Page 39 of Princess (Marinah and the Apocalypse #5)

Marinah

Landan contacted us before the sun came up.

He’d sent a scout back with a radio for his men watching the Federation in Louisiana and one for those at the airport waiting on us.

Radio frequencies attracted hellhounds, and they were a bigger problem when out in the open.

We used them only for urgent communications, and this was urgent.

Landan received word that the ships had left the harbor.

The Federation’s fleet was on its way to the island.

An hour later, Endura and Amissa stood at the entrance to the citadel, waiting patiently for me to hand Nikayla over. My arms were locked, and I would swear they actually ached. King had his hand on my back, his teeth clenched.

“She will survive,” said Amissa. “This I promise you.”

She didn’t say that King and I would survive. This could be the last time I held my child. Nikayla’s fingers closed around mine. She’d been up for several hours, which was unusual. Seeing her bright eyes with no fear and only trust almost undid me.

Maylin and Missy had already left for the southern part of the island. Ruth, Togg, and their small group of young fighters and families were with them, along with a large Shadow Warrior escort. The citadel’s staff were given the choice to go. Most stayed and went down into the closest tunnels.

I hadn’t seen Maylin since we discovered that she was injected with the damned serum that would change her into a hellhound when she died. I spoke to her briefly before they left.

“Ruth has sworn to take my head or have one of the Warriors do it if I die,” she said.

Ruth was a child. This was something Maylin should not have asked, and she’d counted on Ruth’s hatred of hellhounds to be greater than her feelings for Maylin. Che worshipped Ruth. The entire scenario was simply wrong.

“I had to.” Her eyes held more emotion than I’d ever seen from her. “If I’m with Che and the babies, they must be safe from me. Ruth understands. She will see it done when some might hesitate.”

I didn’t agree, but what could I say?

I had to leave my child. I would kill Maylin if she were a threat. This was such a fucked-up world.

I couldn’t seem to walk away. No one pressured me. They were holding the planes for us. I inhaled deeply, dipped my head and kissed Nikayla on the forehead, and turned her toward King. He gave her a kiss on the same spot mine landed. I closed my eyes and placed my arms out to Amissa.

When my arms were empty, King gathered me close.

I opened my eyes and took the first step towards the future.

I didn’t look back until right before the car turned the corner.

Amissa held Nikayla so her tiny head was upright and pointed in our direction.

Shadow Warriors stood with the Shadow Women, waiting to escort them to the southern tunnels. Our child would be safe.

Fuck, this was nearly impossible.

King took my hand. I didn’t cry. This wasn’t the time.

When we arrived at the airport, I stepped into the muggy heat.

Desmond walked up to me. I had no idea how he’d gotten to the airport. “I want to go with you,” he said.

Fury burned in his eyes. He was fifteen, and I didn’t want to be responsible for him.

“Why?” I asked.

“I’m good at what I do. I kept the children alive, and I can help you. The enemy won’t see me, and if they do, they won’t suspect me.”

He was a talented fighter, and there were other humans coming with us.

“You’re on our plane. Does your sister know?”

“Yes, she didn’t even beg me to stay.” He didn’t seem happy about that, and I almost smiled.

We boarded the plane, and the eyes of the men in the rows of seats held the same expression that was most likely on my face. They had left their loved ones behind, too. Some of us would not return. I was their leader, and I had to stay strong.

The plane’s engines roared to life. We were on one of five passenger planes.

They had been modified to carry and release a limited number of bombs.

We had one official bomber. Nokita piloted it.

The thing was rickety, but he’d worked on it for over a year now and trusted that it would do the job.

We had to take out Federation ships. The submarine had left the evening before and was on course to intercept the ships, too.

The flight was smooth for the first two hours. Then a tense silence took over as we waited for the first sight of the enemy.

“Ahead,” crackled over the speaker.

I stood with King, and we walked to the flight deck to see out the front windows.

The vast, open ocean stretched before us. The heavy, lumbering bomber, its belly loaded with missiles, flew to our right.

There was nothing King or I could do at this point. The Warriors’ lives depended on our pilots’ abilities to steer the planes clear of bullets from the Federation’s ships, and we knew the large lumbering jets couldn’t avoid them all.

"Target acquired!" came the crackle over the comms from the passenger plane on our left. "Three o'clock, five ships in formation!"

