The Hallowed Cure, page 12
“My choice,” I said. “My mistake.”
“Yet we can’t change the choices we’ve made,” Mia continued.
“All we can do is make choices now, and you can choose to be with me,” Mia said. “Or you can choose to wallow in self-pity.”
Ouch. That was harsh ... but probably deserved. Could I love Mia and leave her, because I died? I certainly wanted to do that. She certainly wanted me to. So what was my goddamn problem?
“You made the choice to be with me back in the war, despite the fact that we almost died so many times,” Mia said. “So what’s different now? You act like your death is inevitable. It’s not. You’ve got seven years for Ethan or Caitlyn to find a cure for the poisoning.
Both are quite brilliant, and together, who knows what they might accomplish before your illness progresses?”
A quiet thump echoed through the submarine before I could answer. Before I could decide how to answer. And then Saul spoke again, as oblivious to our drama as if we’d been silent the entire trip.
“We’re now latched to the front of the sub and matching speed and course, per your directive,” Saul said, in his unusually precise Presea accent. He actually sounded like a submarine pilot. “If they detect us, we’ll be disintegrated in a few moments.”
Saul said it so calmly. Maybe he was at fatalistic as me. Or maybe he preferred the sweet release of death to listening to me and Mia bicker about the status of our relationship.
We waited. No one disintegrated our submarine. So we hadn’t been detected.
“Open the airlock,” I said.
“It’s a hatch,” Saul informed me calmly. “Opening now.”
I resisted the urge to say I didn’t give a shit what Saul’s submarine door was called. I was too nervous about making the wrong cut with Despair, or hacking through a power conduit and electrocuting myself. I’d never actually used Hahna’s blade to cut anything.
What if I couldn’t activate Despair? I’d never suffered for performance anxiety, but I’d never had to cut a hole in the side of a submarine with someone else’s sword before. We might have to scrub the whole mission because I couldn’t use a sword.
Water dripped in the now sealed space between our sub, the short but extended docking tunnel, and the wet, black hull of Lindsay’s personal submarine. Given that surface barely curved, I knew the sucker must be much bigger than us. Still, no matter how big this submarine might be, it wouldn’t be much of a submarine after Riley’s bomb blew up inside it.
I crept into the hole with Hahna’s blade gripped loosely in my hands. “Time for some submarine surgery. Wish me luck.”
“We’re not finished with this conversation,” Mia said calmly.
“I know. We’ll finish it once Skye’s folks are free and Lindsay is dead, all right? You’ve made some good points, and you’ve given me some real stuff to think about. So one way or the other, we’ll finish this conversation once we’re back on dry land and Skye’s parents are safe.”
“Fair,” Mia agreed. “And also, lame.”
I grinned despite the situation and readied Despair, gripping the handle tightly and focusing on where I wanted the tip to go. It wasn’t like I hadn’t ever trained with a sword. We’d used swords at Cloud Nine, two years ago, when we were raw recruits. For a week.
That certainly qualified me to become a submarine surgeon, didn’t it?
I breathed in. I breathed out. I jabbed Despair as hard as I fucking could, at an angle that skewed slightly outward from the hole I wanted to make. Hahna’s blade slipped into the armored metal submarine hull with no more resistance than I imagined I might encounter from a mattress.
I swore softly under my breath. Despair glowed a light blue now, surrounded by the energy it manifested by feeding off the tiny little aliens inside me. All of this was too insane to really think about right now, and certainly not in detail, so I focused on not cutting a hole in the submarine docking tunnel instead of the ludicrous nature of my life. Which, to be fair, was absolutely ludicrous sometimes.
I moved Despair experimentally with my muscles, and the sword moved. This was harder than stabbing the submarine had been—I had to actually work at it, using all of my Hallowed strength, likely since I didn’t have momentum going for me—but that actually helped. Deliberate, difficult movement made it easier not to hack through the wrong part of the sub or our docking tube.
And holy shit, I was actually cutting a hole in the side of a submarine. Why hadn’t those fuckers at Cloud Nine given all of us Despairs? We would have ended that goddamn Hallowed War in a month.
