Nicholas Smith - Deliverance

“Looks like a real queen bitch,” Layla added after taking another look at the screen. “I never saw anything like it.”

Rodger leaned down for a closer look. “This is one hell of a monster. It’s got to stretch over a hundred miles of coastline.”

“One hundred and thirty miles of coastline, approximately,” Timothy confirmed. “The weather sensors are online now, so I can break it down in feet and inches if you would like.”

“No, that’s okay,” Michael said. He massaged the bridge of his nose and drew in a breath. “We’re going to have to put down on the edge and trek in. No way in hell we’re going to dive through that.”

Rodger nudged Magnolia in the side. “See? Told you, Mags.”

She rolled her eyes. “That’s actually not what you said.”

“Sure, it is. You never listen to what I—”

Michael snapped his fingers. “You’re too smart to be that dumb, Rodger Dodger. Now, stop arguing for a damn second. I know you’re all tired, and we’re still grieving, but Weaver and Pipe sacrificed their lives so we could continue with this mission.”

“I’m sorry,” Magnolia said.

“Yeah, sorry, Commander,” Rodger said.

Michael nodded. “There are still multiple secondary systems that aren’t working, and we’re running low on food and water. This isn’t the Hive. There’s no farm or water-treatment plant.”

“I don’t mean to be a nag,” Rodger said, putting a hand on his gut, “but I’m really hungry. Not sure I can work much more without eating something.”

“We all are,” Michael said. “So let’s stop complaining and suck it up.” He looked over at Timothy’s hologram. “Bring up a map of the area. I want to identify the best LZ.”

“One moment, Commander.” The hologram vanished and then reappeared at the helm. A map bloomed across the white surface. The divers gathered around behind the leather chairs that faced the island.

“This is the source of the SOS,” Timothy said.

A red X marked the map. The irony wasn’t lost on Magnolia. The spot was where their own X had last transmitted from.

“It is an old city called Miami,” Timothy said. “The storm covers much of what’s left of the eastern coastline.”

“What do you mean, ‘left’?” Michael asked.

“I’ve retrieved the most accurate map I could find in the database. But much has changed since that map was created. Most of what was once southern Florida is now permanently underwater.”

“So how the hell did X get there?” Rodger asked.

“He’s X,” Magnolia said with a shrug. “If any human could make it across a place like that, it’s him.”

“He’s still alive,” Michael said firmly. “I can feel it.”

There was a moment of silence. Magnolia had a feeling that Rodger and Layla weren’t necessarily believers, but it didn’t matter now. They had come too far to give up.

“I have identified several potential landing zones,” Timothy said. Three more red marks showed up on the map. “No matter which one you choose, you will have to traverse at least thirty miles through swampland.”

“Sounds lovely,” Layla said.

Magnolia had heard tales from other divers—legends passed down from the time when there were more airships in the sky—but no one from the Hive had ever traveled there. The thought of exploring it made her heart quicken from fear and excitement.

She reached for Rodger’s hand but stopped short and slipped her hand into her coverall pockets instead. She had spent her entire life being afraid of getting close to people after losing her family, her lover, then X, and now Weaver. Everyone she had ever cared about ended up dying.

Not everyone , she thought. X is still alive .

Her eyes flitted to Michael and Layla, who stood side by side, studying the topographical holo map over the center island. They had found each other when they were just kids. Somehow, they were still together—much longer than most couples. And while Magnolia felt a connection with Rodger, she didn’t have room in her heart after it had been shattered so many times.

“I’d like to study the potential LZs before I make my decision,” Michael said. “In the meantime, we need to find food and water. Without supplies, we won’t be able to trek three miles, let alone thirty.”

Magnolia followed the others around the stations in the central island. She stopped when she saw motion on the radar screen. Something was moving near the right edge, in or over the ocean, which made no sense.

“What the hell is that?” she said loudly enough to make Michael stop and look over his shoulder.

“What the hell is what ?”

When Magnolia looked back down, the blinking dot on the radar had vanished.

“Timothy, are you picking up any contacts in that storm?” she asked.

“Negative,” said Timothy’s voice over the PA system.

“Mags, stop messin’ around,” Rodger said.

“I thought I saw something,” she said. She checked the radar one more time, brushing a strand of blue hair behind her ear, then joined the other divers in the spacious cabin adjoining the bridge.

They all had been living in the captain’s quarters for the past few days. Although Magnolia didn’t say it, she was too afraid to sleep alone.

Inside, several bunks and two desks were pushed together. On the metal surface were the supplies they had salvaged after fleeing the Hilltop Bastion.

“We have three rifles, three blasters, and four revolvers,” Michael said. “We’re down to five flares, fifteen shotgun shells, three magazines of 5.56-millimeter rounds, and twelve .45 rounds for the revolvers.”

Layla picked up a canteen. “We’ve got about a pint of water left between the four of us, and we’ve got one meal if you count these calorie-rich bars from the Hive. ”

“How are we doing on battery power?” Michael asked, pointing to his armor unit.

Rodger shook his head wearily. “Not good. Our batteries are all below thirty percent. I think I can rig up the system to charge them, but I need time.”

“I can help with that,” Magnolia said.

Michael leaned on his palms over the desk. Several rebel strands of hair fell over his face and he brushed them behind an ear as he looked down at their gear.

“Timothy, have you finished your search of the ship’s database for other weapons?” he asked.

“Yes, Commander.” Timothy’s hologram reappeared at the other end of the table. “The armory is stocked with hundreds of weapons of various calibers, and tens of thousands of rounds of ammunition. In addition, there are—”

“Let me guess,” Rodger interrupted. “We can’t get to any of it without triggering the alarm that will in turn set off the self-destruct system.”

Timothy dipped his translucent head in agreement.

“What about water and food?” Magnolia asked. “Have you found anything in the quarters we haven’t searched yet?” She knew there had to be rations somewhere on this ship, but so far, they hadn’t found any.

“My memory unit is still damaged from the Hilltop Bastion,” said Timothy, “and there are certain places I cannot access. I can, however, tell you which rooms may contain supplies, given the number of lockers present.”

“Good,” Michael said. “We’ll split up and start searching. As soon as we’re done, I want Rodger and Mags to start working on the batteries, but right now, food and water are our priority. If it’s on the ship, we need to find it.”

“A word of caution,” Timothy said. “I do not believe you will find what you are looking for.”

Michael had already turned away from the table, but he halted and glared at the AI. “Why is that?”