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Back The Drowned Cities Save as PDF
Chapters (53)
  1. Welcome
  2. Dedication
  3. PART ONE
  4. 1
  5. 2
  6. 3
  7. 4
  8. 5
  9. 6
  10. 7
  11. 8
  12. 9
  13. 10
  14. 11
  15. 12
  16. 13
  17. 14
  18. 15
  19. 16
  20. 17
  21. 18
  22. 19
  23. 20
  24. 21
  25. 22
  26. 23
  27. 24
  28. 25
  29. PART TWO
  30. 26
  31. 27
  32. 28
  33. 29
  34. 30
  35. 31
  36. 32
  37. 33
  38. 34
  39. 35
  40. 36
  41. 37
  42. 38
  43. 39
  44. 40
  45. 41
  46. 42
  47. 43
  48. 44
  49. 45
  50. 46
  51. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  52. Contents
  53. Copyright

Ocho dragged himself over to them. He grabbed a dead Eagle’s pant leg and slashed it with his knife. They had real uniforms, he thought inanely. He’d never had a real uniform. More gunfire echoed distantly, followed by the cries of soldiers begging for help.

“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.