Kéitlyudee’s back stiffened. “I will shoot his gun, but I will not wear anything that monster touched.”
“They’re planning something,” Cedar said after another corridor check. “I can hear muttering at the top of the stairs.
“You’ll have to go naked then,” Kali told Kéitlyudee, this time in English.
“Why would that be a requirement for distracting them?” Cedar looked over his shoulder. “Oh, you mean her.”
“You’re welcome to strip, too,” Kali said. “I’m still waiting to see if you have hammertoes.”
“I do not. My toes are handsome. Like the rest of me.”
Cedar set his weapons aside while he removed his shirt. He handed it to Kéitlyudee and reclaimed his gear. She regarded the shirt briefly before pulling it over her head. It dangled to her knees like a dress.
“Looks like we’re ready,” Kali said.
A metal tin clinked down the stairs and rolled to a stop near their door. Blue smoke hissed into the corridor. Cedar looked like he might lean out and kick the thing back the way it had come, but a gunshot rang out, and a bullet smashed into the door frame, inches from his head.
Cedar drew back, flinging an arm over his nose and mouth, and grumbled, “Smoke grenade.”
“That’s not a smoke grenade.” Kali pointed to the smoke nut in Cedar’s hand. “That’s a smoke grenade.”
“Yes, right. I’ll put it to good use.” Cedar nodded to himself. “You two ladies, go take care of bringing the ship down. I’ll give you the time you need.”
“Be careful,” Kali said. “If we land—” she decided to be optimistic and not use the word crash, “—Lockhart could be there waiting. And Cudgel too.”
Cedar had been readying the smoke nut to throw, but he froze in the middle of arming it. Slowly, very slowly, he lifted his eyes to meet Kali’s through the haze wafting into the cabin. “Cudgel is here?”
“I assume it was him. They called him Mister Conrad, and even the captain was deferential. He wanted me and was interested in the flash gold, but he said he was going off to set things up, so the Pinkerton detective would be sure to find you.”
Cedar was statue-still. If not for the subtle rise and fall of his chest, Kali might not have known he was alive.
“He wore a white suit,” she went on, “and had green-blue eyes. Seemed more like the slick, gentlemanly type than a ‘Cudgel,’ but I reckon you can’t go by looks.”
It was smoke billowing into the room and a round of coughing from Kéitlyudee that finally bestirred Cedar. “No, you can’t. That’s him.” He offered Kali a quick smile, though it did not reach his eyes. “I better survive these pirates, so I can get him. I’m not going to fail when I’m this close.”
“Be careful,” Kali urged again. She was thinking that she ought to give him a kiss for luck or elicit a promise that he’d return to her, or one of those other things women always did when men they cared about went into battle, but she was too slow, and Cedar opened the door and slipped into the smoky corridor. The haze swallowed him.
“What’s that?” a pirate blurted from above.
“He threw our grenade back—no, wait, it’s—” The speaker broke off with a cry of pain.
“Time for us to go,” Kali whispered to Kéitlyudee.
She trusted Cedar to give her the time she needed; now she had to make use of it. She tied a kerchief around her nose and mouth, then slipped out of the cabin, heading toward the door at the end of the corridor.
Though the pirate smoke grenade was spewing its last gray puffs, the acrid air stung her eyes, so Kali hustled. Behind her, gunshots fired. This time, they weren’t near the stairway, and she knew Cedar was on deck with the pirates.
When Kali opened the door, she almost tripped over a man sitting on the floor inside a closet full of pipes and levers. He stared up at her with bleary eyes and a bottle clenched in one meaty paw. Almost as surprised by his presence as he clearly was by hers, Kali scrabbled for her revolver.
For a man in a drunken stupor, the pirate reacted quickly. He hurled his bottle at Kali before she could tug the gun out of her overalls. She ducked, and it skimmed past her head and crashed against a wall of vertical pipes. Cheap alcohol and shards of glass flew. The man lunged to his feet, reaching for a gun of his own, but Kali kicked him in the knee to buy herself a second. She jumped back into the corridor, finally yanking her six-shooter free.
Kali aimed it at his chest. “Drop your gun.”
