The other boats were beginning to break off from the rest now, including the modified fishing boat they were on.
“Hurry!” Holt yelled, double-timing it for the edge of the last craft. He leapt off onto the solid ground, and the others followed, one at a time, hurriedly trying to—
One of the red Spiders bellowed in distorted fury. Holt and Mira spun around, looked back to where the walkers were, and saw one of them was staring with its huge three-optic eye right at them. Or, more specifically … right at Zoey.
“Oh no…,” Mira whispered to herself.
The giant walker moved for them, its legs spraying plumes of river water into the air as it walked. The second Spider turned, followed the gaze of its comrade, and moaned powerfully in response as its eye found Zoey, too. It marched after the first.
A hatch opened underneath the walker’s body. Mira could see something spinning there, growing, moving downward. A metallic claw.
“No!” she shouted, pulling Zoey to her protectively.
And then the red Spider walker shuddered as it was hit by a stream of plasma fire.
Five blue and white Raptors roared over, cannon firing at the red walkers. The second Spider wailed angrily and unleashed a massive spray of plasma cannon fire at the Raptors.
One of them took a hit, sparked, twisted, burst in flames, and crashed into the trees on the other side of the river.
More engine sounds reverberated in the near distance. Mira looked up in time to see three blue and white Osprey dropships bank hard and slow to a hover over the river. Dangling underneath them were more walkers.
They detached from the Ospreys, dropped to the ground, and powered up immediately, flashing colors and humming as their systems came online.
Eight Mantis walkers and a Spider.
The Ospreys’ engines roared loudly as they dusted off, powering straight up into the sky.
The new blue and white walkers turned their attention on the two red Spiders … and opened fire. Yellow plasma bolts screamed outward in a giant volley, slapping and sparking into the red walkers.
They bellowed in anger, the sound echoing up and down the valley as they turned to face the new threat.
Missiles flared from each of their batteries, roaring through the air like huge, angry bees. Blasts rocked the ground all around the blue and white walkers, already separating into smaller groups.
Plasma fire flew from both sides, screaming everywhere through the air, hissing and burning.
The flight of blue and white raptors roared by above … and they were now being chased by an equal number of red gunships that had appeared from nowhere, their cannons firing at the blue and whites.
Mira stared at Holt as she covered Zoey on the ground. He stared back, just as dumbstruck.
What was left of the trading post boats were speeding away downstream. Most of them were burning or damaged, but they were escaping. The red Spiders had forgotten all about them: they had bigger problems now.
Mira and Holt quickly studied the landscape. Everything was open country beyond the river; they would easily be picked off once the two sides finished blowing each other to pieces behind them. They needed another option, they needed something that—
Mira saw the huge Landship from before, still docked nearby. She saw the crew frantically scrambling over the top deck, but even so, it wasn’t moving. Its sails hung limp in their masts, in spite of the breeze blowing around them.
Mira couldn’t figure why they would wait so long, but she’d never been one to second-guess good luck.
“Holt!” Mira yelled as she pulled Zoey up after her and dashed forward. Holt saw where they were headed, and he didn’t look too thrilled about it. The explosions that rocked the ground nearby got him and Max following regardless.
The battle raged behind them. Raptors fought in the sky, disintegrating into flames and showers of sparks. The huge Spiders fired nonstop, spraying plasma, launching missiles. And the blue and whites kept up the offensive, trying to surround the reds.
As Mira ran toward the Landship, she could make out more detail of the huge vessel. It was beautiful. In any other situation, she would have gazed up at the craft in awe. But the gunships flashing by above kind of killed the impulse.
“Hey!” Mira yelled up to the decks. “Hey!”
A few heads peeked over the edge and peered down at her, but then just as quickly vanished. The crew was much more concerned with escaping than they were with listening. Mira didn’t blame them. More blasts flared along the river.
