Hell Divers Series | Book 8 | King of the Wastes Read online

  Books by Nicholas Sansbury Smith

  The Hell Divers Series

  Hell Divers

  Hell Divers II: Ghosts

  Hell Divers III: Deliverance

  Hell Divers IV: Wolves

  Hell Divers V: Captives

  Hell Divers VI: Allegiance

  Hell Divers VII: Warriors

  Hell Divers VIII: King of the Wastes

  Hell Divers IX (coming summer 2022)

  Hell Divers X (title and release date TBA)

  The Sons of war Series

  Sons of War

  Sons of War 2: Saints

  Sons of War 3: Sinners

  The Extinction Cycle Series

  (SEASON ONE)

  Extinction Horizon

  Extinction Edge

  Extinction Age

  Extinction Evolution

  Extinction End

  Extinction Aftermath

  Extinction Lost (A Team Ghost short story)

  Extinction War

  The Extinction Cycle:

  Dark Age Series

  (season two)

  Extinction Shadow

  Extinction Inferno

  Extinction Ashes

  Extinction Darkness

  Extinction Darkness

  The Trackers Series

  Trackers

  Trackers 2: The Hunted

  Trackers 3: The Storm

  Trackers 4: The Damned

  The Orbs Series

  Solar Storms (An Orbs Prequel)

  White Sands (An Orbs Prequel)

  Red Sands (An Orbs Prequel)

  Orbs

  Orbs II: Stranded

  Orbs III: Redemption

  Orbs IV: Exodus

  The e-day Series

  E-Day

  E-Day II: Burning Earth (coming winter 2021)

  E-Day III: Dark Moon (coming spring 2022)

  Thank you for download this epub.

  Don't forget to sign up for Nicholas' spam-free newsletter to learn more about future releases, how to claim a book patch, special offers, and bonus content. Subscribers will also recieve access to exclusive giveaways.

  CLICK HERE TO SIGN UP

  Are you a Nicholas Sansbury Smith fan? Join him on social media.

  He would love to hear from you!

  Facebook Fan Club: Join the NSS army!

  Facebook Author Page facebook.com/nicholassansburysmith/

  Twitter twitter.com/greatwaveink

  Website www.nicholassansburysmith.com

  Instagram instagram.com/author_sansbury

  Email: [email protected]

  Copyright © 2021 by Nicholas Sansbury Smith

  E-book published in 2021 by Blackstone Publishing

  Cover illustration by K. Jones

  Series design by Kathryn Galloway English

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  The characters and events in this book are fictitious.

  Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental

  and not intended by the author.

  Trade e-book ISBN 978-1-6650-2427-3

  Library e-book ISBN 978-1-6650-2426-6

  Fiction / Science Fiction / Apocalyptic & Post-Apocalyptic

  CIP data for this book is available from the Library of Congress

  Blackstone Publishing

  31 Mistletoe Rd.

  Ashland, OR 97520

  www.BlackstonePublishing.com

  For the Hell Divers readers, you all keep this series going with your encouragement, support, reviews, and enthusiasm. Thank you for diving so humanity survives!

  “Either I will find a way or I will make one.”

  —Carthaginian General Hannibal Barca

  Recap since

  Hell Divers VII: Warriors . . .

  A year has passed since the Hell Divers defeated the machines at Mount Kilimanjaro. The five hundred liberated prisoners, former sky people from the ITC Requiem, ITC Victory, and ITC Malenkov, have all settled in their new home back at the Vanguard Islands, joining the Cazadores, sky people, and survivors from Rio de Janeiro and other far-flung bunkers around the world.

  Legendary Hell Diver Xavier “X” Rodriguez remains on the throne of the Vanguard Islands, having defeated Horn and the skinwalkers in Aruba. After killing Horn and destroying the machines, King Xavier thought the immediate danger to his people was over, but a different threat is discovered in a log on Horn’s former warship Raven’s Claw. The scribe reveals a secret and lays bare the truth about the fate of the Vanguard Islands—a fate that both former King el Pulpo and his son Horn foresaw.

  The Hell Divers have been grounded since Mount Kilimanjaro, but they haven’t been sitting idle. New divers have joined the ranks, and they deploy with the Vanguard military on raids in Aruba and other locations.

  Michael Everhart is now the chief engineer of the Vanguard Islands, working night and day to maintain the oil rigs and keep them secure against the storms. Rodger Mintel serves as a deputy chief engineer and oversees the growing Vanguard naval fleet.

  Life in the sky is but a memory for some, but life on the surface has become more dangerous than ever. Extreme weather and failed crops have raised the specter of famine, forcing Vanguard naval ships to deploy to the wastes in search of supplies. But each time, they are obliged to travel longer distances in dangerous red zones, and each time, they come back with fewer supplies—and fewer soldiers. Soon, X will conclude that the way to survive isn’t by sustaining what they have. They must expand into other areas, once again taking to the wastes to survive.

