Hunted [The Flash Gold Chronicles]

by Lindsay Buroker

  The reverence in his tone warmed her far more than the spring weather, and she forgot his fumbled words on the dock.

  “Just a little hobby,” Kali said. “You know I’ve been antsy waiting for the parts I ordered to come upriver. I’m calling this a self-automated bicycle.” Few bicycles had tires that thick and rugged—or a smokestack for that matter—but it was close enough. “It’ll take time to heat up the boiler, but it can take us up the trail at ten to twenty miles an hour, depending on the terrain. We can be at Sebastian’s claim in time to watch him cook us supper.” She pointed at the broad seat. “I made it big enough for two.”

  Cedar touched the head-high smokestack rising from the compact boiler in the back, then slid his hand along the sturdy black frame. “It’s fantastic,” he breathed.

  Kali grabbed a shovel from a coal bin in the corner, intending to load the firebox, but Cedar took the tool from her.

  “Allow me,” he said.

  “If it’ll make you feel useful.”

  “Your gratitude always warms me.”

  Kali smirked. “Are these the times you start thinking of shackles?”

  “Maybe.”

  Her humor faded. “Cedar, I’d like to ask a favor before we go. Can I give you something to hold for me? I, of course, figure I can handle myself in a brawl, especially if I have my tools, but I don’t believe an army could get through you.”

  Cedar, a shovel full of coal poised in the air, tilted his head, eyebrows raised.

  Kali checked outside the door to make sure nobody was lurking on their dock, then fished a tiny bundle out of her pocket. She unwrapped two vials filled with golden flakes that pulsed with soft yellow light.

  “With the help of my model, I’ve done some calculations,” Kali said, “and I don’t believe I’ll need the entire brick you saw to power the airship. I shaved off some flakes in case I need to use them on something to help you with Cudgel.”

  Cedar gazed not at the gold but at her face. “I’m not quite clear on what your flash gold does but I know it’s precious, especially to you. I appreciate this gesture.”

  “It’s a power source,” Kali said. “More than that, it’s...well, it has properties. You can imbue it with commands, sort of like teaching a dog to sit and stay. Nothing fancy, mind you, and not a long list, but, a sample as large as my brick could accept a series as complicated as a punchcard program for a loom. My father was working on even more complexity when he died. He was always disappointed I couldn’t...”

  A whistle of steam escaped from the vent. The bicycle was ready.

  “Never mind.” Kali pressed the vials into Cedar’s hands. “Take care of them.”

  “I will,” he said.

  PART II

  The self-automated bicycle or SAB, as Kali shortened it to in her mind, chugged over the uneven trail, its broad tires thus far handling the roots, rocks, and snow patches. The mud was more problematic, but it thinned as they climbed away from the morass pooled beneath Dawson.

  The sun came out, dappling the forest floor, and Kali found herself enjoying the trip. The road narrowed to a trail following the river, and she and Cedar had to duck periodic branches, but that did not bother her enough to tear the grin from her face. So far the SAB was doing well on its first expedition.

  The wildlife seemed less enthused with the machine. Whenever it neared, shrubbery thrashed as critters fled the trail. A part of her hoped a stubborn moose would stand in their path, staring them down, so she would have an excuse to try the steam horn.

  “When do I get to drive?” Cedar asked a couple of miles into the trip.

  “When you build one of your own,” Kali said over her shoulder.

  She was trying to ignore him and the fact that her lack of handles or grip bars for the rear passenger meant he had to use her to hold on. The sensation of hands resting on her waist—and twice all the way around her when they ascended a steep incline—was not...unpleasant but it made her think of things unrelated to mechanics and steering. Things that were wholly inappropriate, given that they were on a quest to find and kill someone.

  “Do you still not trust me fully?” Cedar asked. “Or are you simply unable to relinquish control over your devices?”

  She smiled. The latter, of course, but... “How can I trust a man with so many secrets?”

  “Are you referring to my name again?”

