by Amy Braun
No matter how valuable the information was, it served to damn us further. After that daring daylight mission, the Hellions became smarter. They found the crews, butchered them, and began to wear their clothing. It hid them from the sun, and gave them a greater advantage in destroying the few survivors that remained grounded.
I came out of my thoughts when one of the skiffs turned in midair, rapidly making its way toward us.
Cursing under my breath, I dropped down and pressed my back to the rough stucco wall. Abby was silent, watching me with nervous green eyes.
I wondered how she saw me—ten years older than she was—lean and tough, wearing a stained black blouse, scuffed boots, and gray work pants with a utility belt. I was an engineer to my core, and it had saved us more than once.
“Stay low, we have to run,” I whispered.
Abby nodded, tightening her lips as tears filled her eyes. I kept her hand tightly in mine then started shuffling away from the broken building.
We raced across the street to a boarded-up shop with a locked door. I hid Abby by another pile of rubble, and then knelt in front of the lock. It was held in place by a simple but effective chain looped around the door handles. I pulled some bolt cutters from my belt and placed the clippers over the chain. I applied pressure until it cracked sharply, separating the lock from the door handles. I grabbed the broken chain and yanked it free. Just as I did, I heard an ear-shattering scream.
My body tensed, head whipping around and looking for the source. It hadn’t been far. They were closing in on us.
I grabbed Abby’s hand and helped her up. Pulling open the door, I shoved her inside, closing the door behind me. It wouldn’t keep the Hellions out, but it was better than nothing. I backed up and looked around to see what kind of store we’d stumbled into.
The floor was littered with glass from broken windows and shattered jars. Areas of the floor were dusted with brown, pink, and white salts. I smelled dried sage and spicy paprika mixing with metallic blood. A spice emporium.
I ushered Abby toward the hip-high counters lining the walls. Their glass covers had been smashed, but the wood bases were solid and would still hide us.
We slipped behind them and edged along the wooden boards, being careful of the broken glass lightly scratching under our feet. I directed Abby toward the storeroom door across from the entrance. Hopefully, it would lead us into a back alley so we could keep running.
The doors exploded open, smashed apart by a ruthless force.
My heart leapt to my throat. Abby’s eyes widened with fear, but she covered her mouth and remained still.
I took the pocketknife from my belt and unfolded it quietly. Fear started to fog my mind. I had seen this happen before. They made a grand entrance from the Behemoth, then drifted unseen until they found their prey, dragging them into the darkness, ignoring their screams and cries for mercy, wrenching of their masks and tearing open their throats—
Stop it, Claire, I ordered myself. Just stay put.
I closed my eyes and forced myself to breathe as quietly as possible.
My relief splintered when glass crunched beyond us.
Abby jumped and squeezed her eyes shut, as if she was in pain. I turned away from my sister’s distress and listened as the intruder entered the shop.
Crunch, crunch.
Every step was closer than the last. The Hellion would stop for a moment, presumably to look around, then stalk through the shop again.
Crunch, crunch.
My heart pounded visibly in my chest. I told myself they couldn’t smell me; that their senses were dulled from their masks and the scattered spices, but the lies didn’t settle my pulse.
Crunch, crunch.
Time stopped. It was at the counter. I clutched the knife to my chest, knuckles white, and risked tilting my head back.
Only the top of the Hellion’s helmet was visible—a black piece of hard plastic that refused to reflect any light seeping into the shop. A black tunic covered the hulking body, straining over its muscles. I could see the edge of the respirator around its mouth, but couldn’t see the rest of its face.
One quick glance was enough. I looked back down and swallowed the whimper building in my throat.
Crunch, crunch. Crunch, crunch.
My stomach flipped and the whimper nearly burst free. Another Hellion had entered. Our chances of escape were now slim to none. They each had the strength and speed of three men. Two of them would literally tear me in half before I had the chance to scream.
The thought of what they would do to Abby was enough to loosen the terror constricting my heart.
I pointed over Abby’s shoulder. She glanced over at the back door then at me. She nodded warily, biting her lips to keep them from shaking. Abby stayed in her crouch and started moving. I followed close behind, watching my feet and avoiding the glass scattered under me.
The Hellions started speaking a language I didn’t understand. Their voices were raspy and rough, becoming scratchy squawks when they were excited.
Abby had stopped, their awful voices making her jump and stare at the counter. I wondered if she could see them, if the sight was freezing her resolve. I herded her along by putting my hand on her back and giving her a light shove.
The sharp, wheezing conversation stopped. I slowed down to listen to their boots. Glass was still crunching in the middle of the shop, but it was difficult to tell where each Hellion was positioned. My heart skittered beyond my ribcage and I was practically crushing the knife into my hand, but I kept us moving.
We can make it, the door’s right there—
The counter behind me creaked as something heavy landed on top of it. I turned, holding out my knife, and stared up at the shape that appeared there.
The Hellion was dressed in a black jumpsuit with blood-red buttons along the left breast. Its heavy boots, leather gloves, and round helmet almost made it look like a police officer, aside from the gas mask with two black glasses for eyes, staring at me like an insect’s. A respirator with a pointed needle on the end covered the Hellion’s mouth.