  Prologue

  A fiery sunset spread across the invisible boundary separating the Vanguard Islands from the poisoned world. Somehow, despite all odds, this place still existed. The rigs had survived World War III and its deadly aftermath, the reign of el Pulpo, the war between the Cazadores and the sky people, a plot from the skinwalkers to take the throne, and a devastating attack by the machines.

  King Xavier Rodriguez felt a kinship with these oil rigs. Old, weathered, and lucky as hell to be upright. Standing outside the command center of Raven’s Claw with Miles by his side, he gazed out at the oil rigs in the pale moonlight.

  Five days had passed since X slew Horn, el Pulpo’s son. In that time, the aircraft carrier had also arrived with the defector units and drones, only to be repelled when the Hell Divers shut down their base at Mount Kilimanjaro.

  Still no word from Commander Everhart or anyone else on that mission, but in his heart, X knew that Tin would return.

  Together, they would rebuild.

  Torches burned on the horizon, illuminating the work already being done on the trading post rig, which the drones had all but destroyed. On scaffolds, crews of Cazadores and sky people worked by torchlight into the night.

  X walked down the platform to Magnolia and Ton, both of them looking at the trading post rig. Victor was too injured to make this journey, but X knew that the former slave would be here if he could.

  The warship passed the platform bearing the Hive, renamed Vanguard. The airship was still secured to the rig but was being prepared to make the journey across the ocean,
to find the divers and bring them home.

  X would be on that flight, but first, the islands must be safe. That meant tracking down the ITC Ranger aircraft supercarrier, which had delivered the machines to the islands.

  After the defectors went offline, the carrier had drifted away, into the storms beyond the barrier of the Vanguard Islands.

  Raven’s Claw was hunting the ship.

  The hatch opened behind X. Heavy boots pounded on the platform. A group of warriors, led by the Cazador general Forge, stepped into the command center, on the superstructure known to naval personnel as the “island.” The tall, stone-faced general pounded his chest armor in salute to X.

  Behind Forge stood the freshly promoted militia lieutenant Wynn, who had helped defeat the machines during their attack on the islands. Beside him was the Barracuda warrior Sergeant Willis, now leader of the elite squad that had helped in the victory against Horn on Aruba. His valor in battle had earned him a new name: “Asesino,” or Slayer.

  By his side was Bromista, a man known for his joking off the battlefield and the accuracy of his crossbow on it. The bald Cazador was the only other surviving Barracuda from the war against the skinwalkers.

  Behind the two veterans stood nine more of the most illustrious Cazador soldiers left in the army, including Sergeant Jorge “Gran Jefe” Mata. Gran Jefe was not only the biggest Cazador left, he had also been a member of el Pulpo’s personal guard.

  On the deck below, fifty more veteran Cazador warriors stood alongside twenty-five militia soldiers.

  The bow of Raven’s Claw cleaved the waves with its whale-skull figurehead, approaching the storms beyond the invisible line. X stood in silence, thinking of the Hell Divers in Tanzania.

  They wouldn’t all be coming home.

  Darkness enveloped the ship as it broke through the wall. Lightning arced across the sky, and thunder echoed in the clouds.

  Miles moved up beside X, nudging his leg.

  “It’ll be okay, boy,” X said.

  His loyal companion lowered his head in the gusting wind that blasted the warship. Rain sheeted down on the soldiers on the deck.

  Two teams manned the .50-caliber machine guns with the last belts of ammunition. They wouldn’t do anything against the aircraft carrier. The restored Mark 45 turret mounts with barrels that fired 127 mm shells could take out any defectors that may be operational.

  If it came to that, the torpedoes the skinwalkers had loaded into Raven’s Claw would knock a good-size hole in the carrier and send her to the bottom.

  X hoped not, but he was always prepared for a fight. The wind grew more intense, and he raised his prosthetic arm to Magnolia.

  “Take Miles inside,” he said.

  The thoughts pinballing through his mind ceased when he saw the supercarrier’s outline.

  The nuclear-powered floating fortress loomed out of the darkness, drifting aimlessly in the storm, or so it seemed.

  X unslung his assault rifle, already loaded with armor-piercing bullets, and chambered the first round.

  The gray wall of metal grew larger in the distance.

  “Okay, you inanimate bastards,” he growled under his breath.

  “Get ready!” Lieutenant Wynn shouted.

  General Forge barked orders in Spanish, and the deck came alive. The MK 45 mounts rotated, aiming their barrels and preparing to fire their 127 mm shells toward the massive dark silhouette.

  X went inside the command center.

  Captain Two Skulls stood at the helm with his back to X, the death’s-head tattoo on the back of his shaved scalp staring out from black eye sockets.

  X joined him at the viewports. “Talk to me, Cap,” he said. “Tell me this ship is dead in the water.”

  “Ah, King Xavier.” Captain Two Skulls looked over a screen. “Our scans show the nuclear engines are running, but we don’t know their available power at this point.”

  X stared at the distant silhouette, considering the orders he was about to give. He didn’t want to risk more lives, but they had no choice. “Keep Raven’s Claw here,” he replied. “We’ll take in the boats to board it. You sink that bastard if I give the order, even if I’m still on it. Got it?”