  “That and other things. Aside from those brief revelations at my old workshop when you were trying to enlist my aid against Cudgel, you’ve never spoken about yourself. You—”

  A shadow fell across the trail—a large shadow.

  “What’s that?” Kali slowed down.

  It disappeared as quickly as it had come, and beams of sunlight found the forest floor again.

  “A cloud?” she asked.

  “No,” Cedar said.

  Yes, that had come and gone too quickly to be a cloud. Eagles were common in these parts, but that had been too large a shadow to indicate a bird.

  Kali stopped the SAB and dropped her feet to the ground. Spruce and pine branches created a latticework overhead, impeding the view of the sky.

  “An airship?” she asked, thinking of the pirates who had attacked her in the dog sled race months earlier.

  “I don’t think it was that big,” Cedar said. “And it moved quickly for an airship. Listen.”

  With the chugging pistons of her vehicle stilled, Kali could hear more of the sounds around her. No hint of bird chattered cheered the forest. Something else sounded in the distance however. Faint clacks and clanks.

  “Some sort of machinery?” Cedar suggested.

  “Hm.” The sounds were already fading, as if they belonged to a vehicle driving—or flying?—away. The idea seemed preposterous. Who up here besides her made such things? The townsfolk of Dawson, while not quite as quick to curse her and call her a witch as those of Moose Hollow, thought her peculiar and her inventions doubly so.

  The sounds faded altogether, leaving the forest silent except for the soft rumble of her own vehicle’s idling engine and the rush of the nearby river.

  “Maybe it’s nothing,” Cedar said. “We could be close to a claim where people are using steam machinery.”

  “Or maybe somebody’s hunting me,” Kali said. When she had left Moose Hollow, she had not told anyone where she was going except her friend Nelly, and nobody had attacked her since she arrived in Dawson. Given the proximity of the two towns, and the size of the bounty on her head, she was surprised it had taken this long for anyone to find her.

  “A possibility,” Cedar said.

  “Should we take any precautions?” she asked, willing to concede to his wisdom when it came to matters of battle.

  “Yes.”

  “Such as?”

  “You should let me drive so I can familiarize myself with the workings of the vehicle.”

  She glared over her shoulder and found him smiling.

  “Are you truly using the possibility of a new and dangerous enemy to further your argument for why you should be allowed to play with my bicycle?”

  “If we’re attacked,” Cedar said, his smile widening, “and there’s an incident rendering you unconscious, I should know how to work this contraption so I can port you back to civilization.”

  “You needn’t look so excited at the prospect of my incapacitation.”

  “I merely believe in being prepared. May I drive?”

  “No.” Kali shoved the lever that controlled the speed, and the SAB surged forward. “If I’m knocked out, wave smelling salts under my nose. I’ll rouse myself enough to drive.”

  They continued onward for another hour, navigating around mud puddles and horse droppings on the trail. Twice more Kali heard the clanking sound in the distance, though whatever was making it did not venture close enough to be seen through the evergreen canopy. Nor did another shadow darken the path.

  They came to the edge of a meadow with the burned hull of an abandoned log cabin hunkering in
the middle. Half its roof had caved in, and the door hung from a single, rusty hinge. Drifts of snow framed the clearing, though it had melted in spots touched by sunlight, leaving patches of matted dead grass.

  The trail passed through the meadow, but Cedar gripped her shoulder before they entered it.

  “Stop here,” he said.

  “A likely ambush point?” she guessed.

  “Yes.”

  Kali gazed at the unimpeded expanse of sky before them. “I am reminded of the open area where that airship attacked us on our last outing together.” She eyed the sky again. She did not hear any of those clanks at the moment, but...

  “While I’d enjoy driving this,” Cedar said, “I’d prefer you be conscious at the time in order to give me instructions. Can we go around the clearing and stay under the cover of the forest?”

  She eyed the shrubs and brambles growing between the trees. “Not unless you want to cut a path with your sword.”

  “I don’t cut vegetation with my blade. It would take an hour anyway. It’s not that big of a clearing. We’ll chance it.”

