Nicholas Smith - Allegiance

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.

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.

Open shutters revealed potted flowers and herbs growing on windowsills. An elderly woman sucked on a cigarette, watching the Barracudas.

Rhino spotted Isaiah through an open window, wearing a hood that shadowed his eyes and covered his greasy hair. He nodded as Rhino passed underneath.

Ahead, Mac opened a hatch to an interior hallway. As the four men entered, Rhino got a view of two Praetorian Guards standing sentry under a crooked wooden sign that read, “The Purple Pearl . ”

Though helmetless, the Cazador soldiers wore full armor and held spears. Swords hung from their belts, and red capes draped their shoulders.

Rhino recognized both scarred faces and steeled himself. These warriors knew how to wield sword and spear. The men inside would as well, but they would be no match for Isaiah’s arrows, the Immortal, and the Barracudas.

Mac and Felipe stopped just before the intersection with the next alley. After sneaking a glance around the edge, Mac held up three fingers, indicating the number of Praetorian Guards at the back entrance of the Purple Pearl.

Rhino squeezed past Felipe. “I’ll lead the way,” he said. Opening his robe, he pulled out the two shafts of his double-headed spear and joined them together with a click.

Mac hit a button on his cane, bringing out the blade, and X unsheathed his sword.

Rhino gave the nod. This was it. Time to kill that bag of shark chum.

Felipe came strolling around the corner—just a guy heading for the brothel.

“ ¡Alto ahí! ” shouted one of the three guards.

Footsteps clanked on the metal deck, and two guards strode through the intersection, spears in hand.

“Hey, bub,” X said. “That whorehouse clean?”

Both guards stopped and peered into the shadowed alley. Rhino thrust his spear through the chest of the guard on the left, and X slashed the other across the neck. Blood spurted out, painting both Rhino and the king.

Felipe had turned and came running back. He threw both of his daggers. Rhino heard a muffled cry, then another thud.

By the time Rhino rounded the corner, the third guard was dead, and Felipe was wiping the two knives on his tangerine cape.

Mac moved ahead of the group, pulling out a key to the back entry of the brothel. He unlocked it and gently pushed the door open.

Rhino’s spear tip went inside first. Felipe drew a cutlass and went next.

Candles lit the corners of the dark room, illuminating a dozen stalls cordoned off by drapes. An empty desk and two couches occupied the front of the room. Curtains covered the only window, and the metal front door was closed.

By now, Isaiah would have taken down the guards in front and would be on his way to help. That meant they had only one Cazador left to kill.

The Barracudas filed inside the brothel. Rhino used the tip of his spear to pull back a drape of the first space on the left, while X did the same going the other direction.

Rhino found a mattress and bedside table but no Vargas.

Rhythmic grunting came from across the room, and Mac pointed his cane at a draped stall.

Nodding, Rhino took point, X on his right flank.

Killing a man while he got his rocks off wasn’t the bravest way to do it, but it would save a lot of problems later on, and Rhino didn’t feel any compunctions whatever. Ending the threat Vargas posed would save many lives, and when Sofia did return, they would be closer to the freedom they both had dreamed of. His heart thumped at the thought of seeing his woman soon.

He approached the drape where the grunting was coming from. Reaching out with his spear shaft, Rhino prepared to pull it back with the blade, but movement just behind the bottom of the drape stopped him. He could see boot soles in the half inch of space just underneath. Not just one pair.