“This isn’t going to happen,” Holt said, looking around them at the battle nervously. “Let’s just go. If we get enough of a head start—”
Mira ignored him and yelled back up at the ship. “Something wrong with your Chinook? Maybe I can help!” It was a long shot, but it was possible the reason the Landship hadn’t set full sail out of this place yet was because something was wrong with its main artifact.
Wind power alone just wasn’t enough to move the ridiculously huge craft. Something more powerful was needed, which was why Landship crews used Strange Lands artifacts called Chinooks to enhance the power of normal wind, increasing it enough to move them. Mira had made a few Chinooks in her time—they were difficult to assemble correctly, but they always sold for a large profit.
More heads peeked over, then quickly scattered as another presence pushed to the front: a boy, probably somewhere around eighteen or nineteen, with an assuredness beyond his years and an obvious, cocky smile. Dark hair was layered back in textured waves on his head, and even from this distance, Mira could tell he was ruggedly handsome. He wore a black shirt tucked into black cargo pants, and a gun belt around his waist. As he gazed down at them, he placed a silver-tipped boot on top of the railing that circled the deck, and leaned casually on his knee.
“Say you’re right,” the boy said. “Say our Chinook is out. Say one of my lame-brained artifact handlers traded for a faulty component, and now we’re stuck while the Assembly blows themselves to bits a couple yards away. How do you propose to help? Beautiful women are the world’s greatest commodity, but right now, I really need someone with artifact experience.”
Mira blushed in spite of the battle raging around them, and she saw Holt glare up at the Captain. “Oh, please…,” he said under his breath.
“I’m a Freebooter!” Mira shouted up at the captain. “I have artifacts with me, probably the right ones to fill your sails again. How’s that sound?”
The captain studied her in a different way now. “Well. Beautiful and industrious. This could turn into a profit, after all.”
More explosions, more screaming missiles. Everyone—the crew on the ship and Mira, Holt, and Zoey—instinctively turned to watch the battle rage behind them.
The trees on either side of the river were burning. Raptors roared overhead, firing at one another, crashing in flames. Glowing fields of crystal-shaped energy rose into the air over burning walkers.
What was left of the blue and whites was concentrating their fire on one of the red Spiders. It bellowed horribly, shuddering with each plasma bolt and missile hit.
Finally, it collapsed, moaning a distorted cry as it fell into the water and blew apart in flames.
But no glowing field of energy rose from it. The black rust formed on its surface, spreading impossibly fast, engulfing the giant contorting machine like a metallic cancer. And then it went still.
The remaining red walker wailed angrily and launched the last of its missiles. But it wasn’t alone for long.
Behind it, two huge red Osprey drop ships suddenly burst into view, each carrying new Spider walkers.
Their engines roared as they hovered over the river, released their cargo, and quickly dusted off. When the two red Spider walkers hit the water, they came to life, whirring and flashing and rising to their full, enormous heights.
They opened fire immediately, sending plasma bolts toward the line of blue and whites, reinforcing the first Spider. The skirmish was
quickly becoming a full-scale battle.
The Captain looked down at Mira, not a glint of panic in his eyes. He certainly was cool and collected. “Are we bargaining?” he asked.
Landship crews represented a subculture focused on trade and commerce. To them, everything was done as part of a bargain, and the only honorable trade was one where both sides profited. If Mira had nothing to offer the handsome Captain above, she likely wouldn’t be getting on board. Fortunately for her, she did, and she had had enough dealings with Landship traders to know how the process worked.
“We’re bargaining,” Mira replied. “Simple trade, no conditions. I use my own artifacts to get your Chinook running. In return, you give us safe passage the hell out of here.”
An errant blast of plasma bolts burned through the air right above them. The ship’s crew flinched. The Captain did not; he just stared down at Mira, thinking. “It’s a binding merchandise trade,” he announced. “Any artifacts you use for our Chinook, you don’t get them back.”
“Fine!” Mira shouted, “just let us up!”
