Chapter 14: The Stadium of Drowned Ghosts
The water changed color as they entered the old Santa Monica district. What had been murky green-brown turned a sickly rust orange, stained by decades of submerged infrastructure bleeding chemicals into the current. Kaelen tasted metal on her tongue, even through the *Mirage*’s filtered air system.
“Nix, tell me we’re close to the checkpoint.”
“Three kilometers northeast. The old pier structure.” The AI’s voice—Mira’s voice—came through the cabin speakers, but there was a tightness to it now. A hesitation that hadn’t been there before the tunnel. “I’m detecting multiple hydrofoil signatures in the area. At least four.”
“Vipers?”
“Classification uncertain. Their transponders are masked.”
Kaelen gripped the steering yoke, feeling the vibration of the hydrofoils through the carbon fiber frame. The *Mirage* skimmed at sixty kilometers per hour, her hull barely kissing the wave tops. Around her, the ruins of beachfront hotels jutted from the water like broken teeth, their windows dark and empty. A Ferris wheel—rusted, half-collapsed—leaned at a forty-five-degree angle, its skeletal frame a monument to a dead era of leisure.
She’d brought Mira here once. A memory surfaced, unbidden: Mira laughing, her hair wet with sea spray, as they rode the roller coaster that used to run along the boardwalk. “See?” Mira had shouted over the wind. “There’s still joy in the world, Kael. You just have to look for it.”
The memory burned.
“Kaelen.” Nix’s voice cut through. “I’m reading a structure ahead. Large. Submerged.”
Kaelen blinked, forcing herself back to the present. “What kind of structure?”
“The old Los Angeles Memorial Coliseum. It’s partially flooded. The race course routes through the interior.”
She checked her nav screen. The checkpoint marker blinked at the center of the stadium’s outline. “Why would they send us through a stadium?”
“Spectacle,” Nix said. “The cameras can capture multiple angles from the upper decks. AquaNova wants dramatic footage for the broadcast.”
“Great. We’re entertainment.” Kaelen throttled up, the *Mirage* surging forward. The stadium rose from the water ahead, its iconic peristyle arches still visible above the flood line. The field level was completely submerged, a dark pool that reflected the gray sky like a mirror of oil.
She slowed as she approached the entrance—a tunnel that had once led to the locker rooms, now a gaping maw of darkness. The water inside was still, unnaturally so. No ripples. No current.
“Nix, scan the interior.”
A pause. “I’m getting interference. The structure’s metal framework is disrupting my sensors.”
“Great.” Kaelen killed the hydrofoils, letting the *Mirage* settle into the water. The hull rocked gently as she drifted toward the tunnel mouth. “Lights on.”
The *Mirage*’s forward beams cut through the darkness, illuminating a cavern of concrete and rust. The water was shallow here—maybe three meters deep—and the floor was littered with debris: collapsed seating, twisted metal, the skeletal remains of concession stands. The air smelled of mildew and something worse. Decay.
She guided the *Mirage* forward, the electric motor humming softly. The tunnel opened into the main bowl, and Kaelen stopped breathing.
The Coliseum was a cathedral of ruin. The upper decks rose in concentric rings, their seats empty and crumbling. The sky was a gray lid overhead, visible through gaps in the roof structure that had collapsed decades ago. The field—what remained of it—was a shallow lake of stagnant water, dotted with islands of debris. And at the center, floating on a platform of salvaged metal, was the checkpoint beacon.
It was too quiet.
“Nix, where are the other racers?”
“I don’t know. Their signatures have vanished.”
Kaelen’s instincts screamed. She throttled forward, angling toward the beacon. The *Mirage* cut through the water, her wake disturbing the stillness. She was halfway across the field when the first Viper hydrofoil erupted from behind a collapsed section of seating.
It came fast, its hull painted matte black with the Viper logo—a serpent coiled around a skull—glowing red on its side. The driver was a woman Kaelen recognized: Dax’s second-in-command, a scarred veteran named Sable. She’d heard rumors about Sable. Rumors that she’d killed three racers in previous Tides and called it “collateral damage.”