Her kick had thrown the man off balance, and he slipped in the spilled alcohol. In the confining closet, he couldn’t fall far, but his head smacked the wall and he dropped his gun. It hit the ground and went off. Kali flung herself to the floor. From the clang, clang, thunk that followed, she guessed the bullet never left the closet. A hiss of gas rose over the clamor coming from the deck above.
Kali winced. “On second thought, my suggestion to drop the gun might have been flawed.”
After hopping to her feet, she aimed her revolver at the pirate again, but he hadn’t moved since his head struck the wall. She grabbed the fallen gun and patted him down for other weapons, but didn’t find anything else. She eyed his corpulent form with a grimace. As tiny as the closet was, she’d have to move him out in order to step inside herself.
Kali grabbed his arm. Farther back in the corridor, Kéitlyudee was watching with her own revolver pointed loosely in the man’s direction. Kali thought about asking for help, but the girl barely seemed to have the wherewithal left to hold the gun. Kali dragged the two hundred pounds of dead weight through the doorway on her own, her legs and back trembling from the effort. Grunting and straining, she finally managed to tug the pirate out of the closet. Smoke lingered in the corridor, and she had to fight not to break into a coughing fit.
A door creaked open behind her. Damn, she had forgotten about that pirate.
He had found shoes, and he wore his weapons belt around his waist now instead of between his teeth. He had already extracted a six-shooter from it, and he pointed it at Kali even as she pointed hers at him.
“Who told you that you could come out?” she growled, putting all the steel she could muster into her voice, knowing that, without the flame gun, she did not have as fearsome a weapon with which to cow him.
“Put down your guns, girls,” the pirate said.
Kéitlyudee dropped her weapon and pressed her back against the wall, though she was farther down the corridor and not the focus of the pirate’s attention.
Kali flicked her gaze toward the stairwell and lifted a hand, as if Cedar had appeared and she was beckoning him for help. For a split second, the pirate’s eyes shifted. Kali fired.
Anticipating a return shot, she dropped down, almost landing on the unconscious man. The return fire came amidst curses, the bullet zipping over her head so close it stirred her hair. It clanged against metal behind Kali.
Her bullet had clipped the pirate’s ear, and blood streamed down the side of his head. It had to hurt, but he was lowering his gun to fire again. Still on her back, Kali shot first, this time leaving a smoking hole in his boot. The man howled and dropped his gun. Kali kicked it down the corridor and trained her weapon on the pirate again.
“I said, who told you to come out?” Yes, she was flat on her back, but she would shoot him again, in a more vital spot, if he didn’t back off.
Hopping on one foot, the man gave her a wild glare. Had he not expected a woman would actually shoot him? After a long, considering moment, he stumbled back into his cabin.
Kali yanked his door shut and scrambled to her feet.
“Stand here and watch this one,” she told Kéitlyudee, then stepped over the unconscious pirate and returned to the mechanical room. “Shoot him if he gets up.”
“You’re not afraid of them at all, are you?” Kéitlyudee asked.
Kali’s heart, still pounding after having that gun pointed at her face, belied that notion, but all she said was, “I’m sure I would be if I’d had your night
.”
She focused on the levers, on/off wheels, gauges, and pipes running from floor to ceiling in the cubby and scowled. Not only were there two holes in one of the pipes, but she couldn’t identify which gas was flowing out from them. The label plaques were in…“Persian?” she guessed. Her father had had books written in European languages, but he had never taught her how to read any of them, and everything inside the machine room was gibberish to her. “Why couldn’t these oafs steal an American or British airship?”
She leaned close to one of the leaks and sniffed, though she promptly rolled her eyes at herself when she didn’t smell anything. Both oxygen and hydrogen were colorless and odorless, so what had she expected?
“The holes are good, aren’t they?” Kéitlyudee had edged closer. “We wanted to sabotage things, didn’t we?”
“We want to bring down the ship. If the air supply is leaking, that’s not going to happen. We need to make sure they run low on hydrogen up there, but I’m not sure which one is which. How’s your Persian?”
The girl gave Kali a blank look.
