Crimson Sky: A Dark Sky Novel

by Amy Braun

  Corroded metal scratched my palms and fingertips. The tips of my boots slipped into open spaces and nearly swallowed my leg. I gritted my teeth and kept climbing. As I moved, I was able to hear Briggs begin a conversation with Sawyer.

  “Makes sense to blame the Abernathy’s,” Briggs said, halting my climb. “Every time Garnet sends their bitch daughter up here, I want to strangle her with my bare hands.”

  Sawyer raised his head slightly, looking at Briggs with confusion. “Daughter?”

  Briggs’ chuckle was harsh. “Kind of ironic, isn’t it? The daughter of those two failures is Garnet’s engineer.”

  He didn’t say my name, but he didn’t have to. There was only one female engineer working for Garnet Dayton. I hadn’t expected to tell the marauders who my parents were, but now there would be no avoiding it. The stakes had been raised to impossible heights, but I still had to try and reach them. I continued my steady climb.

  “But as much as I hate them, I blame the Kendrics more. They’re the ones who followed the exploration teams through the Breach, and they were the ones who started the fight with the Hellions.”

  “You don’t know that,” Sawyer said, so quiet I barely heard him.

  “And you do? You’re not that young, boy. You must have heard the stories about Robertson and Davin Kendric.” Briggs chuckled again. “We always thought that Robertson was the dangerous one, but it turned out his worst crime was raising that monster.”

  I didn’t argue with Briggs there. Of all the marauders, Davin Kendric was the most feared. He sailed on the Dauntless Wanderer with his father, but he was uncontrollable. As a child, I’d heard stories of Davin taking skiffs in the middle of the night without permission, traveling with Robertson’s most vile pirates, sneaking onto other ships, and attacking everyone on board. He didn’t steal the vessels or take most of the goods. Davin’s true goal was to instill fear. He was a formidable warrior and had no problem torturing and raping without mercy. But he never let any of his victims die quick deaths. After they were brutalized, he tied them to the main masts of their own ship, set it on fire, and careened it into the ground. Countless damage had been done and dozens of lives were lost in Westraven during his rampage in the years before The Storm, with Davin Kendric claiming proud responsibility for all of it.

  My parents had never fallen victim to one of Davin’s attacks, but I never forgot the day I came along the wreckage of a ship Davin had raided and crashed. I remembered the charred skeletal husks smoking against the mast, and knew the skies would never be safe.

  The Sky Guard tried to arrest Davin, but Robertson’s fleet was fast and intimidating. As long as Davin was under Robertson’s care, he was untouchable. My only solace was that both men were dead, killed at the hands of the Hellions.

  Recalling this only added to the mystery of how Sawyer found the Dauntless Wanderer, and why he was so desperate to revive it.

  Sawyer lowered his head back onto the table, muttering something I couldn’t hear this time. Whatever he said made Briggs laugh again.

  “No. Of course you’re not like them. But that doesn’t make you better. It makes you a scrounger, just like us. You obviously don’t work for Garnet, so I have to wonder how you survived so long. Did you hear the same rumor we did? Make a deal with the Hellions, perhaps?”

  That stopped my climb again. Sawyer said the exact thing that popped into my head.

  “You can’t reason with Hellions. They don’t chase us down because they want to chat. Not one of them speaks the same language we do.”

  “Well, we’ve heard that one of them does. He’s bigger than the rest. We heard from other unwelcome guests that the Hellions are looking for an engineer to regenerate something called the Vesper, and getting revenge. This engineer was supposed to have a key that will help them.”

  I nearly slid down the scrap pile when Briggs said that. He couldn’t have meant me, could he? How would the Hellions even know who I was? I shook my head and tried to tell myself that it wasn’t me at the center of this rumor.

  But my hands shook with every crawl. Unless there were other engineers running around with mysterious keys, I was the target of this Vesper. But what did the key unlock? Even if the Hellions found me, I wouldn’t be able to tell them what I didn’t know. They might not even stop to ask. Not when they could rip the key from my neck before tearing out the rest of it.

  I suddenly doubted the sensibility of my plan. But this rumor didn’t matter. I couldn’t turn back now. The Junkers had no intention to release Sawyer, Nash, and Gemma. I continued my climb, glancing down as infrequently as possible.

  “Looks like our fire’s almost ready,” I heard Briggs say, “so, which one do we want to start with?”

  “This one,” a deep grumbling voice–Brock’s– said, indicating Sawyer. He was standing by the generator’s crank wheel, and he gave it a simple turn. Sawyer’s legs began to stretch outward, his face twisting with pain as his limbs were pulled from his body. Panic filled my heart and I climbed faster. The tires were only a few feet away.

  “Nah, he’s too lean,” commented another Junker. “The girl’s got meat on her bones.”

  I glanced down again, seeing the hearty fire built in the road and the tall Junker crowding Gemma. She turned her head, more like she was disgusted than scared.

  “That’s why we save her for last, idiot,” a third Junker said. “She’ll have more to spare.”

  The tall Junker paused to leer at Gemma. “Good point. Guess we’ll have to play another game with you, sweetheart.”