Kaelen wrenched the yoke, sending the *Mirage* into a hard turn. Sable’s hydrofoil missed by inches, its wake slamming against the *Mirage*’s hull. The impact rattled Kaelen’s teeth.
“Nix, I need speed!”
“The water is too shallow for full hydrofoil deployment. I can give you sixty percent.”
“Do it.”
The *Mirage*’s foils extended, lifting the hull clear of the water. Kaelen felt the acceleration press her into the seat as they shot across the field. But Sable was faster, her hydrofoil cutting a tighter arc, angling to intercept.
A second Viper emerged from the opposite side of the stadium, boxing Kaelen in. Then a third. They moved with practiced coordination, herding her toward the far wall.
“They’re trying to trap us,” Nix said.
“I can see that.” Kaelen’s mind raced. The stadium was a killing box. Open water, limited exits, and three predators. “Nix, find me a way out.”
“There’s a service tunnel at the north end. But it’s partially collapsed.”
“How partially?”
“The clearance is tight. You’ll have to submerge the hull.”
Kaelen looked at the water. It was the color of rust, thick with sediment. She couldn’t see the bottom. “What’s the depth?”
“Unknown. My sensors can’t penetrate the sediment.”
“Perfect.” She throttled toward the north wall, the Vipers closing in behind her. Sable was gaining, her hydrofoil’s engine whining at maximum output. Kaelen could see the driver’s face now—a mask of cold concentration, her cybernetic eye glowing red.
The service tunnel was a dark rectangle in the concrete wall, barely wide enough for the *Mirage*. Kaelen killed the hydrofoils, dropping the hull back into the water. The impact jarred her spine. She aimed for the tunnel, the *Mirage*’s nose dipping as she entered.
Darkness swallowed them.
The tunnel was narrow, the walls scraping against the *Mirage*’s sides. Water sloshed over the windshield, reducing visibility to zero. Kaelen relied on the sonar, a ghostly image of the tunnel’s contours appearing on her HUD.
“Debris ahead,” Nix said. “Collapsed concrete. You’ll need to go under.”
Kaelen saw it—a pile of rubble that blocked the tunnel from ceiling to waterline. The only way through was beneath the surface. She took a breath, then throttled forward, submerging the *Mirage* completely.
The world went silent. The cabin lights flickered as water pressed against the hull. Kaelen held the yoke steady, guiding the *Mirage* through the submerged passage. The sonar showed the rubble above her, a jagged ceiling of broken concrete and rebar. One wrong move and she’d be pinned.
She held her breath. The seconds stretched.
Then the sonar cleared. The tunnel opened up ahead, and Kaelen surfaced the *Mirage* with a gasp. Water streamed off the hull as she emerged into a smaller chamber—what looked like an old maintenance area. The ceiling was lower here, but the water was clear.
“We lost them,” Nix said. “For now.”
Kaelen let out a shaky breath. “Where does this lead?”
“There’s a drainage channel that connects to the old storm sewer system. It should take us to the checkpoint.”
“Should?”
“The maps are from 2075. The flooding may have altered the terrain.”
Kaelen guided the *Mirage* into the drainage channel, a concrete tube barely wide enough for the hydrofoil. The water was shallow here, forcing her to keep the hull submerged. The only light came from the *Mirage*’s beams, illuminating the algae-covered walls.
“Nix, why did they set that trap?”
“The Vipers were waiting for you specifically. They knew you’d take the stadium route.”
“How?”
A pause. “I don’t know.”
But Kaelen heard the hesitation in Nix’s voice. “You’re hiding something.”
“I’m processing data. There are inconsistencies in the race routing that I can’t explain.”
“Try.”
Nix was silent for a long moment. Then: “The checkpoint beacons are transmitting location data to a secondary receiver. Not the race officials. Someone else.”
“Who?”
“I can’t trace the signal. It’s encrypted with a protocol I don’t recognize.”
Kaelen’s hands tightened on the yoke. “AquaNova?”
“Possibly. Or someone within their organization.”
