A few minutes later, they were tied up alongside the wharf and first Van Houten, and then Doc were helped out of the launch. Doc's guards once again led the way as he was taken into a building that appeared to have been carved out of the interior of the dome. It wasn't long before he was locked in a new cell, deep inside the mountain.
This one was larger than on the flying wing, about ten feet deep by fifteen wide, and at least eight feet high. Two narrow light pipes in the ceiling provided a surprising amount of illumination. Carved from solid rock, it had no furnishings beyond a pile of straw in the far corner and the obligatory two buckets; one with a cup chained to the handle. That wasn't what caught Doc's attention; it was the other prisoner.
He could only see the back of her head, but her mask looked very familiar.
#
A shot rang out.
Vic tried to protect her head as best she could as she fell into the hold, curling into as much of a fetal position as she could manage. The first thing she noticed were the bags strewn across the base of the hold, several of which were split open to reveal they contained nothing but jagged rocks. The next thing was the cargo net strung across the hold above the rocks.
The net gave as she hit it, then bounced her up as Ming followed, twisting in mid-air. Ming hit the net limp and just lay there on her back as a man's laughter floated down from above them. Blood dripped from her back onto the bags below.
“Ming!” Vic screamed and started worming her way across the netting towards the smaller woman. Every time a drop of blood hit the bags Vic winced in sympathy, forcing herself to move faster. Without the use of her arms, she pushed her face into the netting as tears flowed into the scratches.
Ming didn't respond.
Vic finally reached her, laying her head on Ming's chest and sobbing. She wasn't sure how long she lay there, but by the time she came back to her senses the front of Ming's blouse was soaked with tears. The ship was moving, not fast, but the sound of the engines filled the hull like a giant heartbeat. She moved her head just a little, ignoring the moisture on her face and laid it down above Ming's heart.
Then she felt it, it was faint but it was there; Ming had a heartbeat.
Vic caught her breath. Ming was alive, maybe there was a chance. All her efforts in the truck had been useless, her bonds were as tight as they had been from the beginning; she wasn't going to be able to untie them any time soon. But maybe that wasn’t the only way to get free.
Light streamed from a pair of open hatches a dozen feet above them. Looking around the hold, she tried to find something she could use to free herself. There was nothing on the net except the two of them. Some of the rocks spilling from the sacks below looked sharp enough to cut rope, but the mesh was too fine for her to wriggle through. The net was suspended from tie-downs that lined the inside of the hold and it was only another ten or twelve feet to the deck below.
Blinking away her tears, Vic started to worm her way towards the edge of the net. Once she reached the edge, she looked for a place to land. The bags had been piled in the center of the hold for stability, so the bare deck was at least twelve feet below her. Pulling back, she twisted herself into an upright position, facing the inside of the hull.
Vic slung her legs over the side so they were dangling, and took a couple of deep breaths, counting the rivets on the plates in front of her. She had about a foot and a half of space between her and the steel, then an almost straight drop to the deck below. Scooting forward as best she could, Vic grabbed the back of her pants to keep her hands from getting hung up on the net and pushed off.
“Ow!” She bit back a yell as she smashed her nose into the hull, leaving a trail of blood. Everything went black from the impact, but Vic took advantage of it to twist herself sideways just before she hit the deck. Unable to see for a moment, the steel knocked the wind out of her, but she retained enough control to collapse her knees and roll forward onto her shoulder.
She took a moment to catch her breath, she ached everywhere and couldn't breath through her nose. Every breath had the bitter iron taste of blood. Both knees hurt, but nothing seemed to be broken, so she rolled over into a kneeling position with one shoulder against the hull. With a grunt, she forced herself upright, using the steel as a guide.
Once on her feet, she staggered over to the pile of bagged rocks, looking for a sharp one she could use to cut her bonds. It took a moment, but she found a good one right underneath where Ming hung unmoving in the net.
Vic felt the sharpness of the rocks the moment she sat down, as they dug into her flesh through her clothes. Grimacing at the pain, she leaned back until she found a sharp rock with her wrists. Having found it, she started rubbing her bonds against the edge, scraping the fibers across the stone. It hurt, but she could feel the strands begin to part.
Something wet hit her face, and she opened her eyes just in time for a drop of blood to land in her eye. The sting caught her attention and she started violently scraping her wrists across the stone, not caring if she cut herself along with the rope. It only took a few seconds before the first strands broke and she ripped her arms free. The first thing she did was rub her arms, trying to work some circulation back into them. Her wrists were bloody, but they were just scratches so she ignored them.
Once she was sure her hands were working, Vic pushed herself to her feet and headed for one of the ladders built into the side of the hold. Reaching the ladder, the first thing she noticed was a fire axe racked against it, which she picked up and slung through her belt. It was unwieldy as hell, but it was a weapon. Climbing the ladder took more out of her than she had thought, but she reached the net and started crawling back towards Ming, hoping she was still alive.
