Nicholas Smith - Hell Divers

There was no pain at first. That was good—it meant that the layered suit had protected him from the brunt of the electricity. The burning didn’t start for another five thousand feet. It began under his skin and spread from his toes to his face. His entire body felt as if it had been burned from within. His insides felt as if they were melting. The raw burn worked its way into his bones, the pain shooting through his skeleton.

Distant voices called out. Or maybe it was the thunder; he wasn’t sure anymore. His body had caught fire, and he imagined flames consuming him as he climbed higher into the storm.

You’re not dead, Rick. You’re not dead…

But he sure felt as though he was going to die. He repeated the mantra through the grid work of electricity, his body hanging limp in his harness. He was aware that he was holding on to a toggle, but his hand wouldn’t respond to any mental command.

Below, Weaver caught a glimpse of Magnolia and Katrina. They vanished in the clouds a moment later. Lightning cut through their flight path. He sucked in a breath, holding it in his chest. Their balloons remerged a moment later, and he exhaled the air from his burning lungs.

A wall of red crept into both sides of his vision. The deep burning continued to rip and boil through him. He closed his eyes and chomped down on his mouth guard in response to the pain. The burn slowly faded away into numbness, and a moment later, yellow light washed over the red in his vision. But this light was different. Through his thin eyelids, he could see a golden glow.

He snapped his eyes back open and looked skyward. Rays of light penetrated the thick clouds above.

But that had to be an illusion. Or perhaps he was just dead.

Weaver’s balloon pulled him out of the darkness, and he looked down to see the churning storm clouds below his feet. He spit out his mouth guard in shock. He had made it through the Sirens and the storm. He had actually made it through!

When he looked back up, he was surrounded by puffy white clouds. At first, he thought maybe Jones had been right about heaven. Maybe he was dead. Maybe this was heaven. He blinked the final bits of red away as the yellow light strengthened. He fought to raise a hand and shield his eyes from the golden glow.

Blinking rapidly, he tried to focus on the sphere of crimson in the center of the light. It was so intense he could see only the radiant edges of the flaming ball. There was something else up there, too. A single black dot crossed the horizon. He squinted into the light, and the sleek, beetlelike outline of an airship came into focus.

What he was seeing was impossible. Wasn’t it?

The voices were back again. But he couldn’t tell whether it was one of the other divers or himself talking. He forced his rattled brain to concentrate, finally realizing it was neither. They were the words of his wife, Jennifer.

You’re almost there, Rick. You’re almost safe.

Warm tears streaked down his face, and he sobbed like a child as the Hive came into focus. The ship looked so much like Ares that for a moment, he thought he was staring at his home. And then it hit him. Yes, he was staring at his new home.

As the ship grew bigger, it blocked out the sun. The light danced around the metal edges as the flames had around Ares when it crashed. But the Hive wasn’t burning. It was basking in the glow of the sun.

A pair of doors under the hull parted and opened, revealing the inside of the unfamiliar ship. Part of him wanted to pull away, to fall back to the surface and join his family. He wasn’t sure he could make a new life without Jennifer and the girls. Instead, he let go of his toggles and stretched his numb arms to embrace the final ascent.

He let out a laugh that sounded a bit unhinged, even to himself. But that was okay. Maybe he was a bit crazy now—crazy, burnt, and…

Alive.

The balloon pulled him into the recovery bay a moment later. Katrina vaulted through the doors, doing a quick somersault to burn off her momentum. She hung on to the rungs of a ladder, her helmet still searching the clouds below. Magnolia entered less than a minute later. Weaver could see the tears streaming down her cheeks through her visor. She trembled as she hung there, her gaze examining Weaver’s face and his tears. He touched her on the shoulder.

“It’s okay, kid,” he said, remembering X’s words. “You’re home now.”

Sunlight greeted Ash when she arrived at the launch bay. She hurried toward a crowd of yellow suits swarming around the plastic dome that covered the reentry bay. Tin was with her, his hand clasped in hers.

“Is X back?” he asked.

“I hope so,” Ash replied.

As they walked, Tin scanned the porthole windows, his eyes wide with awe. Normally, the sight would have mesmerized her, too, but she didn’t have time to stop and stare. Halfway across the room, she noticed something else.

“Where’s your hat?” she asked Tin.

“I don’t need it anymore,” he said. “Hell Divers don’t wear hats.”

“Hell Divers?”

He looked away from the windows and found her eyes. She saw strength there beyond his ten years.

“I don’t want to be an engineer anymore,” Tin said. “I want to be a Hell Diver, like X and my dad.”

She smiled and squeezed his hand.

“Captain,” a voice called out. Jordan came running from the crowd of technicians. He slid to a stop a few feet in front of Ash, his boots squeaking across the floor. “We recovered the crate and three divers.”

“Just three?” Ash said, dread rising in her voice.

“Afraid so,” Jordan replied. He glanced back at the dome. Ty motioned for the technicians to step back and yelled, “Repressurizing!”

A hiss sounded as air flooded the reentry bay.

“Sterilizing for contaminants,” Ty said.

Mist filled the inside of the dome, swirling and churning like the storm over Hades. Ash tightened her grip on Tin’s hand. Finally, the plastic clicked and unsealed, and a grappling hook pulled the dome away.

Floor vents sucked away the white cloud, and three divers staggered out. One of them dropped to both knees, dented armor shining in the sunlight. The other two stood, their visors roving this way and that as if they couldn’t believe they were indeed back on the ship. It took only a moment to see that X wasn’t among the group.

Tin pulled away from Ash’s grip. “Where’s—where’s X?”

The diver on the ground removed his helmet, and a man Ash didn’t recognize looked up. He wore green armor, and his layered suit was subtly different from those her own divers wore.

“Where’s X?” Tin asked again, his voice cracking.

“I’m sorry, kid, but he didn’t make it,” the man said. “Bravest damn diver I ever saw, though. What he did for Magnolia…” He shook his head and pushed himself to his feet. Extending a trembling hand, he said, “Captain Ash, I presume. I’m Commander Rick Weaver from Ares .”

Ash didn’t know what to say, so instead of saying anything, she shook his hand. Then she grabbed Tin’s hand again. She looked to the other divers as they removed their helmets. Katrina and Magnolia, their faces streaked with tears, wrapped their arms around each other.

“What do you mean, ‘he didn’t make it’?” Tin asked. “He promised he would come back.” Ash squeezed his hand, but he pulled away. “Where is he?”

Katrina shook her head. “He’s gone, Tin. I’m so sorry.”

Tin glanced back at Ash. “We have to go back for him!”

Magnolia cupped a hand over her mouth and sobbed.

“I’m sorry, Tin, but X is…” Ash considered her words, then said, “He’s dead, Tin. We can’t do anything for him now. I’m sorry.”