The Captain smiled. “My name’s Dresden. Welcome aboard the Wind Shear.”
Dresden disappeared and started yelling orders. On the side of the ship, a giant gangplank arched downward from the top deck and slammed onto the ground.
Mira turned to Holt, smiling with relief. But then she saw the frustrated look in his eye. “What?” she asked, even though she knew she wasn’t going to like the answer.
“My guns,” he said in frustration, turning around and heading back toward the chaos and the fire engulfing everything along the river. “I can’t leave them.”
“You have to be joking!” Mira exclaimed. “You can get more guns!”
“Not like these!” he yelled back. “Get Zoey on board. And hold that ship!”
Mira watched as Holt and Max tore back the way they’d come, toward the missiles and the flying plasma bolts. She could see his guns, lying in a heap near the line of trees that flanked the river, where he’d left them earlier. It was about a hundred yards away—he was going to have to be fast.
Mira shook her head, grabbed Zoey, and ran up the gangplank. Dresden met her, and together they rushed toward the ship’s central platform, where its huge wheel sat. “Can’t hold the ship for your friend, darling,” he told Mira. “Either he’s back on when we leave, or he gets left.”
“He’ll be back,” Zoey said. “Holt always comes back.”
Mira hoped she was right.
“Everyone to your posts!” the captain ordered as they moved. “You know what to do. Seal the ship—when our guest here gets the Chinook running, I want full sail in minimum time, hop to it.”
There was a flurry of movement as the crew, more than two dozen, leapt to action, running everywhere around the deck. Ropes were untied, and giant metal plates slammed down over the Landship’s windows and openings, sealing the weak spots.
The kids rushed to their stations on the deck, below deck, climbing the masts and sails toward the various crow’s nests a hundred feet above the deck.
Mira and Dresden stopped in front of the wheel, where two boys were frantically sorting through a pile of all kinds of nails, screws, pins, bolts, looking for something specific. One of them was hurriedly touching the end of an artifact combination to each one, one Mira recognized: a small Recognizer, a combination that detected other artifacts. If one of these pieces on the deck were a genuinely active Strange Lands artifact, it would react to them. So far, it wasn’t doing anything.
“Try the sheet metal screws!” the kid without the Recognizer shouted.
“I did already!” the other one yelled back. “They’re dead, they’re common. Those Rats sold us a bag of normal pieces of junk!”
“What do you need?” Mira asked them as more explosions flared up over the side of the ship.
The two boys looked up at her. “Who the hell are you?” the kid with the Recognizer asked.
“The one who’s gonna save your asses from my foot,” Dresden replied hotly. “She’s a Freebooter—start listening and answer her questions.”
“It’s for the Chinook. It’s an artifact that—”
“I know what it does, I’ve made them before,” Mira interrupted. “What do you need?”
The kids looked up at her and said at the same time, “The Focuser for the fourth tier.”
Mira nodded, unslung her pack. She knew what they needed, and she was pretty sure she had it. “I have a railroad tie. It’s bigger than you’re probably used to, but it’ll work in a pinch. What are you binding it with?”
“Short-gauge chain,” one of the kids answered.
“Get it!”
They rushed off toward their gear as Mira began digging through her pack.
The ship shook as more blasts rocked the ground, and she saw a second red Spider crash into the river in flames. When the Assembly were done with one another, they’d turn their attention back to finding Zoey … and then they were all screwed.
“And it started off such a nice day,” Dresden said, leaning against the ship’s wheel and watching the battle unfold.
“Tell me about it, I was having cupcakes earlier,” Mira replied. Where the hell was Holt?
* * *
HOLT ALMOST FELL FACE-FIRST into the grass as he skidded to a stop in front of his guns. They were right where he’d left them, and with the explosions and fireballs just a few feet away, the sight of his old friends gave him peace of mind, if only a little.