It wasn't far, but it took longer than she hoped. As soon as she reached Ming, she dropped her head to her chest, and was overjoyed to hear her heartbeat. Moving as gently as possible, she turned Ming over so she could get to the ropes and the wound. The back of Ming's top was black with blood, so Vic reached gingerly for the ropes. She didn't trust herself with the axe this close to Ming, so she dug away furiously at the knots. Now that she could get a proper grip on the rope, it only took a moment to loosen them, and get Ming's hands free.
As Vic moved Ming's arm out of the way to get a look at her wound, Ming cried out and sat up straight.
“You got shot. How are you feeling, are you all right?” Vic asked, swinging round to meet Ming's gaze.
“Am I all right? What about you? Your face is covered in blood!” Ming's words reminded Vic of the pain in her nose, but she forced a smile anyway.
“I didn't get shot,” Vic said, tears of relief streaming down her cheeks. “I thought they'd killed you.”
Ming moved her arm and winced. “Can you look at my back? Everything hurts.”
Vic turned around to look at Ming's back. There was a black patch in the middle of her back where the bullet had hit and a big bruise on her arm. “I hope this wasn't one of your favorite blouses.”
“No,” Ming gritted out. “It hurts though. Just tell me what you see.” She moved her left arm to where she could look at it and grimaced. “No entry or exit wound. The bullet must still be inside.”
Vic pulled up the back of Ming's blouse to see nothing but red where the blood had soaked through the back of her girdle and bra. “All I can see is your underwear, it's soaked with blood.”
“I knew that.” Ming twisted around but not far enough to glare at Vic. “I can feel the blood, but what about the bullet?”
Vic probed Ming's back with her fingers, looking for the wound.
“Just undo them, they fasten at the back just like yours.”
Vic nodded, then remembered Ming couldn't see her. “Okay.”
Taking a deep breath, she reached up and undid the hook on the back of Ming's bra. The right side fell away easily, but when she tried to pull on the left side Ming jumped. Vic leaned forward for a better look, and saw a dull glint in the cloth. “Hold on, I think I see the bullet.
”
“What do you mean, you see the bullet?”
“It looks like it's caught in the back of your bra.”
“Caught in my bra?”
“Yeah, like it didn't go all the way in.” Vic took another, closer, look. “It's a small pistol bullet, must not have had a full charge. I don’t think it’s too serious.”
“Who's the doctor?” Ming muttered barely loud enough for Vic to hear.
“You are.”
“Good, you're learning; but you're still going to have to take it out.”
It was all Vic could do not to stick out her tongue at Ming's tone, but somehow she restrained herself despite her relief. “All right, what do I do first?”
“Start by pulling the back of my bra free, but do it slowly. I don't want the bullet to come out until we have something to plug the hole.”
Vic pulled her shirt out of her pants and reached for the axe. Setting the hem against the blade, she picked a spot and ripped. The screech of cloth caught her by surprise, and she looked up reflexively but there was no reaction from above. She took a couple of breaths to calm her beating heart before turning back to Ming.
“Okay, I have a bandage.”
“I thought I told you to pull the bra loose first.”
Vic sighed. “I heard you, but I wanted the bandage first.”
“Don't trust your own hands?” Ming must have been feeling better.
“It's not like a pilot's yoke,” Vic muttered, glaring at the back of Ming's head. “I'm ready now, so here goes.”
“About time.”
Vic shook her head and reached for the back of the bra. She slipped a finger between fabric and skin, stopping when she heard Ming's sudden intake of breath. “Am I hurting you?”
“No, go on.” Ming sounded like she was lying.
“You asked for it.” Vic slid her fingers along Ming's back, slowly pulling the sticky fabric away from the younger woman's skin. Ming tensed, but her breathing stayed steady as Vic carefully pulled the bra backwards. Once she had it clear all the way around the bullet, she started to pull gently. The bullet moved, and Ming gasped. “It's not going to work; I'll have to do both at once.”
“Just do it.”
Vic carefully folded the piece of shirt where she could reach it, clenched her teeth, grabbed the back of the bra near the fastener, and pulled. The cloth pulled free along with the bullet, and Vic slapped the bandage into place.
Ming yelped, then caught her breath. “You're going to have to cut the straps so I can get it off.
“Give me a sec.” Vic reached for the axe and slid it up behind Ming's bra while the smaller woman held the bandage in place. It took a moment because the axe was dull and she had to saw through the strap to cut it.
Once both straps were cut, Ming pulled the bra free and twisted around to face Vic. She cradled her left arm in her right. “I'm going to need a sling.”
Vic nodded, and set to work. Now that she was sure Ming's wound wasn't life-threatening, she was better able to focus on what she was doing. A few minutes later, they were both sitting upright in the net, with Ming's left arm in a sling. Vic squirmed round until she was sitting beside Ming and put her arm around the smaller woman, drawing her closer.
“I'm sorry.” Ming broke the silence after a few moments. “I shouldn't have been so mean to you.”
“Don't worry about it,” Vic muttered, hoping Ming kept looking down so she couldn't see Vic's face.
“It's just that it hurt so much when you showed that passport saying you were Doc's wife,” Ming sobbed, “especially right after I introduced you to my grandfather. “
Vic leaned over and stroked her hair. “Hush, it's all right now. We're going to get out of this and you'll see your grandfather again.”
