Distraction, he told himself over and over as he advanced. Jackdaw needed a distraction.
Running in wild and firing would get him nowhere. Dead, certainly, but something like that would be over with quickly and not necessarily in his favour. With very little choices at hand, Jack did the only thing that wasn’t expected of him.
He strode, quite confidently up the steps, through the doorway onto the bridge of the Messiah. When his presence went unnoticed, Jack considered what to say to garner their attention.
He went with something obnoxious. ‘Derek Sanders,’ Jackdaw crowed. ‘I thought I could smell you in here.’
Everybody on deck spun in alarm, none more so than Derek who couldn’t believe what he was seeing, let alone hearing. Immediately the others had reached for their weapons and begun firing, forcing Jack to scuttle down behind a series of desks that, thankfully weathered the attack. Wood sprayed in fragments.
The distraction worked, but for how long, Jackdaw couldn’t guess. At this rate it would be a matter of seconds rather than minutes.
Derek signalled for everyone to stop – despite the fact most had run dry of ammunition and required reloading.
‘Jacky boy? You are hardy ain’t you?’ Derek said, manoeuvring back towards the window.
‘What can I say? I was built to last.’
‘And here you are making some sort of intrusion on my bridge.’
‘It ain’t your bridge, Derek,’ Jack yelled, ‘and it’s no ship of yours neither.’
‘Oh, Jack. This is a delight. And I suppose you want to dispute that claim of ownership? Come on out. We’ll talk.’
‘Just trying to steal what’s rightfully mine is all. Seems as though your kin don’t want to make it easy for me though.’
‘They’ve always been rambunctious. Oh I’ll be sure to tell them to behave and such if you just come on out here. We can discuss your agenda all civilized, like.’
They each turned in query at the suggestion. Derek waved it aside, silently suggesting it was just a ruse to draw him out.
‘Derek, you’re about as civilized as a pig that found its way into a grain store,’ Jack called out from his shelter.
Derek’s face crinkled up as he gestured for others to outflank the intruder with sharp snaps of his hands.
‘Don’t be insulting me none, Jackdaw! Don’t be doing that now! We’re entrepreneurs now, I’ll have you know, honest and true. This whole rig is mine and when I sell it off, you’ll be finding a hefty score landing in this here lap.’
‘I got something to say about that,’ Jack stated. He flicked his head from side to side, watching misshapen reflections of the advancing Sanders Boys cross glass faceplates and warp from pipe to pipe. When sure of himself Jack took the one to his right, leaning out and dropping the first with a shot from the Pendulum. When the second looked away, distracted by the man jolting backward, Jack poked his head out and let fly a shot that landed cleanly in the man’s chest, toppling him like a woodsman would fell a tree.
Gunfire rained down upon him causing him to flinch wildly. Now there were only two protecting Derek. The odds were very much improving.
‘Sorry, that was two things. You’re crazy if you don’t believe they’ll send in some gun-happy fellas to clean house instead. You really think Seratto will just let the jacking of one of their Arcadia sand ships slide without recompense? They’re probably on their way right now.’
Derek went silent in thought. It was telling that he paused for so long, so Jack filled the void with a revelation.
‘Oh wow.’ Jack erupted with patronizing laughter. ‘You did know it was one of Seratto’s, right? Security collective? Have all manner of idiots who prefer the sound of a gun than a negotiation? Did you not even know who you were stealing from? Do your boys? Oh you’re in a world of mess.’
The pair of onlookers looked to each other in alarm, then to Derek again, who was unable to withhold his fury. His red-faced outburst was delivered less than eloquently.
‘Don’t get all high and mighty, Jack! We’ve got plans abound. Big plans! Things you just ain’t privy too. And the likes of you ain’t going to change things none!’
Jack scrambled across the floor during this distraction, lending to a cavalcade of raining gunfire to pit the flooring. Nobody wanted to advance on him and the standoff was becoming irritating.