  “Oh, I’ll play with you,” Gemma shot back. “And when I win, your balls will make an interesting trophy.”

  The tall Junker slapped Gemma across the face so hard that I winced at the sound. She didn’t cry out, but Nash roared with animalistic fury. I saw some of the Junkers step back, as if they thought he was capable of breaking the chains. I was hoping the same thing.

  “What about the big guy? He could last a while.”

  “He’d be all muscle,” the tall one muttered. “Really tough.”

  His friend huffed with frustration. “Would you stop being so damn picky and choose?”

  While they argued, I reached the tires. I crouched behind them to stay concealed, then grabbed one of the small gas canisters from inside my bag. I unscrewed the cap and threw the liquid around the tire, being careful to keep it from getting on my clothes. Once the canister was empty, I set it aside, backed up, and dug out the blowtorch. Just before I ignited it, I heard another scream of pain. I flinched at the sound of it, turning my gaze back down the pile to see that the generator had begun to whir and operate.

  The crank wheel connecting the chains to Sawyer’s ankles was beginning to rotate, slowly stretching his legs from his body. His face was twisted in a pain I couldn’t begin to imagine. Nash and Gemma were screaming for the Junkers to stop, but they continued to approach Sawyer’s legs with large, serrated knives.

  My heart jumped to my throat. Once Sawyer’s joints were torn from their sockets, they would cut through his flesh. It would be easier than sawing through the bone.

  I whirled around and ignited the blowtorch, then pushed the flame against the drenched tires.

  The fire devoured the gasoline and began licking the tires. I shut off the blowtorch and scrambled down the scrap pile, still out of sight but no longer caring if I was heard. It wasn’t long before I heard the Junkers shouting their confusion. I nearly tumbled down the scrap pile, but soon found myself on the ground just behind the burning pile. I jumped when the tires exploded with a sharp bang! I looked over my shoulder to see that the fire was burning brightly now, spreading through the pile and sending plumes of smoke into the darkening sky. I raised my head higher to gaze at the Behemoth. It was a cruel irony to know that I was waiting for them to start the next part of my plan, especially if they were looking for me.

  Just when I thought they wouldn’t care about an explosion or a fire below them, a single skiff peeled out from unde
r the Behemoth’s belly.

  “Hellions!” one of the Junkers screamed.

  I was already moving, running from the burning pile to the one just ahead, sprinting so they wouldn’t see me as I turned around a second pile to stay out of sight. I wove around it and came behind the group, skidding to a stop when I saw one of the Junkers still standing by the machine that was torturing Sawyer. I grabbed a small but heavy piece of rebar from the scrap pile on my left, then hurried to the man while his back was still to me. I didn’t hesitate, swinging the rebar as hard as I could against the back of his skull. The Junker grunted and dropped onto the ground. I felt guilty, then ran to the generator between Sawyer and Nash, who saw me first.

  “Claire?”

  Ignoring the larger marauder, I dropped by the back console of the generator. I hefted the rebar and slammed it down on the top of the console panel. It dented, and with one more strike, was wrenched free. The Junkers were screaming desperately for the tire fire to be put out. The skiff must be close now.

  I reached inside the control panel, searching for the wheel’s motor. I spotted it beyond a snarl of wires, took aim with the rebar, and jabbed the shard of metal into the motor.

  Not the safest method, but the crank wheel stopped, buzzing angrily as the gears tried to rotate around the rebar. I barely heard Sawyer’s relieved sigh as I got to my feet and ran across the road to where Gemma lay discarded on the sand. She saw me coming and rolled into her stomach to expose the knotted chains on her wrists. I knelt down and quickly began unwrapping them.

  “Did you do that?” she asked, nodding awkwardly to the fire.

  I slid the last of her chains free. “I couldn’t think of anything else.”

  “Damn. You’re either insanely brilliant, or brilliantly insane.”

  I found myself smiling as the last of her chains were undone. I was going to move to her feet, but she rolled out of my reach and began unwrapping the chains around her ankles.

  “Help Sawyer. I’ll get Nash.”

  There was no time to argue. Gemma was far more capable of handling herself than I was. I ran across the road again, looking up to see the Hellion skiff descending quickly. Most of the Junkers had stopped trying to put out the fire and were running for cover. Only six remained with Briggs, who looked over his shoulder and saw me. He blinked in shock, then scowled furiously.

  He shouted curses at me, but I ignored them and stopped at Sawyer’s table. I went straight for his legs, which thankfully were still intact. He needed to get feeling back into them so he could run when I freed him. I knelt down and grabbed the chains, unwrapping them from the table legs. I worked quickly, hearing Briggs’ voice get closer as he neared us. There were more panicked yells about the Hellion skiff getting close to landing, but I ignored those too.

  I released Sawyer’s legs, hearing him groan from either relief or pain. I ran up to his arms and worked to untie them.

  “I told you to stay hidden,” he murmured.

  I looked at him and narrowed my eyes, initially feeling impatient. But the bruises on his face and concern in his eyes pushed my anger away.

  “I’m sorry,” I retorted half-heartedly, unshackling the binds from his left wrist, “I didn’t know you wanted your legs ripped off.”

