Nicholas Smith - Hell Divers

“We have chickens, cows, sheep, pigs, rabbits, guinea pigs, dogs, and turkeys,” Eli continued.

“How do you keep healthy populations?” Lana asked.

“The livestock are also genetically engineered. We’ve lost quite a few populations over the years. Needless to say, every single animal in this room is on the endangered-species list.”

Layla nudged Tin in the side. “Makes you wonder what other animals used to live down there, huh?”

Tin nodded and looked into the animal pens, where a dog stared back at them. It had a silver coat, with a dash of chocolate brown circling one of its blue eyes.

The animal stood at the gate, looking directly at the plastic room. A smaller dog with a mane of black fur strolled up beside it, tilting its head and studying their observers.

“That’s Silver and Lilly,” Eli said. “They’re both huskies.”

“But why dogs?” Andrew asked. “It’s not like we eat ’em.”

“Good question,” Eli replied. “Ever heard the saying ‘a dog is man’s best friend’?”

Most of the kids around Tin shook their head or just gave him a blank look.

Eli frowned and said, “Someone must have really loved them back in the day. They come from a long line of huskies that have lived on the ship. Those are the last two, though. And the male is sterile—another example of where genetic engineering failed.”

“Why continue to feed them?” Lana asked. “That’s food that could be used for more productive purposes.”

Silver gave a low, throaty growl, as if he understood her. A farmer inside the pen knelt to calm him, but the dog took off running. He circled the enclosed area, barking as he ran. In the blink of an eye, Lilly started barking excitedly and went chasing after Silver.

“What the hell?” Ned muttered.

Tin saw flashes of motion in the other fenced-in areas. The turkeys were squawking, the cows were pawing and bawling, and the hogs were slamming into their metal barriers. Everywhere he looked, the animals were frantic.

The ship suddenly shook violently, knocking Tin and several of the other kids to the deck. Screams filled the plastic room. Tin reached for something to hold on to as the floor tilted. Sliding across the cold floor, he felt a sharp pain in his forehead as it whacked against the exposed pipe underneath a sink.

A strong tremor rippled through the ship as it leveled back out. Tin sat up and touched the drip of blood from his forehead. The sound of crunching plastic pulled his attention to the entrance of the room. Two farmers unzipped the front door and hurried inside. The woman on the left ripped a white mask away from her mouth and yelled, “Everyone out! Get to the emergency shelters!”

Tin could see the others scrambling to their feet around him, but he couldn’t get up. The sweet scent of the harvested fruit lingered. The majesty of the dogs, and the breathtaking feat of engineering, mingled somehow with the terror he felt from the lurching ship. It was as if his brain couldn’t separate the beauty from the horror.

Tin closed his eyes and felt powerful hands pulling him to his feet. Someone carried him into a stairwell. When he opened his eyes again the lights were flickering. His blurred vision cleared enough that he could distinguish Eli’s silver beard in front of him.

“Hold on tight, kid,” he said. “I’m taking you to the med ward.”

Over the discord of the groaning ship and emergency sirens, Tin heard Silver and Lilly barking. A moment later, a hollow thud reverberated through the Hive, and he was shrouded in darkness.

Red light flooded the bridge, and the wail of an emergency siren echoed through the room. Captain Ash cupped her throbbing forehead and pulled away from the medic trying to assist her. There were more important things to worry about than a minor bang on the head.

“What the hell happened?” Ash yelled, making her way down the aisle of monitors to navigation. Jordan was already at Ensign Hunt’s station.

Ryan, the skinny nav ensign, hovered behind them. He met Ash’s searching gaze with a rueful look.

“Captain, the storm—it grew before we could react,” Hunt said. “We were on the border when it swallowed us, like that . He shook his head and looked at his screen.

“How bad’s the damage?” Ash said.

“Not sure, Captain,” Jordan replied. “Engineering hasn’t given me a Sitrep yet.”

“Hunt, how far are we from the storm?”

“Three miles, ma’am.”

“Double that margin,” she ordered.

“Aye, Captain.”

Ash could hardly hear the ensign’s reply over the wail of the sirens, but she could see his strained face in the red glow of the emergency lights.

“Someone get me a goddamn Sitrep from engineering!” Ash shouted. She was furious at herself and everyone else on her team. The storms were unpredictable, but Ryan and Hunt should have seen this coming. And she should never have left the bridge. It was the second disastrous mistake in a week.

“I’m getting a report from Medical,” Jordan said, cupping his palm over his earpiece to listen. “So far, we have four dead, from engineering. They must have been killed belowdecks.”

Ash shuddered at the thought. She had seen only images of the dark, hot, cramped passages, but Mark had been inside them during his training when they were newlyweds. He had said the tunnels were barely large enough to squirm through—and he was not a big man.

What an awful place to die .

“Medical’s reporting multiple injuries, too,” Jordan added.

“How many?”

“I don’t know, Captain. They don’t have an accurate count yet.”

“Video coming back online,” Ryan said.

Ash glanced at the screen. The cams on the Hive ’s stern flickered back to life, capturing a live feed of the horizon. Lightning flashes split the darkness, lighting up the billowing cumulus from within. The purple edges of the storm swelled, reaching out as if it were giving chase, and Ash finally saw why it had caught her nav team by surprise. The men hadn’t been asleep at the helm; the storm was expanding faster than any they had ever seen.

“Captain, I’m picking up beacon,” Hunt said. “I think it’s… Wait, that can’t be right.”

“What?” Ash’s hoarse voice barked.

Hunt squinted at his screen and then glanced up at Ash, his eyes wide. “I think it’s Ares’ beacon,” he said.

“Where?” said Ash. “How far?” She hurried down the ramp to the bottom floor, hoping to catch a glimpse of the airship onscreen.

Hunt’s response sounded distant. “From the surface, Captain. The ship is…” His voice trailed off, drowned out by the wailing sirens.

Ash closed her eyes. Her entire body went numb, as if it no longer belonged to her. Her worst fear had finally come true. They were Earth’s last ship.

The Hive was alone.

X pushed his way through the frantic hubbub outside the med ward. Most people made way when they saw his uniform. One man, however, eyed him with blatant resentment. As if X’s ninety-six jumps didn’t count for dirt. As if X was gaming the system.

Well, he was. But he didn’t care.

Tin was somewhere inside the overcrowded clinic, and X was desperate to find him. He scanned the beds of burned or wounded patients, hesitating every time he saw a kid. Some were almost unrecognizable under the bloody rags covering their wounds.

X grimaced and kept moving.

“Tin!” he yelled, his voice hardening. “Tin, where are you?”

A weak tug on his sleeve pulled him toward a shadowy hallway. Tin’s friend Layla was standing there, her cheeks shiny with tears. “Over here,” she whimpered.