The drainage channel opened into a larger chamber—an old pumping station, its machinery rusted and silent. The checkpoint beacon floated at the center, a blinking light in the gloom. Kaelen approached slowly, scanning for ambushes. But the chamber was empty.
She reached the beacon and tapped her transponder against it. The light turned green. “Checkpoint logged.”
“Good,” Nix said. “But we have a problem.”
“What now?”
“The secondary receiver. It’s tracking our position. And it’s getting closer.”
Kaelen looked around the chamber. The only exit was the drainage channel she’d come through. “Can you jam the signal?”
“I can try. But it will drain my power reserves.”
“Do it.”
The cabin lights dimmed as Nix diverted energy to the jamming protocol. Kaelen waited, her heart pounding. The seconds crawled.
“Signal neutralized,” Nix said. “But I’ve lost twenty percent of my power capacity.”
“We’ll manage.” Kaelen guided the *Mirage* toward the far wall, where a set of metal stairs led up to a door. “What’s up there?”
“The old press box. It should have a clear view of the course.”
She killed the engine and climbed out of the cockpit, her boots splashing in the shallow water. The stairs groaned under her weight, rust flaking off with every step. The door was jammed. She threw her shoulder against it, once, twice, and it burst open.
The press box was a wreck. Windows shattered, chairs overturned, equipment smashed. But the view was unobstructed. Kaelen stood at the edge, looking out over the flooded city. The Coliseum spread below her, a bowl of rust and water. Beyond it, the ruins of Los Angeles stretched to the horizon, their skyscrapers like tombstones in the gray light.
She saw them then. Three Vipers, their hydrofoils circling the stadium like sharks. They were waiting for her to emerge.
“They’re patient,” she muttered.
“They have orders to kill you,” Nix said. “Not just eliminate you from the race.”
Kaelen felt the weight of that statement. “Valdez.”
“Almost certainly.”
She turned from the window, her mind working. “Nix, can you access the stadium’s old security feeds?”
“The system has been offline for years.”
“But the cameras might still have power. AquaNova would have wired them into the race broadcast.”
A pause. “I can try. But it will cost more power.”
“Do it.”
The cabin lights flickered again. Kaelen waited, watching the Vipers circle below. They were patient, but they were also predictable. They’d wait for her to come out the way she came in. They wouldn’t expect her to go up.
“I have a feed,” Nix said. “But it’s intermittent.”
“Show me.”
The HUD in her helmet flickered to life, displaying a grainy image from a camera mounted on the stadium’s roof. It showed the Vipers, their hydrofoils idling in the water. But there was something else. A fourth hydrofoil, approaching from the east.
“Who is that?” Kaelen asked.
The image sharpened. The fourth hydrofoil was battered, its hull patched with scavenged metal. The Rust Angels’ logo—a broken gear wrapped in thorns—was painted on the side.
“Jin,” Kaelen breathed.
The Rust Angels’ leader was coming fast, her hydrofoil cutting a straight line toward the Vipers. Kaelen saw Sable turn, saw the Viper driver raise a weapon—a magnetic harpoon launcher.
“No,” Kaelen whispered.
The harpoon fired. It struck Jin’s hydrofoil, the magnetic head latching onto the hull. Jin’s vehicle jerked, its momentum arrested. The other Vipers closed in.
Kaelen was already moving, running back down the stairs. “Nix, start the engine. Full power.”
“Kaelen, we can’t take three of them.”
“We’re not going to take them. We’re going to distract them.”
She dropped into the cockpit, her hands finding the yoke. The *Mirage*’s engine hummed to life. Kaelen throttled forward, bursting out of the drainage channel and into the stadium bowl.
The Vipers saw her. They turned, their hydrofoils pivoting. Sable’s voice crackled over the open channel: “The target is exposed. Take her.”
Kaelen didn’t slow. She aimed for the nearest Viper, her hydrofoil lifting clear of the water. The Viper driver tried to evade, but she was too fast. The *Mirage* slammed into the Viper’s hull, metal screeching against metal. The impact sent both vehicles spinning.
Kaelen fought the yoke, wrestling the *Mirage* back under control. The Viper she’d hit was dead in the water, smoke pouring from its engine. But the other two were closing in.