“That’s about what I expected.” Kali picked up the alcohol bottle. Only the neck had broken, and the body appeared to be intact. “Will you get me the matches in Sparwood’s chest?”
Kéitlyudee paled, probably not wanting to return to that foul room, but she whispered, “Very well,” and headed down the corridor.
Kali drained the remaining liquid from the bottle. Gunfire sounded somewhere overhead. She wondered if anyone in navigation had noticed the pressure drop on the gas board yet.
“Here.” Kéitlyudee handed her a couple of long wooden matches with bulbous phosphorous heads.
Kali lifted her hand, but paused. “Better not do it in here.” Her dead father would cringe with embarrassment if she blew herself up by lighting a match in a closet full of hydrogen. “Wait for me by the stairs. I’ll have you light one over there.”
“All right…”
Kali decided not to explain the dangers of her little experiment. They would only worry the girl. She turned the alcohol bottle sideways and pressed the jagged opening as close to one of the holes as she could. Gas whistled past, cooling her fingers, and she hoped enough of it got into the bottle for her experiment.
When she judged the bottle to be as full as it would get, Kali plopped her hand over it as tightly as she could, given the jagged glass lip. “Light the match.”
She jogged up the corridor and placed the bottle on a step near the exit, hoping enough cool air was swirling down from above that they didn’t need to worry about hydrogen in the corridor. Kéitlyudee lit the match. Kali took it and, wishing for goggles, slid the flame over the bottle opening at the same time as she removed her hand.
The flame was sucked into the bottle with a pop.
“That’s it,” Kali said and ran back to the closet, tearing tin snips out of her pocket as she went. As soon as she reached the leaking pipe, she went to work broadening the holes so the gas would flow out more quickly.
“Uh?” Kéitlyudee said from the corridor. “What did we just prove?”
“This is the hydrogen line,” Kali said. “That pop we heard was the sound of the gas combusting really fast and the pressure equalizing inside and outside of the container.”
“Oh,” Kéitlyudee said, not sounding any more enlightened than before.
Kali worked on the pipe until she’d nearly torn it in half. “There,” she murmured. “That ought to bring this boat down.”
A shot fired in the corridor.
“Are they coming?” Kali stuffed her tin snips into a pocket and stepped out.
The smell of black smoke tinged the air, and Kéitlyudee stood, looking at her gun. “No. I mean, I thought someone ran past the top of the stairs, and I fired. They weren’t coming down though. I guess.”
Kali rubbed her face. The girl was as likely to shoot an ally in the back as an enemy. “Let’s go up and see if this hole is causing a problem for the navigator yet.”
Before they reached the stairs, the scent of smoke came to Kali’s nose. At first, she thought it might be lingering from her experiment or the gunshot, but it was wafting down from the deck above. She hoped Cedar wasn’t running around, lighting things on fire up there. She still had hopes for claiming the ship.
Kali eased up the steps, her revolver at the ready, and poked her head out. Darkness blanketed the stern of the ship, but toward the bow firelight pushed back the night and highlighted bodies—at least a dozen—littering the deck. The flames danced around an enclosed cabin where Kali could just make out the wheel of the ship and a bank of levers through windows reflecting the fire. Navigation. If any pirates were still inside, she couldn’t tell.
Her eye followed those flames upward, and she swallowed. If the fire grew a few more feet, it would be bathing the bottom of the balloon. If it burned through the outer shell and ignited the hydrogen, the fiddling she’d done with the pipe wouldn’t matter an iota.
“Cedar,” Kali groaned. “What have you been doing up—”
An impact jolted the ship, hurling Kali backward, amidst cracking wood and groaning metal. She tried to catch herself on the stairs, but her heel slipped off, and she tumbled to the bottom, landing in a painful heap. Shudders ran through the vessel. They must have hit something. Were they in town? Or on a mountaintop somewhere?
The ship groaned and scraped, pulling away from whatever it had struck.
“Are you all right?” Kéitlyudee asked.
Kali waved the question away and scrambled to her feet. “I’m fine, but I need to find Cedar. I want you to get off as soon as possible. If we can find his rope and grappling hook, maybe—”
Footsteps pounded toward the entrance above them. The navigators finally coming down to check on what had caused the hydrogen to vent?