I finished my cut, then carefully withdrew Despair. The blue glow faded as soon as I stopped cutting. How did the sword know? Did the little panacea aliens inside me ... sense my intent? Was that even possible?
It wasn’t like it mattered right now. I glanced at Mia, grinning with exertion and the fact that I hadn’t fucked up and just drowned us, and motioned toward the sub. “Should I knock?”
She rolled her eyes. “Just push the cut into the submarine, Grant.”
“Masks first.” I pulled mine on and secured it.
Mia strapped on her own clear gas mask, big enough to cover her nose and mouth. The mask fogged up instantly as she breathed into it, and I knew my mask was as well. More gifts from Saul Bishop and Torrent, and our guarantee we wouldn’t instantly drop from anti-panacea gas if Lindsay had pumped it all through her sub. Which, to be fair, she’d be stupid not to.
Time to make some noise. I kicked hard with my boot at the part of the hull I’d cut out of the submarine, which barely moved. Its great weight must still be holding it in place, despite the fact that I’d cut outward, to ensure the hole sloped into the enemy sub.
Kicking made too much noise, so I changed my strategy. I set Despair aside and put my back into pushing, working hard with hands and my chest. Metal shrieked in a deafening refrain as I pushed, and I knew I’d likely alerted the entire submarine to our presence. Even if they didn’t know someone was breaking in, they’d know the moment we started killing people.
With a deafening clang, the ... submarine hull pancake? ... I’d made clattered into the submarine itself, into what we hoped was a largely abandoned engineering section. That was where Saul had landed us, assuming he’d done as he intended. Perez had retrieved the specifications for this large escape submarine before we set out, and it was the same one that the Three Screens had all planned to use to escape Dios if the Hallowed War went bad.
I grabbed Despair and dived through the hole before I could talk myself out of it. No one immediately shot me in the face, which I considered a net positive. I cleared the breach just in time for Mia to
dive through behind me. A loud clang announced she’d just gotten a face full of submarine for her trouble, as the interior was a bit too cramped for her acrobatics. I would have laughed if we weren’t both possibly going to die.
Mia stood, dusted herself off, and glared at me as her recent impact with part of the submarine turned her whole forehead bright red. “Not one word.”
I turned my eyes to the nearest hatch. “Didn’t say a thing.”
[ 14 ]
NO TROUBLE
We were almost to the nearest hatch when the spinny wheel on it began to turn. I didn’t bother trying to keep the hatch closed. Instead, I walked forward and stabbed straight through the door with Despair.
Hahna’s blade penetrated to the hilt. When I pulled it out, it came away slick with blood. Scratch one possibly innocent crewman.
“They’re all waiting on the far side, I’d imagine,” Mia said from behind me. “I can’t get by you to help, so you forge ahead while I watch the rear.”
Mia was right. The hallways in this submarine were barely big enough for one of us to walk without brushing our shoulders on them, so it really was up to me. Good thing Hahna had given me a giant fucking sword that could cut through submarine hull.
I pondered turning the hatch myself, then aimed two slashes at the hinges on the door instead. Once both were gone, I kicked hard.
The door blew outward and fell, and I heard a crunch I recognized as wet bone and squishy flesh.
Two dead so far, and this time, I didn’t hesitate. I strode across the fallen door and impaled the next wide-eyed crewman in line, despite the fact that he carried no weapon and actually held his hands up in surrender. I’d hesitated to kill soldiers before, and that hesitation had always hurt me.
I wouldn’t hesitate today. I’d kill every motherfucker on this submarine, because they’d all die anyway when we blew up Riley’s bomb. I might hate myself later, but for now, I was all killer.
Another crewman rounded the corner. He gasped when he saw me stalking toward him in the near dark with my glowing green eyes, carrying a glowing blue sword, covered in his crewmate’s blood. I actually saw his coveralls turn darker around the crotch area.
Poor guy. Dying would be bad enough, but knowing I’d peed myself before I did it would just make it worse. I grabbed him instead of immediately cutting off his head and slammed him into the wall.