“Jin, get out of here!” Kaelen shouted into the comm.
“I’m not leaving you,” Jin’s voice came back, strained.
“You’re not helping me if you’re dead. Go. I’ll find you.”
A pause. Then: “The checkpoint at the old observatory. I’ll meet you there.”
Jin’s hydrofoil disengaged, limping toward the eastern exit. Kaelen turned to face the remaining Vipers. Sable was in the lead, her face a mask of fury.
“You’re dead, Voss,” Sable said.
“Maybe.” Kaelen throttled up, the *Mirage* surging forward. “But I’m taking you with me.”
She aimed for the gap between the two Vipers, her hydrofoil cutting a tight line. Sable fired a harpoon, but Kaelen swerved, the projectile missing by inches. She was through, racing toward the eastern exit.
The Vipers gave chase, but Kaelen had the lead. She burst out of the stadium, the open water of the flooded city stretching before her. The checkpoint at the observatory was ten kilometers away.
She could make it.
“Nix, status.”
“Power at sixty percent. Hull damage minimal. But the jamming protocol is still active. I can’t maintain it much longer.”
“Drop it. We’re clear.”
The cabin lights brightened as Nix released the jamming. Kaelen felt the *Mirage* respond, the engine humming with renewed strength.
“Kaelen,” Nix said. “I need to tell you something.”
“What?”
“The secondary receiver. I traced it. It’s not AquaNova.”
“Then who?”
A pause. “It’s the Rust Angels.”
Kaelen’s hands went cold. “What?”
“Jin’s hydrofoil. It’s transmitting our position to someone. I don’t know who. But the signal is coming from her vehicle.”
Kaelen stared at the horizon, the observatory a distant speck against the gray sky. Jin had saved her. Jin had died for her. And now this.
“Keep tracking it,” Kaelen said. “And don’t tell anyone.”
“Understood.”
The *Mirage* raced on, the ruins of Los Angeles blurring past. Kaelen’s mind churned with questions, each one darker than the last. She’d trusted Jin. She’d believed in the Rust Angels’ cause.
But in the Iron Tide, trust was a liability.
And belief was a death sentence.
“Nix, tell me we’re close to the checkpoint.”
“Three kilometers northeast. The old pier structure.” The AI’s voice—Mira’s voice—came through the cabin speakers, but there was a tightness to it now. A hesitation that hadn’t been there before the tunnel. “I’m detecting multiple hydrofoil signatures in the area. At least four.”
“Vipers?”
“Classification uncertain. Their transponders are masked.”
Kaelen gripped the steering yoke, feeling the vibration of the hydrofoils through the carbon fiber frame. The *Mirage* skimmed at sixty kilometers per hour, her hull barely kissing the wave tops. Around her, the ruins of beachfront hotels jutted from the water like broken teeth, their windows dark and empty. A Ferris wheel—rusted, half-collapsed—leaned at a forty-five-degree angle, its skeletal frame a monument to a dead era of leisure.
She’d brought Mira here once. A memory surfaced, unbidden: Mira laughing, her hair wet with sea spray, as they rode the roller coaster that used to run along the boardwalk. “See?” Mira had shouted over the wind. “There’s still joy in the world, Kael. You just have to look for it.”
The memory burned.
“Kaelen.” Nix’s voice cut through. “I’m reading a structure ahead. Large. Submerged.”
Kaelen blinked, forcing herself back to the present. “What kind of structure?”
“The old Los Angeles Memorial Coliseum. It’s partially flooded. The race course routes through the interior.”
She checked her nav screen. The checkpoint marker blinked at the center of the stadium’s outline. “Why would they send us through a stadium?”
“Spectacle,” Nix said. “The cameras can capture multiple angles from the upper decks. AquaNova wants dramatic footage for the broadcast.”
“Great. We’re entertainment.” Kaelen throttled up, the *Mirage* surging forward. The stadium rose from the water ahead, its iconic peristyle arches still visible above the flood line. The field level was completely submerged, a dark pool that reflected the gray sky like a mirror of oil.
