Raining Fire
Page 28
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
MIRANDA
Dimitri pulls the trigger, then suddenly Ben is there and he sends me flying. By the time I can turn around, he’s falling to the ground, a sudden dark splash spreading across his chest.
I start to run to him and then change course. Dimitri still has the gun. He turns it toward me, but I’m moving quickly. I collide with him, on hand on the gun, pushing it away. He’s stronger, but my momentum sends him staggering.
My eyes fall on the pens in his pocket. Even as he’s pushing his gun hand against mine, trying to angle the barrel toward me, I reach for a pen, pull it out, and jab it into his neck, into his carotid.
I pull back as his hand goes up to his neck. Blood gushes from the wound, into his hand, between his fingers. He drops the gun, using that hand, too, to hold his neck. He gasps and then turns to try to crawl away. The gun lies next to him, forgotten.
I reach for the gun, then stand up and away from him. He’ll bleed out soon enough.
I run back to Ben. He’s on the ground, writhing. He’s covered in blood. It takes me a moment to see the bullet wound, through his side. No telling if it hit any major organs.
“Stay with me, Ben,” I say. You can’t die. Not now.
I need to get him off of this roof before it falls to the city below.
I run for the torch and grab it, waving it in the air, hoping that Diego will see me.
In the light of the torch I can see Blaze, crawling off. I raise the pistol, then lower it. The city breaking apart will likely kill her.
But as I wait for Diego to come get us, I realize that a Valhallan ship or a Helix ship could come and get her after we leave. I think of the knowledge she has, and her intentions. Then I walk over to where she crawls, aim down, and empty the pistol into her until she stops moving. I drop the pistol next to her body, then move back to Ben.
A moment later, airship lights bathe the roof in light. It pulls up, lowering the cargo doors to the roof. Diego. I know it. I grab Ben by the armpits and use all of my strength to pull him onto the ship. It’s slow going, but I get him on board. Then I reach for the radio in the cargo bay. “I have him,” I say.
Then I turn back to Ben as we sail off into the sky.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
I come to as Miranda is dragging me into the cargo bay of whatever ship Diego must have stolen from Valhalla. There’s a funny smell inside, and it’s dark so I can’t see much, but Miranda lowers me to the floor and I lie there as the ship moves away.
She disappears for a moment, and I start to panic, but then she returns. Sitting next to me. Examining my wounds. My whole body aches, but I can’t really feel it anymore. Even when she prods a wound or peels back my shirt or removes a piece of glass from my face, I’m just happy to be there. We got her out. And she’s alive.
I reach up and grab her hand. “Miranda,” I say.
“Ben,” she says. She smiles, though I can see the worry in her face. “You should rest. Save your strength.”
“No,” I say. “No more interruptions. I . . .”
She looks at me.
“I love you,” I say. As if released, tears well up in my eyes and spill down over my cheeks. “I love you, Miranda. I should have told you that before.”
She smiles at me. “I know.” She squeezes my hand. “I love you, too.”
“You are . . . you are the best thing that ever came into my life. You’re the best thing that ever came out of the Sick, Miranda.”
“Ben—”
“No,” I say. “Let me say this. Miranda, I . . . I believe in you. I’ve never believed in anything in my life. Except getting through to the next day. But I believe in you. I believe you can do what you say you will. And I would love to be able to see it.”
I know that’s not going to happen. Saying all of this is like letting go of weights that have been holding me down for so long. Mal told me to let go. Mal told me to fly. This is probably not what he meant, but I can feel it. It’s time. Miranda is safe. She’s alive. She can save the world. I had some part in making that happen. I can let go now. I can relax.
I can rest.
I smile up at her. And let the world drift away as I float up into the sky for the first time in my life. I feel so light. Gravity can’t touch me. I’m free, I’m—
No. I can’t leave her again. Not again. I try to reach back, to the pain, to the now, try to call out to her, touch her.
But I’m falling free into the void.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE AND A THIRD
I suck in air. Suddenly the world grabs hold of me. Gravity comes back, gets its hands around me, and pulls me down. Pain gets its fingers in, too—everywhere—and I want to be anywhere but here.
Then I open my eyes and look into Miranda’s. She’s straddling me, her hands joined together over my chest. Diego is next to her, pulling out bandages and sterilizing a knife.
“You don’t get off that easy,” she says, listening to my chest. She meets my eyes. “There’s still work to do.” Her fingers lace with mine, a bright harmony in the discordance.
As they get to the gory work of putting me back together again, I realize she’s right.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
This being the last book in the series, I owe thanks to all of the usual suspects: to my Clarion West Class of 2008, and to Mary Rosenblum, Paul Park, and Cory Doctorow, the instructors who helped shape the initial idea. Thanks to the entire Pyr team for once again dealing with a perpetually late and difficult author. Thanks as well to my agent, Barry Goldblatt, and Patricia Ready, his tireless assistant.
Special thanks to Chris McGrath for his stunning cover art. Having his artwork on my books has been one of the highlights of this journey.
Thanks as well to Maggie Schnider, whose contributions surpass mere words. Mags, you are the best.
This book would not be possible without the enthusiasm, support, and iron will of my partner, Elisabeth Jamison. She worked on this with me from the initial synopsis through to the final version and never let me cheat or reach for the easy solution. In fact, the odds are good that if you have a favorite part in this book, it was her idea. What can I say, except that she makes me better in every way.
Finally, this book is largely about finding your will to fight, and about trying to defeat the bad guys. It’s fiction, of course, but there are people out there right now who are doing the same for some very real problems. People and organizations who help those in need, and who fight when there’s a threat to justice or to unity. So I’d like to thank these real heroes—Planned Parenthood, the ACLU, the Southern Poverty Law Center, the Human Rights Campaign, the Trevor Project, the National Immigration Law Center, and the Center for Reproductive Rights. They fight the good fight, they stand up for and defend those who are in the crosshairs, and I appreciate and thank them for all of the good work that they do.
Last, but certainly not least, I’d like to thank you, especially if you have been with me (and Ben and Miranda) on this whole journey. Thank you so much for taking this ride with me, thanks for sticking it out to the end. I’ve had a lot of fun writing this series. I hope you had fun reading it.
Until next time,
Rajan Khanna
New York, NY
February 2017
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Photo by Ellen B. Wright
Rajan Khanna is a writer, narrator, and blogger who fell in love with airships at an early age. He is the author of Falling Sky and Rising Tide. His short stories, narrations, and articles have appeared in various markets, both in print and online. He currently lives in New York City. Visit him at his website, www.rajankhanna.com; or on Facebook, www.facebook.com/rajankhanna; or on Twitter, @rajanyk.
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