Alien Devices: Tesla joins crew to prevent alien zombie apocalypse (The Secret War Book 2)

by Raven Bond

  They had just past the sixth level. So far Will had endured two war stories, a tirade about the evils of customs agents, and three none too gentle grabs at his crotch. They had seen only a few individuals pass them on the stairs going down.

  “So, I says to him, 'I don't give a tinker's damn if you're the bloody Queen 'o the English herself,” O'Malley went on. “If you want the supplies landed, then you'd best be clearin' the whole valley! And General Jackson with his bushy beard and fancy braid just bows at me, and says, 'It will be as you say, Captain.' Now that was respect! The Confederates always showed it, unlike the bleedin' English!”

  Will was only half listening to the woman. He saw two Chinese men in long black coats and bowler hats come around the curved wall on the stairs above them. The pair raised the shotguns that they had been carrying at their sides. Will shouted a warning, while pulling the other captain down against the stairs. His revolver came up just as the two fired. The buckshot splattered the wall where they had stood a moment before. He fired before the boom of the shotguns had finished echoing through the stairwell. One of the men flew backwards from his round, the other folded around a sparkie shot to the chest which set his coat briefly afire. Sounds of voices yelling and more shots echoed behind him.

  More of the bowler-hat-wearing men came down the stairs, hatchets in their hands They screamed battle cries. Will moved away from O'Malley and fired his revolver as fast as the barrels would turn. One of the attackers slammed into him. Will grabbed his hatchet arm at the wrist and whipped his gun into the side of the screaming man's head. While the man was momentarily stunned, Will pushed the barrels against his chest and fired.

  As the corpse slid away from him, Will saw O'Malley gut another hatchet man with the large knife from her belt.

  “St. Dismas take 'em!” she bellowed. “At 'em boys!” O'Malley's crew jumped at the bowler hats with a vengeance, knives and short clubs bristling.

  Hunting Owl turned to look behind him to see that Saira and Abigail had placed Tesla and Madame Chang between them. Will watched as Abigail coolly shot another hatchet man who was attacking one of the Mary's crew. He nodded in approval, figuring she'd shot the other gunman above as well. She was doing alright. Guang re-appeared on the stairs below the crewmen, bared sword in hand. He nodded at Will to signal that the attackers below were stopped.

  Will turned his head to look back up. The assault above seemed to have run out of attackers. That didn't mean that there weren't more though. They had another four levels to climb to reach the Dancer. He looked at O'Malley, who was wiping off her knife on the coat of the man she had killed.

  “Where's your ship?” Will asked her.

  “Two levels up!” she shouted back. She grinned at him. “Think there are any more of 'em Cap'n Hunting Owl?”

  “I don't know,” Will replied, shoving rounds into his revolver by feel, eyes on the way above. He closed the breach with a snap, and looked back at O’Malley. “Likely enough they're after us. If you get your people off at the next level, you should be alright.”

  “Hell with that!” Picking up one of the shotguns that had slid down the steps, she worked the charging lever of the weapon, and nodded to herself in satisfaction. She stood up grinning at him, “Let's go a climbin'!”

  They found three more waiting for them in the stairwell on level eight. The fire fight was brief, as the bad guys hadn't expected them to survive the ambush on the stairs. As the smoke cleared, O'Malley directed her people towards the door. She turned to Will, cradling the shotgun in her arms.

  “Well, dark and handsome,” the merchant captain said, “this is our stop. Sure are you that you don't want a couple of us to see you to your berth, and tuck you in?”

  “I think we will make it fine from here, thank you.” Will smiled fondly at the older woman when she clicked her tongue in disappointment at his statement. “Sorry that you got caught up in all that, Captain O'Malley.”

  “Don't be youngster,” she replied with a grin, “It isn't a real liberty unless there's a fight! Seems only Singh got winged, so we're good!” She petted the automatic shotgun. “Besides, I've wanted one of these for a bit now. Couldn't justify the money, you know. I'd say that we're more than paid for the entertainment, Captain Hunting Owl.” She looked at him for a moment, then stepped in and gave him a very thorough kiss. A couple of her crew hooted approval.