She slowed as she approached the entrance—a tunnel that had once led to the locker rooms, now a gaping maw of darkness. The water inside was still, unnaturally so. No ripples. No current.
“Nix, scan the interior.”
A pause. “I’m getting interference. The structure’s metal framework is disrupting my sensors.”
“Great.” Kaelen killed the hydrofoils, letting the *Mirage* settle into the water. The hull rocked gently as she drifted toward the tunnel mouth. “Lights on.”
The *Mirage*’s forward beams cut through the darkness, illuminating a cavern of concrete and rust. The water was shallow here—maybe three meters deep—and the floor was littered with debris: collapsed seating, twisted metal, the skeletal remains of concession stands. The air smelled of mildew and something worse. Decay.
She guided the *Mirage* forward, the electric motor humming softly. The tunnel opened into the main bowl, and Kaelen stopped breathing.
The Coliseum was a cathedral of ruin. The upper decks rose in concentric rings, their seats empty and crumbling. The sky was a gray lid overhead, visible through gaps in the roof structure that had collapsed decades ago. The field—what remained of it—was a shallow lake of stagnant water, dotted with islands of debris. And at the center, floating on a platform of salvaged metal, was the checkpoint beacon.
It was too quiet.
“Nix, where are the other racers?”
“I don’t know. Their signatures have vanished.”
Kaelen’s instincts screamed. She throttled forward, angling toward the beacon. The *Mirage* cut through the water, her wake disturbing the stillness. She was halfway across the field when the first Viper hydrofoil erupted from behind a collapsed section of seating.
It came fast, its hull painted matte black with the Viper logo—a serpent coiled around a skull—glowing red on its side. The driver was a woman Kaelen recognized: Dax’s second-in-command, a scarred veteran named Sable. She’d heard rumors about Sable. Rumors that she’d killed three racers in previous Tides and called it “collateral damage.”
Kaelen wrenched the yoke, sending the *Mirage* into a hard turn. Sable’s hydrofoil missed by inches, its wake slamming against the *Mirage*’s hull. The impact rattled Kaelen’s teeth.
“Nix, I need speed!”
“The water is too shallow for full hydrofoil deployment. I can give you sixty percent.”
“Do it.”
The *Mirage*’s foils extended, lifting the hull clear of the water. Kaelen felt the acceleration press her into the seat as they shot across the field. But Sable was faster, her hydrofoil cutting a tighter arc, angling to intercept.
A second Viper emerged from the opposite side of the stadium, boxing Kaelen in. Then a third. They moved with practiced coordination, herding her toward the far wall.
“They’re trying to trap us,” Nix said.
“I can see that.” Kaelen’s mind raced. The stadium was a killing box. Open water, limited exits, and three predators. “Nix, find me a way out.”
“There’s a service tunnel at the north end. But it’s partially collapsed.”
“How partially?”
“The clearance is tight. You’ll have to submerge the hull.”
Kaelen looked at the water. It was the color of rust, thick with sediment. She couldn’t see the bottom. “What’s the depth?”
“Unknown. My sensors can’t penetrate the sediment.”
“Perfect.” She throttled toward the north wall, the Vipers closing in behind her. Sable was gaining, her hydrofoil’s engine whining at maximum output. Kaelen could see the driver’s face now—a mask of cold concentration, her cybernetic eye glowing red.
The service tunnel was a dark rectangle in the concrete wall, barely wide enough for the *Mirage*. Kaelen killed the hydrofoils, dropping the hull back into the water. The impact jarred her spine. She aimed for the tunnel, the *Mirage*’s nose dipping as she entered.
Darkness swallowed them.
The tunnel was narrow, the walls scraping against the *Mirage*’s sides. Water sloshed over the windshield, reducing visibility to zero. Kaelen relied on the sonar, a ghostly image of the tunnel’s contours appearing on her HUD.
“Debris ahead,” Nix said. “Collapsed concrete. You’ll need to go under.”
Kaelen saw it—a pile of rubble that blocked the tunnel from ceiling to waterline. The only way through was beneath the surface. She took a breath, then throttled forward, submerging the *Mirage* completely.