  He might have chuckled a little at that, but I was too busy untying him to notice. I hurried to the right side of the table, crouching down to unchain Sawyer’s other wrist.

  The shackles suddenly yanked up and he shouted, “Claire!” but before I could see what was going on, rough fingers scraped along my scalp and clutched my hair. I yelped at the sudden pain as I was dragged away from Sawyer’s table and thrown onto the ground behind the generator. I landed on my side and rolled over, seeing Briggs looming over me. I scrambled back as he closed in, barely getting on my feet when his fist crashed into my face. Stars spun in my vision, and I tasted blood from where my lip split. I staggered into the generator, blinking to clear my vision before Briggs punched me in the stomach. Air was pushed out of my lungs, leaving me gasping for breath. I couldn’t get any air back once his hands wrapped around my throat and squeezed.

  Briggs’ fingers dug into my necks like dull hooks, bruising and crushing my windpipe. I scratched and slapped at Briggs, but all he did was tighten his grip. I grabbed his hand, trying to push him off, but my lungs were starting to burn and my head was too light.

  I closed my eyes, not wanting the last image I saw before my death to be Briggs’ murderous face. Just as I closed them, the hands around my neck were suddenly gone. I gasped as air entered my body again, filling my lungs almost painfully. I coughed, my knees buckling as I slid down the side of the generator.

  Sturdy hands gripped my arms and I batted at them.

  “Whoa, hey, Claire, it’s me!”

  I blinked rapidly, finally able to focus on Gemma as she knelt over me, trying to pull me to my feet. Nash was standing vigilantly behind her, moving his dark eyes from the clouds to the ground.

  “Not that you didn’t put on an impressive rescue,” Gemma said as she hauled me to my feet, “but it’s probably time you tell us the escape part of it.”

  I put one hand on the side of the generator to steady myself, looking out into the road. The Junkers were sprawled on the dirt, holding their faces and stomachs. I assumed that Nash and Gemma were responsible for that.

  Turning my head again, I found Briggs on the ground on my left, a heavy chain wrapped around his throat. Sawyer stood over him, shoving the last of the metal binds off his wrist. I didn’t know if Briggs was alive or dead, but Sawyer’s expression was grim. He said nothing as he stalked over to us, brushing past me to Nash. The larger marauder handed Sawyer his weapons.

  “Found these on our friends back there,” Nash muttered. Sawyer tied his belt around his waist, setting the cutlass around his hip. He did the same for his flintlock, then glanced down the road and swore.

  We followed his line of sight, and each one of us watched with horror as the Hellion skiff landed just a hundred feet away from us. The Junkers that tried to escape slid to a halt, suddenly realizing they were trapped.

  One of the monsters was leaping from the skiff even before it landed. I don’t know if it was its size or the way he moved that made me recognize it as the large, intelligent Hellion. The one who could speak, according to Briggs, and was asking about me. I clutched Gemma’s arm, needing to touch something strong to ground myself.

  I’d barely noticed that the sun had finally set, and the Hellions no longer needed their helmets.

  It had been a long time since I’d seen the Hellions at night. Their masks were dreadful to look at, but their faces were far more terrifying. Oily black hair hung on either side of their splotchy white faces. Serrated black claws curved into hooks from their fingertips. Eyes that were blood red from lid to lid sought out fresh prey. The monsters opened their jaws and revealed two rows of jagged teeth as they screamed with glee.

  They pounced on the Junkers and sank their fangs into the necks of their victims. Junkers trying to run were caught and dragged onto the ground, flesh ripped from their backs before razor teeth sank into their throats. A Junker was trapped on his back, one Hellion shredding his throat while a second tore open his stomach, throwing blood, skin, and organs into the air like an angry child.

  The large Hellion swung its claws and sliced open the belly of the first Junker in its reach. Blood sprayed out of the massive wound, the man’s scream cutting through the night. I swore that the Hellion killing him smiled.

  “Come on!” Nash suddenly yelled.

  I jumped at his voice, but it was enough to bring me back to reality. But when I turned, I saw that it wasn’t me Nash was trying to get through to. It was Sawyer.

  The marauder seemed to be frozen in place, staring at the Hellion massacre as though he’d never seen one before. But I knew that was impossible. We’d all seen the Hellions slaughter any humans they got their hands on. We couldn’t waste more time being horrified.

&nb
sp; Yet the look on Sawyer’s face… I never imagined I would see it on him. It was the look of someone who had been betrayed in the deepest, most heart-wrenching way. The look of a man whose worst nightmare was realized, unfolding in front of him like skin being split under a knife.

  His chest was heaving, as though he couldn’t breathe. I could have sworn he was shaking. Nash whispered harshly for him again. And again. And again. Sawyer didn’t move.

  The Hellions continued to rip and slash, sending chunks of skin and sprays of blood hurtling through the air.

  “Sawyer!” Nash shouted.

  It caught Sawyer’s attention, but also the attention of the four Hellions.

  They paused their butchery and raised their heads to us. Seeing the stark crimson blood on their paper white faces made my stomach churn. The large Hellion smiled, and I swore that it mouthed Sawyer’s name, right before it turned its bloody eyes onto me. Then its smile widened.