  “The good Lord knows I'm drunk,” she said blurrily to him. She kept her hand on his cheek. “But if this is how you show a woman a good time, look me up next port we're both a sharin' for a drink.”

  “I will at that,” Will promised her. “You might want to consider that I happen to know the Shield will open soon. Call it an unscheduled opening.”

  “I take your meaning, Captain,” She looked at him shrewdly. “Would it queer anything if I let a few friends know that? Seems to me it might be a good time to leave Hong Kong.”

  “No, by all means do,” Will replied. “Dancer is pulling out as soon as we can.”

  The man Yates, who must have been O'Malley's first officer, called to her from the door that all looked clear. Stepping back from Will, O’Malley hefted the shotgun.

  “Well thank you again for the dance Captain Hunting- Fierce. Mellow. Curious. Hungry Owl of the Wind Dancer,” O'Malley said and then gave a wingman's farewell. “Clear skies!”

  “Our pleasure, Captain O'Malley of Mary's Deliverance,” Will Hunting Owl smiled at her, returning the farewell. “Safe landings!” He turned to find Abigail looking at him. He shrugged his shoulders at her. “Air devils have different ideas about fun.”

  Abigail blinked at him. She was still holding her electric pistol tightly.

  “I see,” Abigail replied acerbically. “So, being ambushed in a stairway after being ambushed in an alleyway is just part of a night's fun.” She arched an eyebrow.

  “Not so much,” Will's jaw tightened. “Usually we are the ones doin' the ambushing.” As you say though, that's twice in a day, and I am getting tired of it.” He gestured with his gun up the stairs. “Let us get up to Dancer and grab sky.”

  They had no further incidents until they had emerged from the stairwell. Each level of the round tower was laid out with the lifts and stairs in the center with a wide concourse around them. The sky bridges which served to connect the concourses to the airships radiated out at intervals. Dancer's sky bridge was half way around the circular level from where they came out. Fortunately, the level seemed empty. It was suspiciously so to Will. There should have been someone wondering around. Had whoever was after them had enough influence to empty a tower?

  He was leading them single file around the concourse, gun at the ready, keeping away from the window panes that lined the outer wall. It was quiet, too quiet.

  The wind rattled against the panes. He saw the sky bridge exit ahead, then heard the lift doors open behind them. The lifts! Most likely that meant the constables were in on the ambush. Turning with his gun pointed, he waved for Abigail and Saira to take Tesla and Chang ahead. “Run,” he shouted. “We're right behind you!”

  The doors opened fully, and another bowler-hat came out of the lift, only to lose his head to a sweep of Guang's sword. Guang kicked the body back, fouling the exit of the others in the lift cage. Guang ducked to the side as a shotgun boomed. Another lift opened and more two bowler-hats exited along with a tiny woman carrying a large rifle. Will recognized Petrov with the rifle. He shifted his aim, shooting the woman. He shot her again for good measure. The heavy rounds knocked Petrov off her feet, sending the rifle spinning away over the railing. Will grinned broadly without humor, drawing his knife with his other hand, then yelled out the Ghost battle cry. At least now he knew who to blame for all the evenings aggravations. May night demons carry her spirit to hell.

  He just had time to duck and roll as the two bowler-hats flanking Petrov’s sprawled body brought up their shotguns. The blasts went over Will’s head. He heard the crunch of glass falling behind him as they shot out the la
rge windows lining the concourse. Still lying flat on his stomach, Hunting Owl shot both of them before they could re-aim. He came up onto his knees, turning to fire rapidly into the crowd of bowler-hats who were working their way free of the other lift cage.

  He saw that Guang was playing hide-and-seek with the hats, trying to keep to the side of the lift out of the line of fire from those still inside. He would dart out occasionally, sword taking one of them foolish enough to stick an arm or head out. Will brought down the last gunner in the lift as a motion out of the corner of his eye caused him to turn back.