  “If you say so.” Kali eased the SAB into the meadow. “I suppose if you’re wrong, there’s always the chance an assailant will target you first. You are larger and more menacing.”

  “I prefer I be conscious for my first driving lesson as well,” Cedar said. “And I’m dangerous, not menacing.”

  They had traveled less than a third of the way into the clearing when the clanks sounded. Kali should have groaned and sent an irritated eye roll to the heavens, but her curiosity distracted her. She wanted to see the source.

  She did not have to wait long.

  A metallic...contraption with giant mesh butterfly wings bobbed over the treetops. The clanks grew louder as it approached the meadow, and moving machinery came into the view. The wings flapped in synchronization with the clanks. Kali craned her neck, searching for another source for the craft’s propulsion. The large wings might keep the flying machine aloft once it gained momentum and found a place in the air, but they could not provide enough thrust to carry it into the skies. Could they? The metal frame appeared too sturdy to be light, and a compact furnace and copper boiler behind the pilot’s seat must add significant weight. Could magic be involved? Or even...flash gold? Was it possible there was more out there?

  Kali’s fingers twitched at the idea of clambering about the thing, investigating every inch. The rider sitting at the controls might object. Wrapped in brown, head included, the figure was impossible to identify, though from the slightness of the form, Kali guessed it might be a woman. The one who had eavesdropped on them? Goggles covered the person’s eyes, making it impossible to read her face, though Kali had a sense of determination.

  “...faster?” Cedar was saying.

  “What?” Kali had been so focused on the air vehicle and its pilot she had missed his words.

  “Can’t you go faster? She’s aiming for us!”

  Before she could answer, a rifle shot fired behind her ear. She flinched and nearly lost grip of the handlebars, a calamity that would have pitched them over sideways.

  She glanced back as Cedar fired a second shot. “What are you doing? She hasn’t even—”

  Something thumped to the earth ten meters before them.

  Cedar grabbed Kali’s arm. “Veer away. Veer away!”

  More on instinct—and his orders—than out of understanding, Kali pulled and pushed on opposing handles and leaned into a hard turn. They skidded as wheels ground on old snow, but they caught, and the SAB sped to the side.

  A concussive roar filled the clearing, and realization pelted Kali. No, that was shrapnel. It clanged off the SAB and hammered against the charred side of the log cabin.

  Kali turned again, figuring the structure could provide cover. “She’s hurling grenades at us?”

  “From a launcher in the front,” Cedar said. “It appears to be some sort of crossbow-like device, loaded with—”

  Another grenade hit the ground, this one exploding right away.

  Kali sped behind the wall of the cabin and yanked on the braking mechanism.

  “—multiple projectiles,” Cedar finished.

  Rifle in hand, he hopped off the SAB. Kali hesitated, reluctant to leave her vehicle for fear it would make an easy target if it was stationary. She probably ought to be more worried about being a target herself, but the idea of losing such a recent invention...

  Cedar leaned around a corner of the cabin to fire again. Kali nudged the SAB into motion, rounded the other corner, and found the doorway. She considered the width. Could she fit her vehicle inside? Probably not.

  Above, the flying contraption tilted, circling the end of the meadow to come back at them.

  Cedar grabbed Kali’s arm. “Inside!”

  “I don’t think it’ll fit,” she said.

  “I meant you!”

  The flyer flew closer, and Kali hesitated again, fascinated by the wings, the construction, and even the pilot. Was she the creator? Or had she merely purchased it?

  The projectile launcher fired again.

  “Kali!” Cedar pulled her toward the door.

  Kali barely had time to grab her packsack and rifle.

  An explosion rocked the earth, and she grabbed a log wall to keep her feet under her. Metal clanged as shrapnel hit the SAB. She growled, her awe over the steam flyer tamped down by her concern for her own vehicle. She dropped her packsack and readied her rifle.

  Shadows danced on the earthen floor of the cabin as the flyer soared overhead. Rhythmic clanks echoed from the log walls. Though the fire-damaged roof held copious holes, the vehicle sped past too swiftly to target.