Kali dropped to one knee and braced her wrist for a steady shot at whoever burst into sight at the top of the stairs.
“Kali!” Cedar shouted a second before he appeared. “I need you to—oh, there you are.”
Kali lowered the gun and ran up to meet him. Another impact rocked the ship, and a great cracking and smashing of wood shattered the night. This time the ship jerked to a halt, sending Kali flying forward instead of back. Cedar caught her and pulled her against his chest. His legs were spread, braced against the steps and the wall.
“We have to get off,” he said.
“Yes, but if we leave, we can’t take over the ship. The pirates will get it, and this fighting will have been for nothing.” Well, not nothing—they’d rescued Kéitlyudee—but Kali wanted the ship, damn it.
“We just crashed into a smokestack, and we’re on the roof of the mill, Kali,” Cedar said slowly, like someone trying to get something through the muddled thoughts of a drunk.
“Oh.” Kali supposed that answered her question about whether they were in town or the wilderness.
“There aren’t any pirates left either,” Cedar went on. “The only thing to worry about is that fire spreading to the entire town.” He pointed at the flames.
Dried blood streaked his arm. In fact, his whole chest was spattered with it, though he did not appear injured. Kali wondered if the pirates were gone because they abandoned the ship or if he had decimated them all. She decided not to ask.
Shouts drifted up from the town below, cries of, “Fire!” and, “Get the hoses!”
“Tarnation,” Kali said, as the new threat permeated her brain. She’d wanted to bring the ship down, not light the city on fire. She pushed away from Cedar. “Maybe we can get the ship off the mill and dump it in the river where the fire can’t spread.”
Cedar gave her a suspicious squint before letting her go. He probably thought she was still hoping to salvage the ship, and maybe she was, but she couldn’t let it turn Dawson into an inferno, not when she’d been responsible for sabotaging the hydrogen.
Kéitlyudee was lingering on the stairs behind her. Kali grabbed her arm and guided her onto the deck.
“My rope should still be tied behind that capstan over there.” Cedar pointed toward a railing on the aft side of the ship.
“Can you climb down?” Kali asked, eyeing the woman’s bruises.
Kéitlyudee nodded vigorously. She’d probably do anything to get off the ship and away from her night of hell.
“Go, then.” Kali waved toward the railing, then told Cedar, “I’m going to navigation. Cover me.”
Without waiting for approval—or dissent—Kali jogged across the flame-lit deck toward the cabin. Heat beat against her face, and wood snapped so loudly it hurt her ears. A shower of sparks flew upward, dancing toward the bottom of the balloon.
“Kali…” Cedar had caught up to her, and he grabbed her arm. “It’s too dangerous to go in there. You need to—” He broke off with a hiss.
Kali glanced over her shoulder and followed Cedar’s gaze. At the far end of the ship, a dark figure was slipping over the railing.
“Look out!” Cedar lunged, throwing an arm around Kali’s waist and bearing her down with him.
A gunshot fired, and a bullet skipped off the deck inches from Cedar’s head.
“Who—” Kali started.
“Lockhart.” Cedar jumped to his feet again, hauling Kali with him, and he raced around to the front of the navigation cabin.
It took them out of the detective’s line of fire, but, given the flames crackling and roaring a foot away, Kali did not know that they were any safer there.
“Do what you have to do in there.” Cedar leaned around a corner and fired a shot. “I’ll keep him busy.”
Kali hesitated, remembering his words from the restaurant. He didn’t want to kill Lockhart, so he’d be shooting only to maim. Lockhart, on the other hand, wanted Cedar more than anything else in the world just then.
“I’ll be fine here on my own.” Kali tried to shove Cedar toward the railing. “He won’t shoot me. You should get out of here before—”
Cedar darted away from her and fired twice into the night. With the navigation cabin blocking her view, Kali couldn’t see Lockhart, but she imagined him ducking behind some cover. Cedar waved Kali toward the open door, even as he ran and slid behind a capstan near the railing. Fire danced on ropes over his head.
Peacemaker (The Flash Gold Chronicles, #3) Page 11