‘Pity you won’t be around to see them come to fruition.’ Jack wheezed. Surely some had to be out of ammunition by now. Only now did he notice the sharp flesh wound from a ricocheting bullet, fortunately only grazing his skin, but unfortunately having bit his left calf. Putting weight upon it stung more than hurt but still it was a disadvantage he could do without. Focusing on the rearmost window, he hoped that Alvina wasn’t too tied up to provide assistance. The distraction had done its job. A little help now wouldn’t go amiss.
‘Jack, Jack, Jack … playing doesn’t become you. Best you step on out here so we can exchange man’s words, don’t you agree? I’m getting tired of asking for you to be polite.’
‘Some time you and I need to play cards,’ Jack called, tightly clenching his leg wound to stem its bleeding. ‘You can’t bluff for the life of you. And the life is what I’m aiming to claim in this here instance. Like I did to your bastard brothers. The undertaker is going to have to fell a forest for all the wood needed for their boxes. Though some will need to be scraped together to be collected. Those’ll be fitting in something considerably smaller.’
Enraged at this, one of the more trigger-happy relative’s face hardened, unloading at the wood and steel protrusion Jack hid behind. Sparks erupted all around, curtailed only by Derek who roared for him to cease. He did so and silence filled the deck once more.
‘Come out, Jack. There’s no place to go!’ Derek spotted the dashes of blood from one of the desks to where the annoyance had retreated. ‘And you’re injured. I’ll tell the boys to put their guns down. I’ll even do so myself. You hear that? I’m keeping my word. Let’s see your face. You have my word, no tricks from us as long as there’s none from you.’
Jackdaw timidly raised a hand, quickly drawing it back to see if it would be set upon. It wasn’t, instead, holstering the Pendulum, he raised the second. Nobody fired. In fact, true to his word, Derek placed his weapon on the steering column and the others put their weapons down nearby, each making deep, sequential thumps.
Jackdaw rose to his feet, feeling the slight need to hobble. Arms held high.
Derek seemed more disappointed than angry now, the product of a flawed ego that caused his temper to shift at a moment’s notice. While not unpredictable, Derek did have a curious sense of honour, one Jack had witnessed and, indeed, exploited in the past for his own gains.
Here though, Jack played his advantage in plain sight.
‘What kind of fool thought he could do this alone?’ Derek sighed, flanked by the pair of grim-looking grunts who were too impatient to give the orders and seemingly too jittery to enforce them. Behind, the rear of the ship was visible through the arching glass that looked out on the ship’s aft, segmented by the cargo space. Even in the dull light Jack noticed the gentle flash among the metalwork, a pulley arrangement utilized to move the cargo down below with a colossal winch and overhanging crane. The glint came from upon the crane itself, suspended over the drop, giving a perfect line of sight to the bridge.
‘I’m all for being a fool in the right time and place, Derek. Here though? Here’s not the case. I’ve been buying time. You would have noticed but you clearly love the sound of your own voice too much. You see … I’m not actually on my lonesome.’
Derek flicked his eyes past Jack’s shoulder and to the window, catching the sight of the low sun dancing from a rifle’s scope. Two cracks of gunfire rang out, shattering the glass to pieces. Two members of the Sanders family fell. Derek was not one of them. He had dived to the floor and rolled away for protection. Rest assured, a third shot would have found him but at this point, the surprise had been s
poilt.
‘Oh where would I be without my fair Alvina?’ Jack strode out, the shift in power now very much apparent. He waved to the woman who smiled through her rifle sights, then he beckoned her to come and join him.
‘Lying in the dirt no doubt,’ Derek called, looking around him for options. The gun by the wheel was tantalizingly close. The bodies of his family now providing no more than obstructions, despite attempting to cling to life. The last rolled his head aside as he breathed his death rattle that emanated as a sodden gurgle.
‘Maybe so.’ Jack paused to mock. ‘Derek? Are you still listening to me? Here’s an idea, come on out. Let’s talk about it. I promise it’ll settle things quickly.’
The previous gunfire ensured that wouldn’t happen. The last of the Sanders men came charging up the deck’s stairwells to witness the commotion, boots pounding like a snare of thunder that rolled over the topmost deck. It was now only a handful, since the Jackrabbits had harshly pruned the family tree, but still enough to ruin the moment.
As the deck rumbled with the striking of feet, Alvina crashed inside, her rifle clenched tightly.