“It's not him, it's you.” Ming shook so hard that Vic had to hold her even closer so the net wouldn't bounce.
“I'm right here,” Vic said softly, “and I'm not going anywhere.”
“I know.” Ming started to sniffle.
“You'll be fine; you just got shot, so your emotions are all over the place.”
Vic winced as Ming punched her in the thigh.
“That's not it at all, you big hussy!” Ming hissed. “Don't make fun of my feelings.” She twisted around in Vic's lap until she was looking up at her and their eyes met.
She glared at Vic, and then her eyes softened and she tried to wrap her free arm around Vic's waist. “You're not listening.”
Something in Ming's tone caught Vic's attention and she leaned forward, keeping her eyes fixed on Ming's. “All right, I'm listening now.”
“I love you, you oblivious hussy!” Ming snapped. “That's why it hurt so much when you pulled out that passport. I was so sure you felt like me; that a woman didn’t need to marry a man to be someone. The first thing you ever said to me was that you weren’t married. Then when you pulled out that passport it felt like you’d been lying the whole time. That deep down you felt a woman did need a man to be complete. I felt betrayed; it was like I was nothing to you because you couldn’t even show me the real Vic.”
Vic's mouth dropped open. All she could see was a pair of dark eyes in a very serious face as Ming waited for her response. She took a deep breath, then another, as Ming's words replayed in her mind over and over again. Blood rushed to her face, but she didn't care. Vic blinked once, then twice, and the whole world fell out from underneath her. Her heart raced and everything finally fell into place. Images flashed through her mind, the way Ming looked after her, the cup of coffee before breakfast, the fire in her eye when she told Vic off. All the times people had told her that she made a perfect couple with Doc melted away as she understood why she had never felt the spark. Silently, Vic began to rock back and forth.
Vic opened her eyes just as a tear crept out of the corner of Ming's eye, and the younger woman's chin began to quiver. Not knowing what to say, Vic leaned forward and kissed her. Ming's eyes went wide in shock, and then she started kissing back. The kiss was brief, and then Vic pulled away. “I love you, too.”
“Why'd you stop kissing me, then?” Ming raised an eyebrow.
Vic pointed at her nose. “Couldn't breathe.” Then she caught a look at Ming's face, now streaked with blood, and she had to fight not to laugh. “I'm sorry, I got blood on your face.”
Ming grinned. “That's okay, I think I got more than enough blood on you.”
“So what happened?” Vic smiled back, still stroking Ming's hair. “What changed your mind.”
“I saw your face when you came back to me.”
Vic frowned. “I don't understand.”
“When you climbed back onto the net, I saw the blood and tears on your face. You didn't cry like that for Doc.” Ming reached out and stroked Vic's cheek. “That was when I knew what you felt for me.”
Vic hugged her. “Now all we have to do is get off this ship before they sink it.”
#
The door closed with an audible thump, and Tigress turned to face Doc. Somehow, she still had the mask, although there were a few rips around the shoulders of her dress, and her shoes had disappeared. “I suppose you're going to say 'I told you so'?”
Doc shook his head. “I think you've told yourself that already.”
She smiled, then reached up and pulled off her mask. “No need for this anymore.” Without the mask Tigress looked a lot like Ming. She was about an inch taller and a few years older, but her features and expression were very similar. She was definitely older than he would have thought from their first meeting.
Doc smiled. “I would reciprocate, but you have the advantage on me; I don't think I even own a mask.”
She laughed, and then waved her arm around the room. “Well, welcome to my humble abode; though I doubt we will be here long. I'm sure Van Houten will be getting rid of us as soon enough. He's probably just keeping us locked up until he can take the time to dispose of us properly.”
“Then we'll just have to make sure he doesn't g
et that chance.”
The walls were smooth, with two ports about four inches square on the outer wall near the ceiling. Doc put his hand beside one to find a slow movement of air. At least they wouldn't suffocate. They and the light pipes were the only openings beside the door. Except for the straw and gravity, it reminded him of his childhood. There was just something comfortable about being surrounded by volcanic rock.
“They're for ventilation,” Tigress said, waving at the ports. “You won't fit through it, and there's no way out except through the door.” She smiled wryly. “Unless you can dig through solid rock with your fingernails.”
“We may not have to.” He turned away from the wall and sat cross-legged on the floor, facing her. “But I would like to know a bit more of what's going on. You certainly didn't build a flying wing that big by yourself.”
After seeing the pursuits on the flying wing, he had a very good idea of who was behind things, but a little confirmation never hurt.
“So is that it?” Tigress glared at him and then rose and began to pace. “You're going to grill me for information and then go all White Man's Burden and save the poor Chinese woman? Is that your plan?”
“No, but we could try that if you prefer.” It was an odd suggestion for such an independent looking woman to make, but he didn’t want to argue.
Doc ducked as she ripped the cup off its chain and threw it at him.
“That's exactly the problem I'm talking about. You white men think you should run everything, and the rest of us have to suffer for it!”
Air Pirates of Krakatoa Page 11