The Drowned Cities (Ship Breaker #2)(95)

“We got to get out of here,” Ocho said. He cut another strip of cloth and bound up his bleeding leg. When she didn’t listen to him, he tugged her shoulder.

“We got to get out, before they come back.”

Mahlia whipped around, her face a mask of rage. “You did this! This is your fault!”

Ocho held up defensive hands. “He was my boy, too! We were brothers.”

“He wasn’t anything like you!”

Ocho started to stutter out an apology, but then a wave of his own anger engulfed him.

“None of us asked for this!” he shouted. “None of us! We were all just like him. Every maggot one of us.” He dragged himself up against a marble column, set weight on his leg, wincing. “None of us were like this,” he said again. “We aren’t born like this. They make us this way.”

Mahlia opened her mouth to retort, but Ghost coughed and she turned her attention to her warboy. Ghost’s eyes were glazing, but he reached up to her. Pulled her toward him. Mahlia sobbed and cradled him close. It looked to Ocho like Ghost was trying to say something to her, whispering and coughing blood as he tried to talk.

Ocho turned away. What was he doing? He needed to get the hell out of here. Once the Eagles rallied, he was dead meat. He scooped up another abandoned rifle and started hunting for ammunition. He doubted the half-man—

A shadow fell over him.

Ocho looked up and gasped. The half-man loomed over him, his bestial face a mass of scars and battle lust. Blood drenched the monster’s features. Ocho was suddenly aware of how many bodies littered the command center. How quiet everything had become.

The half-man had killed them all. Every last one of them. The ones the monster hadn’t shot, he’d torn to pieces with his bare hands. Ocho had known the half-man was dangerous, but this was beyond anything he could have imagined.

The monster growled at Ocho and kept moving, dismissing him as unimportant, even though Ocho held a rifle.

What had he unleashed?

44

“MOUSE,” MAHLIA WHISPERED.

She cradled him in her arms. He seemed small. He’d always been small. But now, broken and torn, he was tiny. And pale. Much paler…

Blood loss, some part of her doctor’s mind told her. He was losing all his blood. She kept running through procedures that might help, trying to find some solution to the pool of ruby that spread all around them, slick and sticky.

Direct pressure, surgery. Plasma. IVs that she didn’t have. Painkillers. Raise the legs. Treat for shock. Airway, breathing, circulation. Stabilize. Operate.

All of it useless. She didn’t have the tools. All of Doctor Mahfouz’s teachings were useless.

Mouse reached up and touched her face. “How come I always got to do the rescuing around here?” he whispered.

Mahlia clutched him to her. “I’m so sorry.” Tears ran down her cheeks. “I’m so, so sorry.”

Mouse tried to talk. Coughed. “Can’t believe you followed me.”

“I had to.”

“No.” He shook his head, smiling tiredly. “That’s how I do.” He trailed his fingers through her tears, pushed at her chin, joking like he always had. “You’re supposed to be the smart one.” He coughed again, and blood stained his lips. He grunted in pain. “Should’ve listened to you, huh?”

A shell came down, shaking the building.

“I’m going to get you out,” Mahlia said.

“If you knew what I done, you wouldn’t say that.”

“I don’t care what you done. I’m getting you out of here.” She tried to rise, but Mouse reached up and pulled her close, surprisingly strong. Holding on to her like a vise as he stared into her eyes.

“You got to get out,” he whispered fiercely. “Get out and don’t ever come back.” His expression was fiercer than she’d ever seen. “You got to promise me not to die,” he said, and then he smiled at her, and his breath went out, leaving Mahlia clutching an empty body.

Tool crouched down beside her. “It’s time to leave. Long past time.”

Mahlia didn’t look up. She just held Mouse. “He’s dead.”

The half-man was silent for a moment. “I lost all of my pack as well. Remember him. Tell his story.”

“That’s not much.”

“It’s nothing. It’s what we have.”

The soldier sergeant, the one called Ocho, limped over. Mahlia could feel him looking down on her. “Get up, girl. You don’t get up, you die.”

“What do you care?” she said. “You’re the one who was trying to kill me.”

The soldier gave an exasperated sigh. “And now I’m the one that’s trying to save your maggot ass.”

The building rocked with another explosion. More followed. The ceiling rattled as shells crashed down in quick succession. Ocho and Tool looked up at the ceiling.

“Damn,” Ocho said. “That’s starting to sound serious.”

“The Army of God will be preparing an assault,” Tool said.

Ocho laughed at that, his expression grim as he scanned the command center. “They don’t need to bother. It looks like you just about killed every single one of the command staff. They can roll in anytime and we won’t know what hit us.”