  “Pues, sí, my capitán.”

  Magnolia looked at X, clearly wanting to say something.

  “Let’s go,” X said.

  He jerked his chin, and Miles got up to follow him, Magnolia, and Ton down through the interior ladders to the deck. The small boats were already being lowered onto rough chop below.

  “Over here, King Xavier,” said Slayer.

  X joined the Barracuda warrior. Five fellow Cazadores stood with him, armed with the last of the armor-piercing rounds.

  “Let’s move out!” X shouted.

  The fifty-five warriors on the deck started down the rope ladders to the boats. X bent down in front of Miles.

  “I’m sorry, boy, but you got to stay here,” he said.

  X kissed the dog on his wet head and started climbing down after the Barracuda squad, trying his best to ignore the indignant barking from his loyal companion.

  Magnolia and Ton followed him down the rope ladder to the boat.

  They unlatched, and Slayer fired up the motor. The bow thumped over the waves, heading toward the monster ship a mile away. X secured his helmet and bumped on his night-vision goggles, seeing the ship’s outline in the green hue.

  The ship had eight acres of flight deck that once supported dozens of advanced aircraft—all rendered useless in World War III, when EMP weapons knocked them from the sky.

  All X could see was the control-and-command island standing six stories tall.

  Five other boats fanned out, and the wind drowned out the last of Miles’s barking. X focused on the supercarrier, putting aside all his worries about the Hell Divers, the Vanguard Islands, and those they had lost.

  As the tiny boat sped over the waves, the ITC Ranger seemed to grow even bigger. X felt like a sardine confronting a whale.

  X checked his rifle and faced the team. “Stay on me,” he said. “You see anything off, you report it.”

  Slayer repeated the command in Spanish, and the warriors nodded.

  “You sure you don’t want to just sink the bitch?” Magnolia asked.

  X had considered doing just that, but they were low on ammo, and it would take a lot to scuttle the floating city. Boarding the vessel was worth the risk if it meant gaining desperately needed supplies.

  “Yeah, I’m sure,” he said after a pause. “Now, do your thing, but be careful.”

  “You got it.”

  Magnolia reached over her back and hit her booster. The balloon popped out, filling with helium and whisking her up off the deck. At two thousand feet, she pulled the capewells, cutting away from the helium bag and falling back toward the ship. Seconds later, she had deployed her reserve parachute and was steering over toward the towering deck of the supercarrier.

  “She’s a crazy one,” Slayer said.

  “You have no idea,” X muttered.

  He lost sight of Magnolia, then saw her parachute a moment later as she sailed over the deck and touched down.

  Five minutes later, she threw a cable down.

  “Good to go,” she said over the private comm channel.

  X secured a cable rider and clicked the button. It plucked him off the boat and ran him toward the ship like laundry on a clothesline.

  Magnolia met him at the top and motioned for him to follow. The other teams quickly joined them, bringing their rifles up and walking a few steps before stopping short.

  When X saw what had them spooked, he held up a fist and crouched.

  The metal carcasses of defectors littered the deck where they had fallen, in neat ranks like soldiers waiting to march. X could almost picture the deck full of them, their laser rifles still grip
ped in their hard, cold fingers.

  It was a gold mine of weapons.

  Once, X might have smiled, but no longer. Smiling could lead to the slightest relaxation of one’s vigilance in the wastes, which could shorten your life.

  “On me,” X growled.

  He flashed hand signals to the five teams. They spread out, weapons trained on the titanium-alloy machines that had caused the end of the world and, very nearly, the extinction of humanity along with it. They had hunted the humans down like dogs.

  Not dogs, X thought. More like rats, cockroaches. Like goddamn vermin.

  Gran Jefe led the way with a .50-caliber chain gun that he carried at his hip, sweeping the barrels over the deck. Bromista and Slayer were on the big Cazador’s flanks with their assault rifles shouldered.

  The wind blasted against their armor, and the heavy rain cut visibility to a few feet as they made their way through the scrapyard.

  X bumped on the command channel. “Captain, bring up the engineers with their escorts,” he said. “I want every laser rifle detached and secured for transport.”

  General Forge looked over. He was leading his team toward the superstructure. He gave a nod of his spiked helmet, and X nodded back.

  Lieutenant Wynn and the militia teams headed belowdecks to the engine room, and X went with Ton, Magnolia, and the Barracudas to search for any vehicles in the cargo holds.

  One team remained topside to secure the deck while the engineers and techs were brought up to the salvage operation.

  “Captain, got a lock on?” X asked.

  “Locked and loaded, King Xavier,” replied Two Skulls.

  “Good. We’re headed belowdecks, over.”

  X tried the handle on the nearest hatch. It clicked open, and he nodded at Magnolia, the fastest and lightest of the group. X pushed the hatch open for her.

  Their helmet lights clicked on, and X shut off his NVGs as they started down into the bowels of the ship, searching for the cavernous cargo hold that had once held most of the aircraft.

  They didn’t have anyone who could fly one, anyway, but holy Siren shit did he hope there was equipment that still worked!