Nicholas Smith - Deliverance

Les took the box, eyeing it suspiciously. Was this some sick game, or was the captain being sincere? He didn’t trust the man; that much was certain. But it didn’t matter right now. He was just anxious to get the medicine to his family.

Del Toro, frowning, backed away from the hatch, and Les hurried inside his quarters. Phyl was waiting there and grabbed him around the waist, hugging him tightly, but Katherine remained in bed, hardly able to raise a hand in greeting.

“Les,” she croaked. “Is that you?”

“Shhh,” he said, moving over to her bedside. He opened the box and pulled out two vials of blue liquid, handing one to Katherine. “Drink this. It’ll make you better.”

Katherine downed the vial, and Les helped Phyl do the same. When they had finished, he sat next to his wife on the bed and, for the first time in a month, bent down and kissed her on the lips.

“Everything’s going to be fine, baby,” he said, even though his pounding heart told him things were still far from okay. In a few hours, he was going to dive again, and this time he wasn’t heading to a green zone.

Magnolia waited on the landing inside the gutted tower, listening for any sign of Sirens or the other monsters X had mentioned on the street. Rodger and X carried Michael up the next flight of stairs, with Layla trying to keep it together behind them. On rear guard, Magnolia twirled the blades, ready to slice anything that followed them.

The dog waited with her, and she could see the tail wagging inside its suit whenever she looked down at it. It reminded her of Silver and Lilly, the two huskies from the Hive that had died years ago, the last of their line. She never thought she would see another dog.

She hadn’t been sure she would actually see X again, despite Michael’s faith in their mission, but here he was, alive and, from what she could see, reasonably lucid.

Moving left, she peered through an open door on the landing and down the connecting corridor. Doors lined the hallway, and a window at the end flashed red from the distant lighthouse. A Siren flapped by, its leathery hide obscuring the view for a second.

Magnolia jogged up the stairs to catch up with the others. The dog loped beside her, anxious to rejoin its master. The group had stopped on the next landing, and X motioned for Layla to open a steel door with a key he pulled from his vest. Her hands were shaking so badly, she dropped the key on the floor. She scrambled to pick it up and inserted it in the lock.

X mumbled something to Michael, but Magnolia couldn’t hear it. He still hadn’t said a word to her. Did X not remember her?

Sure, she was a few years older and had laid off the black-market makeup she used to wear, but she hadn’t changed so much that her old friend wouldn’t recognize her, even with her short-cropped hair and the bandage on her face.

Unless he really is crazy.

Layla opened the door to reveal a tiled room with plastic curtains covering the walls. A row of showerheads hung from the ceiling. Rodger and X helped carry Michael inside and laid him gently on the floor.

“Can’t…” He reached up, wheezing. “Can’t breathe.”

Layla started to take off his helmet, but X reached out to stop her. “Everyone has to rinse off first.”

“No,” Layla said. “We’ve got to get Tin stabilized before the poison stops his heart!”

Michael squirmed on the ground, clutching his leg, barely lucid. He gasped for air as the poison began to affect his lungs.

“Decon first,” X said. “Keep your voices low. They know we’re here now.”

He turned a knob on the wall, and a line running up to the showerheads filled with a white liquid. It sprayed down in a mist that coated their bodies and dripped onto the tile floor, running into the floor drain along with Michael’s blood. He let out a cry, his whole body jerking.

“Tin,” Layla said, eyes pleading to X for help. “We’re losing him. You have to help him right now.”

Bending down, X pulled back the patch and dressing that Layla had covered the wound with. The flesh around the cut looked foul, already turning orange and leaking pus. He tossed the bloodied patch on the floor and took a syringe from his vest.

“Gotta risk it,” X muttered.

“What is that?” Layla said, reaching out to stop him.

“An adrenaline-steroid mix. Saved my life.”

Before Layla could object, X stuck the needle directly into Michael’s wound. He sat straight up and roared in pain until he ran out of air. He fell back to the floor, eyes rolling up in his head.

“Help me get his clothes off,” X said. He coughed and looked at the other divers. “The rest of you, strip down to your underwear.”

“You’re kidding, right?” Rodger asked.

Magnolia cut her eyes at him. “Do it.”

The divers took off their armor and then everything but their undergarments. Rodger put the discarded items in a pile while X and Layla helped pull Michael’s clothes off. Rodger kept his eyes on the floor, but Magnolia still folded her arms across her chest, slightly embarrassed. This wasn’t exactly how she had imagined Rodger seeing her undressed.

She shivered in the cold spray of chemicals and stared at the man everyone had written off for dead. The burly leader of Team Raptor was gaunt now, but his bones were still covered in lean, ropy muscle. Scars crisscrossed his flesh like roads and rivers on a map. A thick gray beard covered his face but didn’t quite obscure the long scar across his neck, where something or someone had cut him from ear to ear. The evidence of the pain and suffering he had endured was written on every part of his body.

He turned as if sensing Magnolia’s gaze on him. He opened his mouth to bark an order, revealing chipped teeth. Amazingly, most of them were still white. X had always had a killer smile.

“Open that,” he said, indicating the plastic sheet behind Magnolia. She pulled back the drape, revealing another steel door. She grabbed the handle and opened it. There was only darkness beyond.

“Light,” he said, pointing at the floor.

Magnolia went in and bent down to turn on the lantern. The light spread over a small room with a metal dresser on each side. Supplies were stacked neatly on metal shelves.

“Next door,” X said.

Magnolia crossed the space with the lantern and pulled back a hatch that opened onto a living space. The room connected to a kitchen with an island covered in some sort of water purification equipment. Stacks of crates, a large metal table, and two chairs furnished the living space, and a second door led to an open bedroom, where Magnolia saw blankets and pillows piled on the floor. Various weapons were propped against the walls.

Rodger and X picked Michael up and moved him over to the table in the living area. They sat him down carefully, and X grabbed a medical kit from his stash, along with a canteen. He swirled some water around his mouth but didn’t offer a drink to anyone else.

“Miles,” X said, jerking his chin toward the dog. “This is our home.”

“It’s very nice,” Magnolia said uncertainly.

He locked eyes with her. “You… What’s your name?”

“You don’t remember me?”

X’s eyes went unfocused, as if he were looking at something far away. He seemed unable to form an answer to her question. He turned and busied himself with Michael’s injured leg.

“Is he going to be okay?” Layla asked.

“Wound’s deep. Poison and rads making things worse.”

No one said a word. They just watched X treat the wound. With Layla’s help, he cleaned it and began stitching it up. Unable to stand the silence, Magnolia walked over to a pair of rifles set up against the wall.