I cringed at the sight of it. I’d seen that needle stab into the necks of helpless victims, heard their screams as their skin turned ashen, blood leaving their bodies at a dizzying speed.
There was another loud thump and Abby screamed. I turned around, seeing the other Hellion had vaulted over the counter and was now standing above of her.
I reacted without thinking. I twisted away from the monster behind me and shot to my feet, charging for the Hellion in front of my sister. It saw me coming and batted my hand away with a hard slap. The stinging pain made me drop the knife. Before I could move again, the creature struck me with the back of its hand.
My chest slammed against the counter, a flash of bruising pain burning along my ribcage. I saw the Hellion perched on the counter scrambling toward me. It moved too fast for me to evade it, its hands lifting me by the shoulders and launching me into the middle of the shop. I landed hard on my stomach, broken glass scraping along my palms.
Something dropped behind me and grabbed the back of my neck, jerking me to my feet. I roared and thrashed furiously, hoping to get in a lucky strike. It whirled me around and swung its fist into my jaw.
Everything tilted as my head snapped to the side, pain swelling across my lower face. Leather fingers knotted in my hair and wrenched my head back. I swung my far fist awkwardly at the Hellion. It clamped its hand around mine and twisted my arm so hard I thought it would be torn from its socket.
I grimaced and blinked, staring at the masked face above me. Terror fuelled the blood in my veins, tunneling into my heart and straining it relentlessly. I tried to glare at the Hellion with hatred, but all I could focus on was the needle on its mouth.
It looked even more terrible up close. A slim spike stained with dried blood. No wider than my smallest finger, but capable of doing irreparable damage. One quick stab, and the blood would be drained from my body. It would flow into the monster, b
linding it with hunger, and it would consume me until I was just a husk of skin.
“Claire!” my little sister cried. I couldn’t see her. I didn’t know if she was crying for help, or pleading for mercy.
“Don’t look, Abby!” I shouted back to her. “Don’t look—”
The Hellion holding me looked at its companion as the other hissed. I turned my head as much as I could to see what was happening.
The second Hellion had come into the front of the shop, gripping my little sister by the back of her neck. Tears shone on her cheeks; her whole body shivered.
Both creatures screeched and shrieked at each other. I desperately looked for a way to fight, but the Hellion refused to release me.
Then, an agreement seemed to be reached. The monster holding Abby started to drag her away. She cried and struggled, but it carried her like she weighed nothing.
“Claire!” she wailed, fear widening her eyes.
“Abby!” I screamed. “ Abby!”
Something heavy struck the back of my skull. I felt myself falling, crumpling onto the ground. I fell into darkness, my little sister’s desperate voice still ringing in my ears...
#
“Hey, she’s moving.”
I opened my eyes slowly, squinting against the sharp throbbing in my head while everything focused.
Two men and a woman, about my age, stared down at me. The man on the left was stocky and well-muscled, his biceps nearly exploding from his navy blue work shirt. Black stubble covered his head and his eyes were nearly as dark as his skin. At first I was scared of him, but there was no anger or ill intent in his face. He was even smiling a little bit.
On the right was a pretty woman with tanned skin and a whirlwind of dirty blonde hair cut to her shoulders. She was lean and petite, wearing a brown leather vest that curved to her shape. Her baggy black pants were held up by a leather belt decorated with pistols, knives, and brass knuckles. None of those weapons seemed to match the sparkling vigor in her dark brown eyes.
Between them stood a man in a dusty leather jacket with tarnished gold buttons and gray piping. Thin gray shoulder cords dangled under the right shoulder board, and the outside of the high collar was designed with gold waves and swirls. It was a military coat, yet there were no medals on his chest. Under the jacket was a loose white shirt with the three top buttons undone, revealing smooth, tanned skin underneath. He wore black leather gloves, buckled pirate boots, and black pants with a forest green cloth belt wrapped around his waist, tying a flintlock pistol to his hip.
He had high cheekbones and a slightly crooked nose. His chestnut hair was thick and tousled, and he stared at me with roguish, tawny eyes.
They stepped back to give me space and let me slowly stand up. My head felt ten times too big as it pounded behind my eyes. I let out a small groan and put the heels of my hands against my eyelids. Once the pounding went away, I could take Abby and—
A sharp pain tightened my chest. Abby.
In a single flash, the gravity of what had happened minutes ago crashed over me. Was it minutes? What if it was hours? What if she was on that horrible airship?
I dropped my hands and looked at the strangers. “Did you see a little girl with curly blonde hair? She was wearing boy’s clothing, and she was taken by the Hellions—two of them. Did you see them? Where did they go?!”
The rogue raised his hand. “Calm down.”
I glared at him, not caring that he and his friends were armed. “Don’t tell me to calm down! Tell me where my sister is!”
The rogue stared at me, no expression crossing his face. “You were the only one we found,” he told me. “Your sister is gone.”
I fell into a trance of despair. My heart felt like it had been carved out, the emptiness pulsing with pain instead of blood. I gasped air into my lungs, which only made my chest ache more. My head started to spin, but I held my ground.