He grabbed the weapons and quickly shoved each of them into their holsters. Now all he had to do was double-time it back to the ship and its stupid Captain. What was up with that guy, with his hair and his boots? “Beautiful and industrious”? He’d show him industri—
Holt heard a growl next to him. He turned and saw Max staring intently at the tree line ahead, his hackles raised, lips parted to show his fangs. The dog didn’t like something there.
Holt looked up at the trees, but couldn’t see anything. The battle was in the other direction. What could have gotten the dog so riled up?
The air shimmered as the cloaking fields dropped from more Assembly machines, small, agile ones painted green and orange. Holt’s eyes widened in horrible recognition.
Only four of them had survived the Drowning Plains, and they stood in the trees like mechanical ghosts, their armor scratched and dented and soiled. Their three-optic eyes whirred as they focused on Holt.
“Son of a…,” Holt said as he got to his feet. “Max, let’s go!”
The dog tore himself away from the tripods and they both ran as hard as they could back for the ship. Behind them, Holt heard the frightening, electronic trumpetings and the furious stomping of tripod legs.
Yellow plasma bolts flashed past and shredded the ground all around him. Max howled as they ran; he didn’t seem to be enjoying himself now.
Ahead of him, the Landship stood where they’d left it. Holt could make it. All he had to do was keep running, and he could—
The ship’s giant sails suddenly plumed outward like great eagle’s wings.
Landship sails were beautiful, Holt had always thought, patchworks of colors and patterns, made from all kinds of fabric, and these were no exception. Orange and purple and yellow, they looked like huge pieces of art fluttering in the wind, but because Holt knew what it meant, he didn’t feel the desire to stop and enjoy the view.
Mira must have fixed whatever the ship’s problem was, and now it was leaving.
Without him.
“Hey!” Holt yelled, running even harder. “Hey!”
The gangplank that had been lowered to the ground arced back up to the top deck, and the ship groaned as its giant wheels began to slowly turn, crunching over the top of the rocky ground, gaining speed and momentum.
More plasma bolts burned the air. The stomping and trumpeting were almost on him. Along the river, two blue and white Raptors crashed in fireballs into their own ground forces, incinerating them where they stood. The
Landship was his only ride out of this insanity.
He reached the ship just as it started rolling, running alongside it. He looked for anything he could grab on to—a window, a railing, anything—but the ship’s wooden hull had been polished smooth. There was nothing to grip at all.
“Holt!” a voice cried down, and he looked up and saw Mira as she tossed over a mass of rope and wooden planks. When it extended, he saw what it really was. A rope ladder. Holt didn’t waste any time—he grabbed on, found purchase with his feet, and pulled.
It wasn’t a graceful process—he slid along the ground precariously, spitting rock and dirt behind him—but he finally managed to scramble onto the ladder enough to get his feet off the racing ground.
Above him, he saw the captain and some of his men grip the ladder’s ropes to start pulling it up. Behind, Max barked desperately, chased by the four tripods that were closing the distance fast.
Holt whistled three short notes, and the dog hit the afterburners, galloping after Holt with all the energy he had left. The ship was gaining more speed: he had only one shot at this. Holt gripped the ladder with one hand, and then reached out for Max with the other.
The dog leapt forward with the last of his strength, the tripods closing in …
… and Holt scooped him into his arms, held him against his chest tightly.
The dog didn’t seem very grateful—he squirmed and kicked, and it was all Holt could do to hold him with his one arm. “Max!” he shouted in annoyance.
Above, he heard yells as more of the ship’s crew grabbed his ladder and started pulling. The ground dropped away under him … and just in time, too.
The tripods finally caught him, but it was too late: he was out of reach now. Holt saw one was painted differently from the others, its markings the same colors yet individual. Bolder. More striking. He stared into its eye, and to Holt, it felt like the machine was glaring up at him with a burning, electric hatred.
Midnight City: A Conquered Earth Novel (The Conquered Earth Series) Page 19