“Where’s the captives?” I growled.
He sputtered something I couldn’t understand.
I raised Despair with my free hand and pointed it at his nose.
“Last chance. Where’s Lindsay keeping the two people she has captive? Tell me or I’m cutting out your eye.”
“Aft ... after deck!” the man sputtered. “Guest quarters!”
“This level?” I demanded.
“Up the ladder!” he whispered. “Up the ladder and then straight aft. Please, I can show you. I can lead you there and unlock the door. Just don’t—”
I sliced his head off. It parted from his shoulders, and I looked away as his body dropped. I expected to feel like a monster, but mostly, I just felt like I had to get this right, this time, or this war would never end. Cold-hearted killing was necessary.
“Captives first,” I said, and marched forward to find a ladder.
“Lindsay after.”
“If you say so,” Mia said softly from behind me.
Something had changed in her voice. I didn’t know if it was because she’d just witnessed the absolute brutality I’d displayed the night I executed Jack’s entire security team, or because she, too, felt bad about massacring unarmed submarine crewmen.
Either way, it didn’t matter. Neither of us could afford to show mercy to already dead men, and we weren’t leaving without Skye’s parents.
Who were actually here on the submarine, just like I’d hoped.
I found a ladder and climbed up, only to cry out as some hidden asshole smashed my fingers with a big wrench. Yet, instead of falling, I pushed off hard with both feet, using all of my Hallowed strength. That sent me up instead of down, and I caught a glimpse of
a young man with an orange jumpsuit. He had blue eyes and brown hair and...
It didn’t matter. Shortly after that, he was a mangled mess against the nearest wall. I moved on toward the “aft” of the submarine, though I didn’t understand why the idiot I’d just murdered in cold blood couldn’t have called it the “back.”
Whatever. I was slicing these poor guys up with a sword. I’d let them have their nautical terms.
We reached another closed door, and once again, I slashed the hinges and kicked it down. It wasn’t like I cared about keeping this thing watertight. A door beyond that arrived with no more murders, and it got the same treatment. And inside, shockingly enough, we found Skye’s parents—Andrew and Rosie Taylor. Still alive.
They gaped wide-eyed, trembling at the sight of me. Both were handcuffed to a pipe, yet otherwise appeared unharmed. I’d half expected Lindsay to have killed them already, but maybe she’d wanted to hedge her bets until she had Skye in custody. Which she would, if we didn’t call Skye off.
“Cover the hall,” I told Mia, and marched forward. To Skye’s parents, I said, “Name’s Riven. I’m Hallowed. Skye sent me. Don’t move.”
I then, very carefully, cut through the handcuffs and the pipe.
Once they were both free, I backed off and glanced at Mia.
“Trouble?”
A loud clang greeted me, followed by a sickening gurgle.
“No trouble,” Mia said calmly, from outside.
“Right, follow me,” I told Skye’s parents.
“How did you get in here?” Rosie whispered.
“We have another sub,” I told her, and walked back into the hall to find Mia in the lead. She couldn’t use Despair, given her limbs were cybernetic, so I’d trust her to lead the way. “Follow us there now. We’re getting out of here.”
“No Lindsay?” Mia asked, leading the way back toward the hole we’d cut.
I’d already decided our next move during my murderous rampage. “No Lindsay. Parents first. Once we get them on board,
we’ll toss the bomb into the submarine and bug out before blowing her to submarine ... smithereens. Riley assured me her bomb is wrapped and waterproof.”
“And if she’s wrong?” Mia asked.
“When has Riley ever been wrong about one of her bombs?” I asked.
“You make a fair point.” Rather than descending the ladder, Mia dropped straight down. I heard her metal feet clang loudly below, but no gunfire.
Behind me, Rosie vomited. She must have seen the dead body of the crewman Mia had crushed. She’d see a lot more dead on the way back, but there was no help for that. I hopped over the hole to guard the other side.
“Get down the ladder. Hurry.”