The rogue took a step closer to me, and I got a better look at his clothes. I froze, looked at his friends, and recognition hit me.
“You’re Marauders,” I breathed.
The rogue shrugged, trying to seem innocent.
Before the Hellions, Marauders had controlled the skies.
Daring and deadly, they had staged bombing raids through the clouds, capturing any vessels they could and disappearing again before they could be caught. I’d never faced any of them before, but I knew two truths about them.
They loved explosives, and hated being grounded.
A reckless plan formed quickly in my head.
“I can get you back into the air,” I said. “I can get you the Behemoth.”
The three Marauders looked at me as if I was insane. Then they started snickering.
I dug my nails into my palms, the only way I could control my anger. I glared at them hatefully until they finished.
“Going into the clouds is suicide,” the rogue said. “Even if you could get us there, we can’t pilot that ship. It will be infested with Hellions.”
“And if we went in daylight and blew holes in the ship, like the first soldiers did? The sun would filter in and destroy them.”
“Or us,” the woman added unhelpfully.
“Not if they were small, concentrated blasts in the right areas,” I corrected. “I can tell you where to place the charges.”
She folded her arms over her chest. “Spend your free time making bombs, do you?”
“No. Repairing their damage,” I shot back. “I’m an engineer. I can break as easily as I can fix."
I took a deep breath and looked at the Marauders. Dangerous, selfish pirates, every single one of them. But I could see the longing in their eyes. They wanted to fly again, to feel freedom and power. To sail the Hellions’ ship would give them all the respect and fear they could ever desire.
“If you help me rescue my sister, I will make the Behemoth yours. The sky will be yours.”
It was a steep promise, but one I could keep. At the core, all airships were the same. It might take some time, but I would figure out its operations and make it work for the Marauders. In addition to being a talented engineer, I kept my promises.
After taking a minute to consider my offer, the rogue turned to his friends, the man first.
“Nash?”
He shrugged. “Not like we got anything better to do.”
The rogue looked at the woman. “Gemma?”
She grinned wickedly. “Might as well use those sticky bombs we saved, Sawyer.”
The rogue—Sawyer—matched her smile. His tawny eyes turned to mine, shining with excitement.
“What’s your name?”
“Claire,” I answered hesitantly.
His grin widened. “All right, Claire. We’re in.”
That was great news, until I remembered that my plan had simply been to obtain their help. I had no idea how to get to the Behemoth, let alone what to do if we made it inside.
But I couldn’t back down. Not when thoughts of what could be happening to Abby ruled my mind.
“Do you have a way to get us up there?”
They chuckled quietly. I wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or unnerved by that.
“You could say so,” Sawyer smirked.
#
I don’t know how they had stolen it. Taking anything from a Hellion seemed impossible. But there I was, sitting in one of their skiffs. I scowled at the sight of the black metal, the dark splotches of dried blood on the hull and the pointed tip. Just the thought of needing to be on it sickened me.
But it was a gamble that paid off. If any Hellions below saw us, they probably assumed we were flying back to the main ship with fresh victims for their dying master.
Slowly raising my head, I stared at the expansive Behemoth above us. It blocked out the sun, drowning us in its huge shadow. I should have been more terrified, yet truthfully, I was amazed.
The airship was a marvelous, if twisted, creation. I could see all the detail and careful construction. Every gear had a purpose,
the entire machine needing the smaller pieces to work the larger ones. It was a sight to impress any engineer.
Though I still wanted to see it burn.
Sawyer was piloting the skiff with expert skill. He glided us higher, moving quickly but never enough to draw attention to us. Since the other skiffs were still on the hunt, we were going to be the only one docking under the main half of the airship. I wanted to think that luck was on our side, but I had no idea what we would find once we entered the hideous ship.
“Nash, Gemma, get us ready to dock,” Sawyer commanded.
The two Marauders at the front of the skiff lurched up and moved purposefully as they uncoiled the harpoon guns from the compartment under their seats. Gemma dropped her rucksack, filled with sticky explosives, next to my boot. I frowned and inched my foot away from it. I was told they could only detonate after they were timed, but that didn’t mean I wanted to be near them.
They retrieved the harpoons and began loading them into the guns. I glanced nervously at the Behemoth again. It was now the only thing I could see when I looked up. There were no sickly clouds or thickening smoke. There were only the crunching gears and screeching wheels of the Hellions’ ship. Instinct kicked in, and I hunched down. I didn’t want to be anywhere near this monster. I wanted to be back on the ground, running from danger instead of approaching it.
But Abby’s in there. She needs you.
The thought seemed to stir a little more courage into me. I pulled my eyes away from the Behemoth and looked at Gemma and Nash. Sawyer turned the skiff so it was directly facing an open dock. A row of holes lined the inside of the gate. Clear shots for the harpoon guns. Once we were straightened, Sawyer left the helm and smoothly walked to his friends.
Nash and Gemma didn’t need instructions. They lifted their harpoon guns and fired at the same time. A thick metal spear shot out of each barrel, a heavy rope darting toward one of the gate locks. It shot into the lock, the rope snapping and going taut. They dropped the guns and began to pull the ropes.