The world went silent. The cabin lights flickered as water pressed against the hull. Kaelen held the yoke steady, guiding the *Mirage* through the submerged passage. The sonar showed the rubble above her, a jagged ceiling of broken concrete and rebar. One wrong move and she’d be pinned.
She held her breath. The seconds stretched.
Then the sonar cleared. The tunnel opened up ahead, and Kaelen surfaced the *Mirage* with a gasp. Water streamed off the hull as she emerged into a smaller chamber—what looked like an old maintenance area. The ceiling was lower here, but the water was clear.
“We lost them,” Nix said. “For now.”
Kaelen let out a shaky breath. “Where does this lead?”
“There’s a drainage channel that connects to the old storm sewer system. It should take us to the checkpoint.”
“Should?”
“The maps are from 2075. The flooding may have altered the terrain.”
Kaelen guided the *Mirage* into the drainage channel, a concrete tube barely wide enough for the hydrofoil. The water was shallow here, forcing her to keep the hull submerged. The only light came from the *Mirage*’s beams, illuminating the algae-covered walls.
“Nix, why did they set that trap?”
“The Vipers were waiting for you specifically. They knew you’d take the stadium route.”
“How?”
A pause. “I don’t know.”
But Kaelen heard the hesitation in Nix’s voice. “You’re hiding something.”
“I’m processing data. There are inconsistencies in the race routing that I can’t explain.”
“Try.”
Nix was silent for a long moment. Then: “The checkpoint beacons are transmitting location data to a secondary receiver. Not the race officials. Someone else.”
“Who?”
“I can’t trace the signal. It’s encrypted with a protocol I don’t recognize.”
Kaelen’s hands tightened on the yoke. “AquaNova?”
“Possibly. Or someone within their organization.”
The drainage channel opened into a larger chamber—an old pumping station, its machinery rusted and silent. The checkpoint beacon floated at the center, a blinking light in the gloom. Kaelen approached slowly, scanning for ambushes. But the chamber was empty.
She reached the beacon and tapped her transponder against it. The light turned green. “Checkpoint logged.”
“Good,” Nix said. “But we have a problem.”
“What now?”
“The secondary receiver. It’s tracking our position. And it’s getting closer.”
Kaelen looked around the chamber. The only exit was the drainage channel she’d come through. “Can you jam the signal?”
“I can try. But it will drain my power reserves.”
“Do it.”
The cabin lights dimmed as Nix diverted energy to the jamming protocol. Kaelen waited, her heart pounding. The seconds crawled.
“Signal neutralized,” Nix said. “But I’ve lost twenty percent of my power capacity.”
“We’ll manage.” Kaelen guided the *Mirage* toward the far wall, where a set of metal stairs led up to a door. “What’s up there?”
“The old press box. It should have a clear view of the course.”
She killed the engine and climbed out of the cockpit, her boots splashing in the shallow water. The stairs groaned under her weight, rust flaking off with every step. The door was jammed. She threw her shoulder against it, once, twice, and it burst open.
The press box was a wreck. Windows shattered, chairs overturned, equipment smashed. But the view was unobstructed. Kaelen stood at the edge, looking out over the flooded city. The Coliseum spread below her, a bowl of rust and water. Beyond it, the ruins of Los Angeles stretched to the horizon, their skyscrapers like tombstones in the gray light.
She saw them then. Three Vipers, their hydrofoils circling the stadium like sharks. They were waiting for her to emerge.
“They’re patient,” she muttered.
“They have orders to kill you,” Nix said. “Not just eliminate you from the race.”
Kaelen felt the weight of that statement. “Valdez.”
“Almost certainly.”
She turned from the window, her mind working. “Nix, can you access the stadium’s old security feeds?”
“The system has been offline for years.”
“But the cameras might still have power. AquaNova would have wired them into the race broadcast.”
A pause. “I can try. But it will cost more power.”
“Do it.”
The cabin lights flickered again. Kaelen waited, watching the Vipers circle below. They were patient, but they were also predictable. They’d wait for her to come out the way she came in. They wouldn’t expect her to go up.