‘We’re about to have guests, Jack!’ she called in alarm, taking a conservative guess at how many pairs she could count, though her imagination conjured a lot more.
‘Looks like your luck has run out, Jacky boy! Can you hear that? Can you guess what comes for you?’ Derek announced, prone but looking to his weapon once more, simply waiting for his window of opportunity. The footfalls got louder. The thunder reached its apex. ‘Hold tight, friend. Here is your comeuppance!’
The first body through the doorway immediately stumbled forward as Alvina put a round into him. From the second, Jackdaw instigated a wail as a shot was carefully sunk to his abdomen. Undeterred, the siblings behind leapt over in a hungry charge, and laid down a curtain of substantial firepower. Derek snatched his weapon back and added his bullets to the fray.
Immediately Jack and Alvina fell low, scurrying behind cover from one end of the bridge to the other. Papers sprayed in pieces into the air, as did wood, tin cups and other paraphernalia left when the Sanders Boys initially took control. The bridge window, one long panoramic pane, was dashed with inaccurate shots, punching hole after hole until it finally shattered in a cymbal crash. Covering their heads, the Jackrabbits continued their retreat, attempting to get as much distance as possible.
‘Go, go, go!’ Jackdaw demanded, keeping his head down as pellets of glass rained down and coated their hair. Pipes gushed out steam when punctured, metal sparked angrily from the walls as every bullet narrowly missed the pair in their heated scramble. The opposite entrance to the bridge was locked up tightly, leaving Jack with little option but to court foolishness.
‘I have an idea. Cover me!’
‘This better be good, Jack!’
‘Keep ’em down for just a second and we’ll find out!’ Jack ordered. Alvina sprung up and fired away, keeping the pressure up as best as she could before running dry, but the job was done. She hadn’t the time to look beside her, as Jack blind-fired over his cover, but he had yanked out one of the flares from his belt and held the protruding fuse close. Quickly, he dipped the fuse into the barrel itself when he ran empty, letting the heat inside set it sparking into life. Then, he tossed the stick into the middle of the room.
The cries of ‘Dynamite!’ were numerous as everyone made a mad scramble for the furthest scrap of shelter they could find, but rather than endure an explosion, the flare erupted into an almighty blast of ruby red smoke. In the time it took for the Sanders Boys to realize that it wasn’t actually dynamite, it was too late.
Jackdaw had positioned them by the emergency door. To Jack this outing constituted an emergency. He had spun the hand wheel to release the lock then crawled on all fours over the flimsy-looking gantries that fed down the ship’s exposed recess, all the way to the cargo bay beneath. Alvina followed closely behind. Immediately they descended at speed, or as close to speed as Jack could manage, given the state of his leg.
* * *
The bridge’s interior was filled with haze of red, blasts of which bellowed furiously from the flare. These were sucked out from the through-draught, leading it to rise free to the dusk-painted sky. Derek ran through with a hand clasped over hand and mouth. Unlike the ammunition used before, there was no irritant in the mixture. Whilst the Sanders Boys’ visibility was hampered, it served as a distraction and nothing more.
Derek clung to the frame of the emergency door, waving away the plumes that escaped around him and were sucked out. Spotting the pair descending the rickety stairwells, Derek stabbed the air with his weapon, firing wildly.
‘Why are you running, Jack? Have we done talking? Are we finished already?’ he bawled.
Alvina and Jack ducked in alarm, sparks blazing from the little protection that the flimsy metal provided. Derek paused to reload.
‘Smoke? You’re trying to smoke us out?’ he yelled, borderline insulted at Jack’s methods. This was ridiculous at best. He cried out aloud, arms aloft in scorn, hoping that the fleeing rogue would have this impression burnt into his deepest recesses for the rest of his days. ‘Whatever happened to the great Jackdaw, huh? Your legend seems to be lacking when you face reality. You’re walking away from a kingly score so easily? Flying away when things get difficult? You had me, Jack, you could have pulled the trigger any time and you didn’t. You’re not cut out for all this. Maybe when I return to Esquelle, we’ll take whatever dealing you have in place for our own and put you in the ground for good. You’re too weak to run an operation any more. I had heard the rumours but to see it with my own eyes is embarrassing. But me? I think I will step up to the mark and make Donovan more than happy with our results. I’ll be a villain for the ages.’
