The second Shaw reached the ladder, David shouted to Kamau, “Get us out of here.”
He took Kate by the arm, pulling her away from Chang and Martin, leading her belowdecks. “Martin’s burns are minor. Chang can handle it,” David said. His hand was tight around her bicep. She was soaked and utterly exhausted, but seeing him, knowing he was alive, somehow exhilarated her, gave her an indescribable rush. She felt… safe and free and… something she couldn’t even place— He slammed the door and latched it.
Kate pulled her wet shirt off and let it fall to the floor.
“We need to talk,” David said, still facing the door. As he spun around, his hard, angry face slowly turned to…
“Talk about what?”
He took her in. He unzipped his wetsuit, revealing his naked body beneath. “Let’s wait on that talk.”
CHAPTER 56
You’re listening to the BBC, the voice of human triumph on this, the eightieth day of the Atlantis Plague.
The BBC has learned that a group of Berber freedom fighters has taken control of the Immari base in the city of Ceuta.
Eyewitness reports describe a battle of staggering proportions on land, sea, and air. Casualty figures are not known at this time.
The loss of the base at Ceuta couldn’t have come at a worse time for the Immari, who just days ago deployed their ground forces from Ceuta in southern Spain. With Ceuta under enemy control, those troops now have no retreat, save for an evacuation by an Immari fleet. That possibility, however, may also be off the table.
The BBC has obtained classified RAF documents that indicate that they have mined the straits of Gibraltar, closing the Mediterranean.
The news of the Immari defeat is welcome news within the Orchid Alliance. With rumors of mounting death rates at Orchid Districts worldwide, many of our listeners have begun to wonder when the next shoe will drop, and for some, whether the Immari solution is the only one that makes sense. It seems there are still some who endeavor to fight for a world where everyone can be saved, and the BBC will continue to bring you reports of their heroism, so long as it exists.
CHAPTER 57
Northern Morocco
Dorian awoke to a searing pain in his side.
He rolled over and screamed in agony. The motion only intensified the pain. Whatever had hit him was still in him, digging, moving around his insides like a hot knife.
He ripped his helmet off, then bent over to see what had him.
The tree limb had speared him all the way through just above his pelvis, where his upper body armor ended. He gently unstrapped his body armor. The motion sent a second wave of pain through him, and he had to pause. He tossed the armor aside and pulled his undershirt back.
The limb was just a few inches from his side. Had it been farther in, it might have gotten his liver.
He gritted his teeth and methodically drew the wooden shard out, as if he were a medieval knight pulling an arrow from his side.
He inspected the wound. He was bleeding, but he would be all right. Right now he had bigger problems to deal with.
Even in the night sky, he could see three columns of smoke rising above the trees, the remains of the helicopter fleet burning.
Ceuta had no air support—it had all been deployed to southern Spain, but whoever had taken the base obviously had plenty of ground troops. Would they send them?
He got to his feet.
Screams—from the crash site. His instincts took over. He grabbed his helmet and body armor and ran toward the burning wreckage.
The helicopter had set fire to the forest and it burned violently, a wall of flame Dorian couldn’t see through. The screams grew louder, but Dorian couldn’t make out the words.
He donned the body armor, then the helmet, and ran around the perimeter of the fire, looking for a way through. On the other side, the fire wasn’t as thick, but he still had no clear line of sight to the helicopter. He thought he could make it through.
He drew his sidearm and tossed it on the ground, along with the spare magazines. He also placed his satellite phone on the ground. He tucked his hands in the armor and stepped to the edge of the blaze. The boots, suit, and helmet were fire-resistant, but there were limits to how much heat they could take, and then there were the parts of his body that the armor didn’t cover.
He drew a deep breath and raced into the fire. His feet pounded the ground. The burn was overwhelming. He held his breath, and… broke through the fire, into a small clearing. Dorian saw it now: three of the helicopters had gone down close to each other and their fires had joined, creating the ring. Each of the helicopters was in full blaze. Dorian wouldn’t get anything from them, and the screams hadn’t come from anyone inside.