“I have a feed,” Nix said. “But it’s intermittent.”
“Show me.”
The HUD in her helmet flickered to life, displaying a grainy image from a camera mounted on the stadium’s roof. It showed the Vipers, their hydrofoils idling in the water. But there was something else. A fourth hydrofoil, approaching from the east.
“Who is that?” Kaelen asked.
The image sharpened. The fourth hydrofoil was battered, its hull patched with scavenged metal. The Rust Angels’ logo—a broken gear wrapped in thorns—was painted on the side.
“Jin,” Kaelen breathed.
The Rust Angels’ leader was coming fast, her hydrofoil cutting a straight line toward the Vipers. Kaelen saw Sable turn, saw the Viper driver raise a weapon—a magnetic harpoon launcher.
“No,” Kaelen whispered.
The harpoon fired. It struck Jin’s hydrofoil, the magnetic head latching onto the hull. Jin’s vehicle jerked, its momentum arrested. The other Vipers closed in.
Kaelen was already moving, running back down the stairs. “Nix, start the engine. Full power.”
“Kaelen, we can’t take three of them.”
“We’re not going to take them. We’re going to distract them.”
She dropped into the cockpit, her hands finding the yoke. The *Mirage*’s engine hummed to life. Kaelen throttled forward, bursting out of the drainage channel and into the stadium bowl.
The Vipers saw her. They turned, their hydrofoils pivoting. Sable’s voice crackled over the open channel: “The target is exposed. Take her.”
Kaelen didn’t slow. She aimed for the nearest Viper, her hydrofoil lifting clear of the water. The Viper driver tried to evade, but she was too fast. The *Mirage* slammed into the Viper’s hull, metal screeching against metal. The impact sent both vehicles spinning.
Kaelen fought the yoke, wrestling the *Mirage* back under control. The Viper she’d hit was dead in the water, smoke pouring from its engine. But the other two were closing in.
“Jin, get out of here!” Kaelen shouted into the comm.
“I’m not leaving you,” Jin’s voice came back, strained.
“You’re not helping me if you’re dead. Go. I’ll find you.”
A pause. Then: “The checkpoint at the old observatory. I’ll meet you there.”
Jin’s hydrofoil disengaged, limping toward the eastern exit. Kaelen turned to face the remaining Vipers. Sable was in the lead, her face a mask of fury.
“You’re dead, Voss,” Sable said.
“Maybe.” Kaelen throttled up, the *Mirage* surging forward. “But I’m taking you with me.”
She aimed for the gap between the two Vipers, her hydrofoil cutting a tight line. Sable fired a harpoon, but Kaelen swerved, the projectile missing by inches. She was through, racing toward the eastern exit.
The Vipers gave chase, but Kaelen had the lead. She burst out of the stadium, the open water of the flooded city stretching before her. The checkpoint at the observatory was ten kilometers away.
She could make it.
“Nix, status.”
“Power at sixty percent. Hull damage minimal. But the jamming protocol is still active. I can’t maintain it much longer.”
“Drop it. We’re clear.”
The cabin lights brightened as Nix released the jamming. Kaelen felt the *Mirage* respond, the engine humming with renewed strength.
“Kaelen,” Nix said. “I need to tell you something.”
“What?”
“The secondary receiver. I traced it. It’s not AquaNova.”
“Then who?”
A pause. “It’s the Rust Angels.”
Kaelen’s hands went cold. “What?”
“Jin’s hydrofoil. It’s transmitting our position to someone. I don’t know who. But the signal is coming from her vehicle.”
Kaelen stared at the horizon, the observatory a distant speck against the gray sky. Jin had saved her. Jin had died for her. And now this.
“Keep tracking it,” Kaelen said. “And don’t tell anyone.”
“Understood.”
The *Mirage* raced on, the ruins of Los Angeles blurring past. Kaelen’s mind churned with questions, each one darker than the last. She’d trusted Jin. She’d believed in the Rust Angels’ cause.
But in the Iron Tide, trust was a liability.
And belief was a death sentence.