“I’ve got this,” she said.
X grabbed the halyard to keep the mainsail from flopping around as she raised it toward the top of the straightened mast.
“Almost there!” Mags shouted.
The wind filled the sail, and the Sea Wolf moved faster, or so it seemed. They both took a step back to look at their contraption. For this to work, the line from the speargun had to hold. It meant they wouldn’t be able to use that weapon for its intended purpose, but they had several others and plenty of firepower in the top cabin. The most important thing to do now was keep moving.
And moving they were.
X walked around the mast to take another look at the spear. He stopped when he saw the front of the black sail, and felt a little swell of pride.
“I’ll be damned…”
“What?” Magnolia asked. She joined him before the sail and put her hands on her duty belt, clearly impressed.
“Wow, that looks pretty amazing.”
“Looks kind of like Miles,” X said, studying the sail. Someone back on the Hive had done one hell of a job with the stitching. The face of a wolf towered above them, the deep-yellow eyes looking ahead at the storm clouds, watching out over them.
“Let’s get to work on the other sail,” X said.
At the stern, they followed the same process with the winch and halyard to raise the smaller sail. The wind pummeled them as they worked, but moving together, Magnolia and X finally managed to get it raised.
“Good job, old man,” she said when they finished.
“You, too, kid.”
His words trailed off when he saw the skyline to the southeast. Magnolia finished tightening another rope, but X walked toward the starboard side, where the barbed wire still lined the rail.
“Where you going?” she called out.
X halted next to the rail, wary of any beasts lurking in the dark water. But his eyes weren’t on the whitecaps slapping against the hull—they were on the strange light area in the sky.
On the horizon, diagonal lines streaked down toward the ocean. The sheets of rain seemed so perfect, the view could have been an old-world painting, but this was real.
“Mags, you seeing this?”
She joined him starboard of the mainsail. To the southeast, the storm was definitely a paler shade, almost a light purple.
“What in Hades is that?” she asked.
X held up his wrist monitor and clicked on the cracked screen to pull up a map of their location. They appeared to be northwest of the strange skyline.
“Timothy where are we, exactly?” he asked over the channel.
“East of Puerto Rico, and about fifteen miles northwest of the Virgin Islands, sir.”
“Change course. Head southeast. I want to check something out.”
“Roger, Commander.”
The wind pummeled the sails as the boat turned. X and Magnolia continued to stare at the sky. The shades of purple and light blue streaked across the horizon like a ripe bruise.
“It’s a beacon,” X said.
“How’s that?” Magnolia shot him a sidelong glance.
“Explorers once used the stars like a map to guide them. We have something even better to guide us to the Metal Islands.”
“You think that’s…” Magnolia could not take her eyes away from the strange lightening in the southeast.
“Come on, kid, let’s get back inside. We have work to do.”
She followed him across the slippery deck, looking over her shoulder several times as Timothy piloted the boat through the rough waves.
If this led where X thought it led, they would need to prepare. He stopped before opening the hatch to the cabin, and looked up at the image of the Wolf flapping in the wind.
The Sea Wolves were finally nearing their objective.
“Stay put. It’s too dangerous right now.”
Hearing Layla’s voice, Michael ran faster across the pier despite his injuries. He moved away from the ITC ship where he had left Erin.
He was breaking the cardinal rule of diving on the surface: never split up. But what choice did he have?
He kept his rifle cradled as he moved. Both legs hurt with every step. The impact with the ocean had rubbed muscle against the kneecap, and it felt as if his muscles were grinding over the bone.
“Where are you, Layla?” he said, trying his best not to shout. “Tell me where you are.”
Her voice hissed over the channel. “We’re hiding in the command center, but it’s—”
Another screech sounded, and then the channel went dead.
Michael slowed in the middle of the pier, rain coursing down his visor, breath steaming the inside.
“Son of a bitch.” He wasn’t sure what to do, although he definitely wasn’t going to hide.
He opened a channel to Erin. “Can you make it topside?”
“Yes, Commander.”
“Good. We may need you as a sniper. I’m going into Red Sphere.”
“Figured you would. Be careful, and good luck, Commander.”
“Same to you.”
He continued toward the open doors where Layla and Les had entered. His fast pace across the platform surrounding Red Sphere brought a surge of pain up his knees and thighs, and by the time he reached the garage, he was gritting his teeth. An electronic wail came from inside the building the moment he crossed into the dark garage.
This place was no tomb after all.
The distant electronic discord gave him a chill.
Red Sphere wasn’t an abandoned outpost. Like many other ITC facilities, it was a haven for beasts. He had trusted Captain DaVita just as he had once trusted Captain Jordan and, before him, Captain Ash.
Now the most important woman in the world to him, and arguably one of the most important men left in the world were trapped inside, he could hardly run, and Erin was injured and alone back on the ITC ship.
Sometimes you just had to get it done yourself, even when you weren’t in any shape to do it. Bringing up his rifle, he moved toward the two armored vehicles.
Layla and Les had gone idle on his HUD, but they were still alive. He could see their beacons; neither moved. She had severed the channel to keep quiet, he realized.
He slowed to a walk and skirted both vehicles, clearing the room in a quick sweep.
Light flickered beyond the open door.
The other divers had successfully turned on the battery backup, but they had also woken something best left dormant. But how could anything have survived here so long?
In his mind’s eye, he saw the bone pile back on the ITC ship.
The Sirens must have moved back into Red Sphere after exhausting the supplies and food source up here. It was the only explanation. He moved through a door into the hallway. Recessed lights lit some sections of the passage, while other sections were in shadow.
Rifle butt nestled against the sweet spot in his shoulder, he stepped onto the tile floor. A body lying in the intersection ahead made his heart thud, but then a flash of light from the open elevator shaft illuminated skeletal remains.
It wasn’t Layla or Les.
He moved forward until he reached the bones. The left side of the passage was blocked, but the right was clear. He didn’t stop to check the remains and continued with his finger on the trigger guard.
A howling sounded outside the garage behind him, but it was just the wind. The electronic wail from earlier was gone, replaced by what sounded like clicking joints, almost mechanical in nature, like some sort of freak robotic spider.
Another body lay ahead.
This time, he bent down to check the helmet. The cracked visor opened to a nose and empty eye sockets. The dried skin was stretched in a mask of horror.
Michael stood, wincing in pain, and checked his HUD again. The beacons were blinking from left to right.
Layla and Les were moving.
He still couldn’t tell where they were in the facility, but he decided to try the door that stood ajar on his right, opening into a stairwell.