* * *
Jackdaw could take a beating. He could take the pain his leg administered with every step, the numbing sting doing plenty to keep his thoughts sharp in the scramble. But his reputation? Bodies break and fall but a reputation done right is immortal. There was no way this rodent was going to tarnish Jack’s. Not with the seconds he had left alive.
‘That there’s the problem, Derek,’ Jackdaw called up through the metal lattices. ‘It’s a big wide world out there and there’s always someone ready to take on the title of villain. It’s a damn shame you won’t be alive long enough to enjoy it.’
Alarmed at the cryptic wording, Derek turned back on himself, witnessing the deep red that swallowed up the contents of the bridge. A flash in his mind had him scanning his eye line, presuming that the flare must have been a signal of some sort. He hadn’t noticed the train before, up on the canyon side that seemed to be keeping speed with the Messiah, sunlight dancing from its carriages. What he could see was the bulbous cannon on the rearmost carriage.
Derek threw himself out onto the gantry and began to give chase to the Jackrabbits.
* * *
Meanwhile, aboard the Morning Star, Franco leant out the carriage window with a pair of binoculars. The loss in light was now hampering things, so he thought it best to obtain something to assist. He scanned the ship from bow to stern. At one point he could identify someone being tossed from the side.
A burst of smoke had begun to trail from the bridge and, as he adjusted the focus, the last of the daylight revealed that the smoke was red. Bright, brilliant red.
‘That’s it! That’s the signal!’ Franco called to Misu behind him. ‘Tell Corinne to aim for the bridge!’ Franco called out.
Misu picked the receiver from the top of the telephone and relayed the orders.
Katerina called out above the clattering of the carriage across the tracks. ‘Corinne, orders are to aim for the bridge, a flare’s been spotted.’
The periscope was eased to the Messiah’s bow, the visor’s black measurements already being lined up with the finest of movements.
‘I see it.’
‘Can you hit something like that when moving?’ Katerina asked nervously. ‘That’s an
awfully small target …’
‘Watch closely, little one.’ Corinne grinned feverishly, intoxicated by the thrill this brought her. ‘You just may learn something. Firing in five.’
‘Firing in five!’ Katerina called back into the telephone.
The cannon thundered in tandem with Corinne’s cry of elation. From its barrel the shell sailed over the gulf between them and the ship in a high-pitched whistle and slammed into the bridge. A fireball erupted from the impact, blasting a chunk out of the structure and sending it collapsing down, down into the Messiah’s very guts. The ship lurched violently from the impact, easing it off course.
The showgirls at the car windows, taking the spectacle in, exploded in a unified cheer. Air was punched. Exclamations of astonishment were numerous.
Katerina cautiously waited for Corinne to speak. When the shell hit, Corinne punched the air, still looking through the periscope’s visor, and called out ‘Gotcha!’ so loud, her companion leapt in surprise.
Misu watched the fireball puff out and light up the surroundings before the darkness embraced it once more. The boom shortly followed.
‘What did I tell you? The girl is good with a gun,’ she stated to Franco who felt quite proud of the woman in their employ. Franco nodded in agreement but this wasn’t over yet. One good shot rarely won a battle.
* * *
The shell slammed into the Messiah’s bridge with such force that it lurched the entire ship momentarily before crashing back down on both tracks, though now off the straight line that its route was taking. The resounding boom almost shook everyone off their feet. Derek slid down the ladder to the point where his hands burnt from friction but failed to move low enough. Despite speeding down to the second deck, the ladder detached from its mooring, set itself at an angle and tossed Derek down into the cargo hold as he yelled aloud.
The explosion had sent flaming pieces of the bridge erupting outward, raining down onto the lower levels. The bridge itself was a tangled mess, belching black smoke with a section of it hovering precariously over the side. Its considerable weight coupled with the heat of the fire caused it to dangle, suspended only by sections of twisted beams that would inevitably give way.
Den of Smoke Page 26