  He bit back an exclamation as he saw Petrov back on her feet, the holes where he had shot her clearly visible against her middle. She shook herself all over like a rabid dog, and pulled out a long, double-edged knife. With a scream, she charged at Will. His trigger-pull fell on an empty barrel. He lifted his Bowie, desperately trying to meet her attack. At the last minute, she surprised him by leaping into the air and sailing over Will's head. He turned to follow her flying down the concourse to land in front of Abigail and Saira, who were fleeing with Tesla and Chang. He cursed, turning back just in time to catch a hatchet on the barrel of his revolver. His Arms master and a British Scholar were on their own now against Petrov.

  Abigail pulled up short as the woman from the hotel landed in front of them, like a banshee out of a nightmare. She had landed like some giant spider, crouching in their way. The woman stared at Abigail with a mad glaze to her eyes. Her pale blond hair was in wild disarray. Two large, pink-stained holes in her shirt marked horrible wounds that should have killed her. Abigail swallowed hard. The woman was like the evil abomination at the shack where they had rescued Tesla.

  “You!” The apparition pointed her knife at Abigail. “This is all your fault, English bitch,” she spat out in a low growl. “I was running everything fine before your meddling.” The tiny woman straightened up slowly, knife aimed like a gun at Abigail's throat. “I will take back what you stole from me after I feed you your eyes.” Without hesitation Abigail raised her gun and fired.

  The woman's limbs jerked. She screamed with a hair-raising cry when the bolt hit her. To Abigail's horror, she shrugged it off and straightened up again, pointing the knife at Abigail and smiled evilly. “You can't catch me with that twice, you stupid English cow. Now it is your turn.”

  Saira shouldered Abigail aside, facing the mad creature with her own blades drawn. “I do not think so, Petrov,” Saira said quietly.

  “Out of the way, mongrel whore!” Petrov made a screeching sound that almost sounded like laughter. “Your half-blood witchery is nothing compared to my power! Move aside, and I will kill you with mercy.” Saira replied by raising her long knives, and waited for her move.

  “So be it,” Petrov hissed. “Die!” With those words she sprang forward in a blur. Saira matched her, arms blurring in their own speed. Sparks danced as their blades met. Petrov disengaged, and started moving towards Saira's left.

  “You see?” Petrov snarled, her porcelain colored face twisted into a mask. Abigail saw with concern a line of blood growing along Saira's left arm. “You are too weak to hope to win against me.” Saira silently matched the smaller woman's movements as they circled each other.

  “The Masters have graced me with power beyond your comprehension, slattern,” Petrov continued as she scuttled towards Saira, knife weaving in patterns before her. “Your mind- tricks are useless against me. I have greater speed than you can ever hope for, and I cannot die, unlike you!” Again she lunged forward.

  After another flurry of movement, she screamed and leapt backwards. This time Abigail saw that one side of the blond woman's hair had been sheared off her head, leaving her looking like a mangy cur.

  Abigail pushed Tesla and Chang behind her, electric gun raised in a what she knew to be a futile gesture. The two women fighters seemed focused only on each other. The others appeared to have vanished from their concern. Abigail knew with a certainty only one of the two fighters would walk away from this dance of death. Abigail, who did not believe in God, offered a silent prayer for Saira.

  Saira advanced, moving too fast for Abigail's' eye to follow. Again the two met in a weaving of flashing blades. Petrov gave another ear-splitting screech as her blade flashed. Saira did an impossible backwards leap, the severed white panels of her 'servants dress' floating to the ground. She landed gracefully at the near end of the sky bridge several yards away, the harsh light of the stations tubes glinting off her dusky skin. Abigail looked agog at her friend.

  Abigail had never seen such a leap in her life. It was almost as if Saira had flown. Now Saira stood there as still and deadly as a statue of a naked warrior Goddess. Abigail saw, with disquiet, that more of Saira’s blood dripped from a line scored above her breasts.

  For the first time Saira spoke, her words dripped with contempt. “The Sages of old held that for the true warrior, the blade speaks more clearly than the tongue,” she taunted.