  “We need a plan,” Kali said. “She’ll be coming around again.” And she would probably hurl the next grenade right in the cabin.

  Cedar loaded a fistful of bullets into his rifle. “Yes?”

  “The wings seem a potential target, but their surface area is great, so I doubt even a couple of dozen bullet holes would cause them to falter. A catastrophic boiler explosion will derail any steam engine, but engineers are well aware of that weakness and build them soundly. I doubt a bullet would pierce the plating, but it may be the most vulnerable part of the machine. Perhaps we should target the boiler and hope for the best.”

  “I was just going to shoot the pilot,” Cedar said.

  “Oh. I guess that could work too.”

  When the clanks of the flyer grew louder again, Kali and Cedar stepped outside. She dropped to one knee and leaned around the corner of the cabin, rifle to her shoulder. Cedar stood above her, his weapon poised as well.

  Something that looked like glass provided protection for the pilot, probably a deterrent to bugs and rain, but surely it would not stop a bullet. Kali eased her rifle up and placed the woman’s head in her sights. Her gut lurched at the idea of shooting at someone with the intent to kill—especially if that someone had invented that fascinated machine—but the woman was trying to blow them up.

  Her finger found the trigger, but Cedar, doubtlessly with fewer qualms, fired first.

  The bullet struck the protective shield in front of the woman’s eyes, and her head dropped out of view. The flyer lurched sideways and dipped toward the trees.

  “Bulls-eye,” Cedar said with grim satisfaction.

  But the flyer did not crash. Its nose elevated, and the craft skimmed the treetops. It knocked branches free with cracks that rang through the forest, but it soon flew higher again, out of danger. The flyer banked and turned back toward the meadow.

  The pilot’s head was visible again through the clear shield. Concentric cracks ringed the spot where Cedar’s bullet had struck, but it must not have penetrated.

  “Amazing,” Kali breathed. “There’s no way that’s glass. Unless it’s extremely thick, but the weight would be ridiculous, and a flying machine would need to be light, like an eagle’s hollow bones. It’d...”

  She trailed off when she noticed Cedar’s glare. He seemed less a
mazed at the invulnerable shield and more irked.

  “Sorry,” Kali said.

  “Let’s go back to your idea,” he said as the flyer drew closer again. “You said I should aim at the boiler?”

  Kali eyed the shield again. It protected the pilot to the front and the sides, but it was open on the top. Presumably the woman entered and exited the control seat from there. It left her no protection from projectiles from above, though she had no reason to anticipate weapons fire from overhead. Air vehicles were rare, and the flyer was quicker and far more maneuverable than an airship, so it could easily evade balloon-based transport.

  When it came in for another pass, Cedar loosed a few ineffective rounds at the boiler. Kali considered the structure of the craft, especially the supports for the wings, supports that angled upward behind the pilot. She closed her eyes, remembering problems she had worked through in her father’s mathematics books. At the time, she had been trying to win his favor by showing interest in his studies. He had been too busy to notice, but she remembered many of the lessons, and a chapter of geometry problems involving balls on a billiards table came to mind.

  “Same principle for bullets, right?” she murmured.

  “What?” Cedar asked.

  “See that support beam behind her?” Kali pointed. “You’re a better marksman than I am. Can you see if you can hit it...hm...about a foot above that joint?”

  Cedar threw her a bewildered look, but he raised his Winchester and aimed when the flyer came into range. It bobbed toward them, a grenade ready in its launcher. Cedar grew still, then fired.

  The bullet ricocheted off the angled support post and slammed into the back of the pilot’s shoulder.

  This time she screamed—the first sound she had voiced—and the craft lurched. It sped off, wobbling as it skimmed the treetops. The nose came up briefly, but it dropped again, and Kali lost sight of the flyer. A thunderous crack sounded in the distance.

  “Crash,” Kali murmured, imaging the twisted wreckage. She wished they could have downed the vehicle without destroying it.