To their credit, both Andrew and Rosie listened. Maybe they were too terrified of me to argue. Or maybe they really did want to get out of here and had no other options.
Once they were down, I dropped and walked to the rear. We were almost back to the engineering area into which I’d carved the pancake when a hiss sounded and something bit into my back. I spun and backed up, holding Despair like it could stop bullets, which it couldn’t.
Yet as I backed up, glaring, I saw a single submarine crewman holding ... a nail gun? No, something else. A tiny spear thrower?
Either way, it wasn’t going to do a thing to stop a Hallowed. I almost pitied the man, but then he shot me again, and I got a needle in my chest.
“Quit it,” I growled. “Or I’ll carve off your balls and feed them to you.”
Seeing me take two shots without falling had the desired effect.
The man dropped his tiny spear gun and fled, leaving me one less person to kill. He’d die shortly.
We hadn’t encountered a single armed guard on our whole short attack, so maybe Lindsay felt she didn’t need them. Or she didn’t trust anyone on this boat with a weapon save herself. That seemed far more likely than anything else.
We returned to find the bomb already waiting in the engineering area. Saul had lugged it in there, I supposed, yet as Skye’s parents gaped at the hole I’d carved in the side, I didn’t see him about. He must already be back in his sub.
I motioned at Skye’s parents. “Go. Through the hole.”
“How is this possible?” Andrew whispered, but he looked to his wife. “I’ll lead.”
She swallowed. She nodded. And then Skye’s loving parents crawled through the hole I’d carved in the side of Lindsay’s submarine. Mia followed, and I was almost there when shouting echoed down the hall. Couldn’t have them finding us or throwing out the bomb.
“Be right back!” I shouted.
I ran back just in time to get shot with another needle. It stung.
Yet I picked up the fallen hatch door and slammed it into place, then pushed with all my might. The satisfying sound of distorted metal told me I’d wedged the door in real good. No way they were getting through that before we got out of here. I ran back to find the hole waiting, then dived back into our own sub.
I half-expected to find everyone in our submarine dead, because fuck my life, but they were all alive. Saul in the pilot seat, Andrew and Rosie trembling in the back, and Mia watching me with concerned eyes. We’d actually rescued them, somehow. We’d actually pulled this off.
“Close the airlock,” I said, as angry clanging echoed from inside Lindsay’s sub. “We need to get some distance before we blow the bomb.”
“Closing the hatch,” Saul said calmly.
Right. It was a hatch. Whatever made Saul happy.
The hatch closed with a loud clang, and then I heard a bunch of hissing. What was taking so long? The bad guys could be on us at any moment. Finally, another thump followed by the sound of bubbles outside told me we’d popped free, and the churning in my stomach told me we were fleeing. I had no idea if Lindsay’s submarine was chasing us, but I hoped not.
Hopefully, the fact that the front of their submarine was now filling with water would cause them some problems. I doubted we’d flooded the whole thing, but it probably wouldn’t handle well with half of it full of seawater. With luck, we’d kill the engines as well.
“So Skye really is alive?” Rosie asked hopefully. “Cloud Nine told us she was dead, that she died ... it’s been two years. Where has she been all this time?”
“She’s alive,” I hedged.
How exactly did you tell a couple of parents their kid’s body spent two years in a metal coffin in Jack Griffyn’s penthouse, then woke up and turned into the Queen of the Mutes? I settled on passing the buck. “When you meet her, I’ll let her explain the rest.”
“Lindsay’s submarine is turning about,” Saul said calmly. “It appears they’ve regained mobility despite their flooded bow, and that they do intend to pursue.”
“Right,” I said. “So go faster.”
“We’re already going as fast as we can,” Saul said mildly. “They have bigger engines, but we have a smaller profile, and they have a hole in their hull. Yet their torpedoes have no such issues.”
I only now caught up to the last of what Saul said. “No one told me they had fucking torpedoes.”
“I mean...” Mia shrugged. “It is a submarine, right?”
“Do we have torpedoes?” I asked.
“We do not have torpedoes,” Saul said calmly.
“Why the fuck don’t we have torpedoes?”
