Nicholas Smith - Deliverance

“What floaters?” Michael asked. He looked at Layla again, then Magnolia, and finally back to X. “What the hell aren’t you guys telling me?”

“The men on the ship,” X said. “They come every six months to the lighthouses and trap Sirens and other creatures, then take them back out to sea. I’ve seen them carrying cargo away from the ITC facilities, too.”

Michael shook his head in disbelief. He paused to think a moment before asking the obvious questions. “Are you telling me there are survivors down here? How is that possible? The Hive or one of the other airships would’ve detected them years ago.”

X just shrugged.

“That’s why the lighthouse was blinking,” Michael said, realization setting in. His gut sank at the implications. “We have to find them,” he said. “We have to figure out where they’re fr—”

“No,” X said, cutting him off. His fingers reached up to the scar on his neck again.

Magnolia broke the silence. “I saw a lighthouse at Charleston, too. Wondered why it was all lit up.”

Again the room was silent, and everyone looked to the legendary Hell Diver for answers. He scratched at his beard and sighed.

“I’m not sure who they are,” X said, “but they come from the sea, and they’re dangerous.” He went back to petting Miles as if this explanation were enough. The distant cry of a Siren rang out, and the dog’s hackles rose.

“Maybe they have a home on an island or something, where the radiation isn’t bad,” Magnolia said.

Layla looked at X. “You said they trap the Sirens. Do they eat the god-awful things?”

X shrugged again. It seemed he was done telling stories for now, or maybe he was simply feeling the strain of talking so much, to so many people, after his long isolation. But Michael had a feeling there was much more to this story—something X was hiding. Still, now wasn’t the time to pressure him to talk. Not after what he’d been through. If anyone should have questions, it was the man who had been left behind for a decade.

“I want to go home,” Rodger said. “When are we leaving?”

X raised his bushy eyebrows. “Leaving?”

“We came to take you home,” Michael said.

“This is my home now,” X said. He pulled a flask from his vest and took a slug of whatever was inside. Magnolia massaged her forehead, her frustration and disappointment bleeding through. Clearly, Michael wasn’t the only one who remembered the alcoholic version of X from ten years ago. Somehow, he had managed to make his own shine here or else had found a stash somewhere.

“You belong on the Hive ,” Michael said. “But we’re going to need your help taking it back from Jordan.”

“Fuck that,” X said, wiping his mouth on his sleeve. “I’m better off on my own.”

Miles let out a whine, and X patted his head. “I didn’t mean without you, boy.”

Staring in disbelief, Magnolia said, “Jordan left you down here.”

“Yeah, I heard you the first time,” X said. He took another slug from his flask.

“Honestly, I’d rather not go back to the Hive ,” Layla said, speaking up for the first time. “Why can’t we just stay on Deliverance ?”

“No,” Rodger protested. “I can’t leave my parents behind.”

“Humanity is counting on us,” Michael said, turning to Layla. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. She of all people was supposed to have his back.

“I’m sick of humanity,” Layla said with a shrug.

“And I’ve got unfinished business with Jordan,” Magnolia chimed in. “I’m going back to the Hive with or without you guys, and I’m gonna strangle Leon with his own guts.”

Michael shook his head, frustrated. They had come all this way to get X, but the stubborn jackass didn’t want to leave. On top of that, Layla was dragging her feet about returning to the Hive.

A chirping sound came from across the room, and everyone looked at the handheld radio in the pile of their gear and armor. Magnolia walked over and picked up the radio, then gave it to Michael. He brought it up to his lips.

X slowly got up from his chair, watching warily. “That on a private channel?” he asked.

Michael nodded. “Why?”

X shook his head and settled back into his seat. Michael narrowed his eyes, trying to figure out why the hell the floaters scared X so much. After all the man had been through, humans should be the least of his concerns. The speakers crackled, and the AI’s voice came online.

“Commander Everhart, this is Timothy. Do you copy? Over.”

“Copy you, Timothy. Go ahead.”

“Sir, I apologize for breaking radio silence, but I have a problem. There are people approaching Deliverance , and they are armed with automatic rifles. What should I do, sir?”

“Your friends?” X asked.

Michael shook his head. “It’s just us down here.”

“Shit, it’s got to be the floaters,” X said, getting back up from his chair. Miles stood and looked up, as if awaiting a command.

Michael wanted to ask a dozen questions, but whoever these people were, only one thing mattered. “We can’t let them take our ship,” he said, looking to X. “Please, X. Will you help us?”

X started to bring the flask back up to his lips, then slid it back into the slot on his vest. He shook his head wearily, like an old man who didn’t want to get up for the day’s chores.

“Ah, fuck it,” he said. “Miles and I don’t have anything better to do.”

Rodger followed the other divers down a dark stairwell to the garage under the building. In the middle of the space was a motorcycle with wide tires, hitched to a trailer.

“Nice bike,” Michael said.

X pointed at the trailer, “Everyone in the back.”

Rodger examined the vehicle before getting in. The wheels on both the bike and the trailer sported extra-wide tires and had metal blades protruding from the hubs.

“You want us to get inside that , and let you drive us across the city like livestock being shipped to slaughter?” Rodger asked. “No, thanks.”

“Just get in, man,” Michael said.

Magnolia turned to look at him. “Come on, Rodger Dodger. I’ll save you a seat.”

Rodger gave an uneasy smile and followed the other divers toward the open trailer. X and Magnolia had already loaded the crates of supplies and weapons they would need on the journey. Rodger went over the plan again in his head. It was simple. They would drive through the city to an area a few blocks away from Deliverance. From there, they would move in on foot and engage any hostiles trying to steal their ship.

“Once we’re on the open road, I’m going to haul ass,” X said in his raspy voice. “Your ship is about ten minutes away. Your job is to shoot anything in our way, without hitting Miles or me.”

Michael dipped his helmet in assent. Somehow, X had taken over command of the mission. Rodger wasn’t sure letting the man lead them was a good idea, but once again no one seemed especially interested in his opinion.

“The others are heavily armed,” X said. “Mags and I will take them down.”

“Won’t they hear us coming?” Rodger asked.

X shook his head. “I’ve modified the mufflers and engine. She purrs, but she don’t scream.” He swung his leg over the bike. “You guys ready?”

The divers, crammed into the trailer among the crates and weapons, nodded. Miles thumped his tail on the floor.

“I’m Rodgeman,” Rodger whispered again. The words had become a nervous habit.

The bike choked to life as X revved the engine, and the trailer lurched up the ramp toward the surface. Magnolia pressed her leg against Rodger’s and flashed a smile at him. He swallowed and moved his rifle out of the way.