Nokita’s voice came over the radio next. “Alpha 1, 2, and 3 disengage. We have this.”

Our pilot steered the nose of the plane upward into the clouds. Alpha 4 and 5 would support Nokita in the attack.

We could not afford to lose the majority of our men, and splitting our forces was paramount. King and I returned to our seats. The men stared out the windows or looked straight ahead. No one spoke.

Behind us, the first explosion went off, rattling our plane. King lifted my hand and kissed the backs of my fingers. I clenched his hand tightly.

Another explosion, this one fainter.

The plane leveled out, and we resumed the flight to the Louisiana airstrip. King kept hold of my hand.

An hour later, we reached land and made a wide circle around the Federation camp so they wouldn’t see us. At least if we were lucky.

∞∞∞

Nokita

The bomber gave a slow, steady gurgle that was the best I could get out of the old engine.

The enemy was below, and I banked sharply, lining up for the first run.

Alarms would be blaring aboard the Federation ships, and men would be scrambling to their posts.

I watched the lead ship’s turrets swiveled in our direction. Bullets pummeled the sky.

“Now,” I yelled.

A missile dropped and plummeted toward the lead vessel. It was a miss. Our six-man crew had no practice. This was a learn-on-the-fly scenario.

I made a sharp turn and went back in.

“Ready!” yelled one of my men. Below us, the bomber's internal systems hummed, and the bomb bay doors cycled shut. We were ready for another pass. I wouldn’t keep the Federation waiting. My eyes locked onto the lead ship again.

I pushed the throttle forward, feeling the surge of power as the old engines strained. We were coming in low. Tracer rounds erupted from the ship’s weapons system. They peppered our wings. I focused on the target.

"Damage?" I yelled out.

"We’re good, Captain! Just cosmetic!" one of the men yelled back; his voice was a little too cheerful.

“Bombs away!” I shouted.

He hit the release. Another missile detached, tumbling toward the ship below.

A few seconds later, a blinding flash, followed by a loud boom, ripped through the air. A geyser of water and shrapnel flew skyward. The lead ship shuddered as several smaller explosions in the same vicinity rocked it.

“Fuck yes,” I yelled, realizing we hit stored fuel.

A cheer went up from my men.

“Can anyone see a sign of our sub?” I yelled over the roar of the engine.

“Negative.”

That wasn’t a bad thing. It would stay deep. If the sub hadn’t made it yet, their assault would happen without us. It was the old sub’s maiden voyage, too. So damned many things could go wrong.

Alpha 5, acting as a diversion, swooped low, drawing heavy fire. It was the newest plane we had, which didn’t say much. Not one of our air fleet was less than fifty years old.

Two seconds later, we took a volley from the second ship, and a sickening thud reverberated through the cockpit.

The #3 engine sputtered, and a plume of black smoke erupted behind us.

The plane bucked violently and I struggled to compensate.

I fought the control column, wrestling the old bird back into line, my knuckles white on the yoke.

I received a critical engine warning. This was no longer cosmetic.

If we pulled away now, we could possibly make it to the landing strip where Marinah waited. I peered at the crew. They were facing me and ready to die for our cause. I turned forward.

“Pull back,” I yelled at the two other planes through the radio. “We’re heading for land.”

An explosion below us had everyone gazing downward. The second ship shuddered and smoked.

“Who made that hit?” I yelled.

Alpha 4 and then Alpha 5 replied, “Negative.”

“It’s got to be the sub,” one of my men exclaimed.

Two ships down. The sub wouldn’t communicate with us and give away their position, but they might be able to hear me. “We’re heading back to land,” I said. This let them know we were disengaging and heading to the landing strip.

A strange sensation traveled down my spine.

“Alpha 4, Alpha 5, take the lead.”

I turned the bomber and circled back. I searched the water, having no idea what I was looking for. Another volley of bullets headed toward us. I banked to the right. I could see the third ship’s crew clearly, and they weren’t looking up. They were turned to the east.

An explosion from deep in the ocean rocked water and debris skyward.

The submarine. Our sub.

My heart dropped into my stomach.

All those brave men were gone.

And the Federation still had a submarine.

I banked the plane and turned toward the clear skies ahead. I was down an engine, and the men with me deserved to live. We had to make it to the landing strip.