke to specific people in each, mostly older men and a few women.
One by one, Michael shot the locks, freeing the prisoners.
The strongest men and women converged behind Michael and Kade, eager to fight for their freedom.
At the final cage, Kade beamed a yellow smile. Two prisoners helped an old man with white hair to his feet. A threadbare white uniform hung over his bony frame.
“Captain,” Kade said.
The man squinted at Michael and reached out his hand.
“Commander Everhart, meet Captain Rolo,” Kade said.
“No time for introductions,” Rolo mumbled. “We have to get out of here.”
Michael nodded. “How many machines are in this building?” he asked.
“Normally, none,” Kade replied. “They only come to get us for work in the factories. But after those explosions, who knows?”
Kade helped Rolo as they worked their way through the crowd of filthy people in the passage outside the open cages. All eyes were on Michael as if he were some sort of divine savior.
The boy with the stuffed elephant toy reached up as Michael joined Arlo, who was working on getting the steel exit open.
“Alton wants to know if you’re going to save us all,” said Kade.
Michael looked over at the boy. “I’m going to try, Alton.”
He patted the kid on the head, then froze when he heard a humming. Just as a drone rose outside the shattered window, Michael yanked the kid back from a flurry of laser bolts.
Screaming filled the room as people rushed away, tripping and falling.
Michael aimed his laser rifle at the drone and fired, blowing it away from the window.
Amid the screaming, he never heard the door open. When he turned, a defector stood in the opening, holding Arlo up by his neck.
THIRTY-NINE
Magnolia woke up on the ground, tasting metal. She opened her eyes to a blurred view of dirt and grit covered in ash.
Taking another breath of smoky air, she realized she didn’t have her helmet. She tried to look around for it, but her eyelids seemed the only thing she could control. The rest of her felt paralyzed. And her head hurt something awful.
She heard a faint clanking, followed by what sounded like grunts. Then people speaking in Spanish. Male voices, muffled by breathing apparatuses.
A familiar gruff voice said, “Don’t touch her!”
Magnolia blinked as strong hands hoisted her off the ground. As her motor function returned, she craned her neck to see an alley between two rusted buildings.
Armored bodies lay crumpled in the dirt between her and a flatbed truck with a shipping container on the back. She blinked again at the sight of a brooding beast with double-jointed kneecaps that ended in barbs.
This can’t be real.
The monster looked in her direction, or so it seemed. She realized that it wasn’t looking at her—or anything else, for that matter. Half its face was burned away.