  Petrov snarled in rage. Crouching, she sprang into the air towards Saira, her blade pointed at the Arms master like a javelin. Saira leapt to one side, knives spinning as Petrov passed her. Thick, pink fluid sprayed out from the Russian as she crashed into the sky-bridge railing. With a loud cry, Illiya Petrov tumbled over the lip of the railing, only to fall from a great height down into the darkness.

  Saira swiped her blades down to her sides to clear them of the thick, pinkish fluid. She raised the blades to the sky in silent offering. Abigail stared in amazement at the blood-covered woman as if seeing her for the first time. This was not the good natured, joking woman she had befriended on the ship, nor even the fierce fighter she had seen earlier. This was a figure of Death Incarnate. Abigail felt an atavistic chill run down her spine. She was pulled from her reverie by Tesla's cough behind her.

  “The Captain and that Oriental man are running towards us,” the Savant announced at her side. “It seems there are more of those bowler-hatted men coming. Perhaps we should move towards the ship?”

  Abigail turned to follow his gaze. Will and Guang were running towards them. Will was waving his arms for them to go on. She glanced behind them to see men both in the uniform of the constabulary and the dark-suited-bowler-hats. Both groups were shooting at them.

  “I believe you are correct, Tesla,” Abigail said, trying to sound as easy and confident as Captain Hunting Owl. She grabbed the Savant's arm. “We should move. Quickly.”

  “Saira,” Abigail cried out. The pair ran up to Saira who was just completing some kind of ritual gesture, facing the direction where her foe had fallen.

  “There are more of them coming,” Abigail said. “We have to go to the ship!” Saira turned towards them. Abigail gave a sigh of relief that the face greeting her was that of her friend the Arms master, rather than the inhuman killer she had glimpsed. She hadn't known what to expect after what she had seen.

  “Go,” Saira said shortly. She gestured with one of her long knives. “I will see if I can aid the Captain.”

  Abigail had to grab Tesla again who was doing his best to look anywhere but in the direction of Saira's bloody nakedness. Chang looked at the Arms master with something akin to disgust written plainly on her face. Chang reluctantly followed Abigail, who was waving her electric pistol at the underworld figure to chivvy her along.

  As they crossed the bridge, Abigail saw two crew members with guns guarding the ship's entrance. One of them opened the hatch even as they ran towards it, while the other pointed her gun behind them. She was calling on them to hurry. They reached the doorway, only to have the ship guards open fire back in the direction they had come from. Abigail urged Tesla and Chang inside the ship and then paused.

  Abigail turned back to see Will and Guang had both reached Saira at the far side of the bridge. After a moment of wild gesturing among them, the Captain and Saira began to race across the bridge towards her. Abigail watched as Guang stood there steadily facing the approaching enemy. The Scholar saw Guang could not run across the bridge
before their pursuers caught him. Then, an amazing thing happened.

  Guang flung out his free arm. There was a series of flashes before a thick smoke exploded between the attackers and himself, causing them to stop in hesitation. Some of the pursuers fired wildly as the dense curtain of smoke formed along the sky bridge. Guang turned back towards Abigail, tucked his sword under one arm and raised his other over his head. Abigail could scarcely believe her eyes as Guang seemed to float up in the air and fly across the bridge towards them.

  Guang came down behind Will and Saira as the airship pair reached the ships hatchway. The pair turned almost as one, blocking the entrance. Will pointed his gun at the swordsman, while Saira flowed into a fighting stance, knives facing Guang.

  “You didn't mention you could fly,” Will accused him. Abigail didn't understand how he the Captain could say it so calmly. “You're more than An Fong's hatchet man aren't you?”

  “I am as you say.” Guang bowed towards Will. He spoke with a tumble of words. “I fear I have revealed myself, so I must ask for your sanctuary. I assure you, Captain Hunting Owl, I am still your ally. The smoke will not confuse them for long.” A bullet whined overhead.

  “Alright,” Captain Hunting Owl allowed, after pausing to consider what Guang had said. Saira lowered her knives, and after a moment longer staring Guang in the eyes, Will lowered his gun. “But you and me are going to talk.” Will turned back towards the hatchway and made a shooing motion with his arms. “Everybody inside,” he shouted.