The Drowned Cities (Ship Breaker #2)(65)

Gutty looked over. “Sure.”

The warboy went back to shaking a bottle of his acid. He squirted a little out and it smoked and hissed as it hit the boardwalk. “Bunch of the blood buyers come from over there. We got ’em all.”

He pointed at the succession of barges and logos. “Lawson & Carlson, they’re out of the Seascape. GE… dunno where. Stone-Ailixin, I think that’s from over in Europe. Patel Global, they’re Seascape Boston, too.”

“I thought the warlords—” Mouse paused, adjusting his words. “I mean, I thought we kicked the Chinese out.”

“Just the peacekeepers. If buyers got cash for bullets, we let ’em have scrap, just like everyone else. Long as they don’t try no more invading or telling us how to run a democracy or whatever, they can have as much marble and steel and copper as they want.”

Mouse frowned, thinking. Remembering Mahlia, and how everyone treated her as a castoff. And here everyone was happy to take bullets from the same kinds of people as who’d left her behind. All that patriotic talk about kicking China out of the country, and taking the country back, but they were happy to trade with Chinese companies. They’d kill castoff peacekeeper kids, but were willing to take China’s bullets?

The air whistled.

Mouse looked about, trying to figure out where the sound was coming from.

Beside him, a barge exploded. Debris screamed past.

The blast threw Mouse and Gutty into a wall. A chunk of granite rained off the building above them and shattered on the barge iron. More stone showered Mouse, cutting flesh. A granite slab slammed down beside him, shattering the boardwalk and leaving a hole down to the canal waters. He stared dumbly at the hole.

Where was Gutty?

Another whistling sound. Another barge exploded. The thing started to keel over, dragging mules and workers into the water. Screams echoed as the sinking barge dragged people under.

Chaos was erupting all around. People running, diving into the water, or crawling out of it. Everyone trying to escape the kill zone. Workers thrashed in water, tangled in their harnesses. Mouse’s ears rang with the explosions. The screams seemed distant. He’d lost his hearing, he realized. Another explosion dropped into the canal, sending up a spray of water.

The 999, he realized. It had to be. The Army of God had a 999, and they were dropping shells right onto him. He stared around himself, shell-shocked. Watching all the people thrashing and frothing and drowning.

A bunch of his squad were waving him at him from a window alcove.

Cover.

He dove for them as another shell hit. Somewhere behind, rifle fire opened up. Bright red blood stained the boardwalk before him. He started to panic, checking his body, but he had all his arms and legs. Where was the blood coming from?

Another shell whistled overhead. Everyone curled into balls as it hit the half-sunk barge. It was like the sky was raining fire and there was nothing they could do.

Mouse started to panic, but Van grabbed him. “Don’t you run, Ghost! You stick with your squad, boy!”

Mouse nodded dumbly as another shell hit the building beside them. Rubble poured down.

Ocho was staring up at the buildings around them. “How’d they get our position?”

Bullets ripped down the canal. Ocho ducked behind a fallen chunk of granite. Screams of animals and prisoners filled the air. Mouse’s ears were ringing. The bullets kept coming, bouncing off the walls like the Army of God had enough ammo to last them all the way to eternity.

All he had was a machete and an acid bottle. Mouse curled lower as more weapons fire ripped around them, showering them with shrapnel. Something slashed past his ear. He felt blood running down his face.

And he was one of the lucky ones. Gutty was gone. When the granite slab came crashing down, one second Gutty had been there, and then he’d been disappeared. Smashed and drowned, Mouse guessed. Gone. Just gone.

The 999 boomed again. Mouse tried to ball himself up even tighter.

They couldn’t run or swim back the way they’d come, because the godboys had gotten a pin on them from behind as well, and so now they were sitting ducks amongst the towers, waiting for the 999 to drop a whole building down on their heads.

Ocho stood and sprayed bullets down the length of the canal with his rifle. The boy must have been protected by his Fates Eye, because he didn’t take a bullet in reply, and then he was down beside Mouse again, back pressed against the granite.

“They got a spotter,” he gasped. “We find him and shut him down, we can get some breathing room.”

He nodded toward a building across the way. “They ain’t shelling that one.”

Pook scanned the building Ocho indicated. “You think that’s where they are?”

“It’s the only building they ain’t blowing up.”

The 999 went off again, and they all flattened themselves, but the round went somewhere else. Didn’t even explode. They all laughed.

A dud.

“How we doing, warboy?” Ocho slapped Mouse’s knee. “Ready to hurt these bastards?”

Mouse couldn’t form the words. He was shaking. His face was bleeding from some bit of shrapnel that had hit him and he didn’t know where it had come from.

He realized Ocho was looking at him. He tried to speak but couldn’t say anything at all. He was surprised to see that Ocho was smiling.