“Storms are still ten thousand feet below us, sir,” Eevi replied. “All clear from what I can see.”
“For now,” Timothy said, “but according to the archives, several nukes were detonated in areas we are traversing. I’ve adjusted our course, but we will likely experience an increase in storm activity.”
“Okay,” Les said. “Keep an eye out for hostiles on radar.”
“You really think the machines could have aircraft?” Eevi asked. “There’s zero evidence of that.”
“If they had aircraft, they would have found our airships over the years,” Michael said. “They probably thought we were all dead.”
Les went and sat in his captain’s chair, staring at the section of hull where the portholes had been replaced with lightweight aluminum plates. Michael joined him there for a moment.
Across the world, X would be halfway to Aruba. And neither team knew how many hostiles waited at their targets.
“Everyone remain on high alert,” Les said. “We’re in enemy territory. Anything is possible now.”
TWENTY-NINE
On the voyage to Aruba, Magnolia and Rodger had spent much of the first day in their bunk. In fact, it was almost dark when they finally got up to eat dinner in the mess.
She couldn’t deny how happy she felt. Finally giving herself, and committing to Rodger after so long, was a relief. And her hearing had returned to almost full acuity. Even her charred scalp was healing!
He seemed happy, too, but there were still moments when she found him staring into space. She found herself drifting also, thinking about what the Hell Divers would find in East Africa, and whether she would ever see them again.
She feared for Layla and Bray.
The human race couldn’t afford to lose good men like Michael and Les. There were too few left. She had to hope they would somehow manage to shut the machines down and end the threat once and for all.
Not being there to help them weighed on her, and she felt an absence, something she couldn’t explain.
Both missions needed her, though, and Rodger needed her more than anyone. Without her, he would do something stupid that would get him killed.
She thrust her legs into her jumpsuit while he looked for his glasses.
Magnolia saw them on the deck and scooped them up. Then, still half naked, she placed them gently on his face as a rap sounded on their hatch.
A militia soldier named Brett poked his head inside before she could finish dressing.
“Hey, Mags, Rodge,” he said.
She covered her chest, but Brett remained in the open entryway.
“King Xavier is sparring with Felipe on the deck,” he said. “You guys should come watch.”
“Get out of here!” she snapped.
Brett laughed, then shut the hatch.
“Dickhead,” Rodger muttered.
They threw on clothes and left the quarters. A ladder took them to the upper decks. At the top landing, she put on her helmet over her bandaged head.
The few militia soldiers who had accompanied them on the trip were outside in the darkness, weapons cradled, rain pattering on their armor.
In the center, X was fighting with Felipe. The young Cazador warrior twirled two blunted cutlasses as he circled X.
Mac supervised nearby, leaning on his cane.
Felipe forced X back with several strikes from his cutlasses, which X deflected with his spear, covered in a lightweight aluminum sheath to protect Felipe. The clang of metal on metal rang out.
Felipe lunged and sidestepped with fluid grace, but X appeared slow and sluggish. He was still recovering from his wounds, and he was still getting the hang of the spear.
Magnolia had no idea how he was going to kill Horn with half a spear and half an arm. But he had the will and, as they used to say, he would find a way.
Soon, Magnolia would also find a way to get her revenge, killing Moreto. The mother of the skinwalker prince had caused many of her own people to die, and what they had done to Sloan made Magnolia shudder each time she thought about it. The gruff militia officer had died trying to protect the Vanguard Islands, losing her skin to the monsters. God knew what else the animals had done to her.
Magnolia blocked out the mental images and focused on the sparring session that was starting to look more like a real fight.
Felipe swung his right cutlass low, and X again knocked away the blow. A jab with the left cutlass almost struck X in his chest armor. He jumped back and threw an uppercut with the spear, nearly catching Felipe in the jaw.
“¡Bien!” Mac yelled. “Good!”
The other Barracudas drew closer as the session intensified. Magnolia did the same.
Lightning split the horizon, illuminating the two warriors. X swiped sideways, the blade coming close to Felipe’s neck. Felipe came back with a swing of his right cutlass, which X jumped over.
He landed on both feet but couldn’t do much besides brace himself against the kick that Felipe planted in the center of his chest armor.
Barracudas roared and thumped their spear shafts on the deck.
The impact forced X back. He recovered quickly and threw a left hook that hit Felipe in the jaw.
The young warrior stumbled backward as the Cazador and militia soldiers shouted even louder.
“Immortal!” Magnolia yelled.
“Felipe!” yelled one of the Barracudas.
Mac got between the two, holding up his cane.
“Good,” he said to X. Then he looked at Felipe. “Muy bien.”
“Don’t stop now!” shouted Brett. “It’s just getting good.”
“Get back to work,” Mac said.
“You’re not my CO.”
“Actually, shit-for-brains, Colonel Mac is your CO,” Magnolia called out.
Brett glared her way, then motioned for the soldiers to follow him away from the impromptu fighting ring. The Barracuda warriors returned to their duties, too, and Magnolia went with Rodger to talk to X.
He was shaking hands with Felipe, who smiled and then spat blood on the deck.
“Where you two been?” X asked. “Haven’t seen much of you all day.”
“My head was hurting somethin’ awful,” Magnolia lied.
Rodger simply nodded.
The king looked at each of them, and said, “Meet me in the command center in an hour. We need to go over the intel again.”
“Aye-aye, sir,” Magnolia said.
They went to the mess to get some food while they waited. Imulah was a few people ahead of them in the short line.
“Hey, Imulah,” she said. “Want to sit with us?”
The scribe turned and smiled politely. He joined them at a long metal table. His plate of grilled sea bass smelled heavenly, but Magnolia didn’t have an appetite. Her head was starting to pulse again, and she swallowed another pain pill.
“Not hungry?” Rodger asked.
“You must at least try to eat,” Imulah said. “You will need your energy to fight the skinwalkers.”
“I know.” She swallowed a few bites of fish and vegetables.
The warship rocked slightly, and their plates slid on the table.
“Damn boat doesn’t help my stomach,” Magnolia grumbled. “I really do prefer diving to sailing.”
Rodger looked as if he might reply, then just shoveled food into his mouth.
“What’s your take on the machines?” Magnolia asked Imulah.
He set his fork down and stroked his long beard. “I think that it’s a lie,” he said. “That Horn and his skinwalkers have not joined with them, but I do think they worship them.”
“The Cazadores really can be sick,” Rodger said. “But there are some good ones, like you, Rhino, Sofia—”
“There are a lot of good Cazadores,” Magnolia said. “I grew fond of Lieutenant Alejo in Rio de Janeiro, and General Santiago wasn’t all that bad. They both were very brave men and wanted to kill Horn.”