Grey Griffins: The Clockwork Chronicles #2: The Relic Hunters

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Grey Griffins: The Clockwork Chronicles #2: The Relic Hunters Page 15

by Derek Benz; J. S. Lewis


  “What’s the point?” Max asked. “He’s not going to pick up when he sees that it’s us.”

  “I suppose you’re right,” Natalia said. “But it’s infuriating. I mean, I don’t know if I should feel sorry for him or be angry.”

  Harley shrugged. “Either way, it doesn’t matter. He’ll come around or he won’t, and nothing that we do or say is going to change that.”

  “Here we are,” Jasper said. He was holding a tray with plastic cups filled with punch. “I’m sorry that we don’t have better tableware, but this is the first gathering that the master of the house has held at our humble workshop.”

  “It’s perfect,” Natalia said before taking a sip.

  “How’s that pizza coming?” Harley asked.

  “It should be just about done,” Jasper said.

  The clockwork was about to return to the kitchen when the music stopped. Then static started to blare through the speakers before a voice spoke.

  “… I repeat, this is not a drill. All available emergency vehicles should report to number Eight Harbor Drive. A group of masked vigilantes, presumed to be the Agents of Justice, have entered the abandoned apartment building. Smoke is pouring out from the second- and third-story windows….”

  “That has to be Ernie,” Natalia said.

  “How far away is that apartment building?” Max asked.

  “Eleven point four miles,” Jasper said.

  “Is there a subway stop nearby?”

  “The nearest is next to Drummond Park, four blocks away.”

  “We’ll never make it,” Max said.

  “Yes, we will,” Harley said. “Monti has a team of clockwork mechanics working on Logan’s aerocar. Most of the structural work is done. So is the engine. All it needs is some paint.”

  “It only holds two people,” Max said.

  “That’s not a problem,” Harley said. Then he smiled. “I have my own ride.”

  Even without the fog, it would have been difficult for Max and Natalia to see the streets from the sky. It was only six o’clock, but the streets of Bludgeon Town were already wrapped in darkness. Besides, the aerocar was moving so fast that the world below was a blur.

  The headlights weren’t helping much, even with the high beams. All Max could see were swirling vapors and an occasional seagull that would dive out of the way as they tore through the sky. There were gas lamps meant to light the streets, but most were either snuffed out or shattered.

  Flying with Logan had been unnerving. Flying without him was terrifying. Max gripped the steering wheel until his knuckles were white. His jaws were clenched and his breathing was shallow. “Do you have the map working yet?” he asked just as a church steeple emerged through the fog.

  Max jerked the steering wheel to the left, and the aerocar followed. At the insane speed they were traveling, the slightest adjustment was amplified. The aerocar dipped, sending Max into the driver’s side window as Natalia’s head snapped hard to the left.

  “What are you doing?” she asked. Her chest was heaving and her eyes were wild with worry.

  “Sorry,” Max said as the aerocar leveled out, “but it’s hard to see in this mess.”

  Natalia tried to compose herself, pushing out thoughts of splattering into the side of a building. She hit a series of buttons on the panel until a screen showing a grid of the city came to life. “That must be us,” she said, pointing to a flashing light.

  “Where’s the fire?”

  Natalia typed the address into a keyboard below the display. When she hit Enter, a red dot appeared. “We’re close.”

  Pulling his eyes away, even for a moment, was risky. There were clotheslines draped between the buildings like strands of a spiderweb, not to mention a forest of chimneys releasing steam from factories and smoke from fireplaces. Still, Max looked at the map.

  They were off course, but not by much, so Max nudged the steering wheel until the green light was heading directly toward the red dot.

  “Can you see Harley?” Max asked as he shifted his attention to the horizon.

  “I can’t see much of anything,” she said as she strained to look at the streets below.

  “What about the comlink?”

  “I’ll try,” Natalia said. “Harley, can you hear me?”

  There was a crackling sound.

  “Harley, are you out there?” she asked.

  More static.

  “There must be some kind of interference,” Natalia said.

  “Natalia,” Harley finally said, though the connection was poor. “Where are you?”

  “Where are you?” Natalia asked.

  “It’s hard to say,” Harley said. “What about you?”

  “We’ll be there any minute.”

  “Don’t do anything crazy until I get there. I brought some heavy firepower.”

  FALLING

  Maneuvering through the narrow streets in the Mark Four armor would have been difficult under ideal conditions, but the fog was making it nearly impossible. Lights shined from lamps attached above both shoulders, and even though there were two more planted in the Mark Four’s chest, none of them were helping much.

  The armor drew attention as it plodded along like an overgrown toddler learning to walk. It was so heavy that the streets and sidewalks couldn’t support it. Harley left potholes with each step. He knocked over light posts and crushed shrubs, but there wasn’t time to feel guilty. For the moment, all Harley cared about was saving Ernie from the slavers.

  It wasn’t a smooth ride. Harley’s teeth chattered under the roar of the engines as the cab of the armor shook. Still, he worked the levers and pulleys to keep the Mark Four upright and on track as he headed to the abandoned apartment building where Ernie and the other changelings were trapped.

  Harley decided to take a shortcut through a park. A flock of pigeons took to the sky once he broke through a line of trees. An old man on a park bench watched with his mouth agape as the strange machine emerged from behind a bank of fog.

  Visibility was obscured. When Harley finally noticed the enormous water fountain, it was too late. He wasn’t sure if he could change his trajectory without tipping over. Harley slowed the pedals, but he knew it wouldn’t be enough. His only choice was to stop.

  Harley applied the brake mechanism, but he was going too fast. The armor’s knees locked, and then the machine started to topple. He moved the left foot forward, hoping that would stabilize it before he fell into the fountain. The machine swayed and then fell forward. Harley put his hands out to brace for the impact, and the armor followed.

  Its massive arms held steady on the rim of the fountain, causing stone to crack. The armor shook, and the engine chugged as steam spit out of the exhaust. Harley gritted his teeth before pushing off. It was too strong. Now, instead of falling forward, the Mark Four threatened to topple backward.

  It took unsteady steps backward as Harley fought for control. He waved his arms, hoping that would help compensate for the lost balance. The old man on the bench was right behind him. If the armor fell, it was going to crush him, but the old man couldn’t move.

  Harley planted his right foot, and the armor stopped teetering. Harley closed his eyes and exhaled. Sweat poured from his brow. The engines below burned hot, but the perspiration was as much from nerves as it was from the suffocating heat.

  Harley pressed forward.

  “Over there!” Natalia said, pointing to a flood of lights that streamed into the night sky, cutting through the darkness in swirling pandemonium. The lights were coming from spotlights attached to enormous trucks parked outside the abandoned apartment building where Ernie and the other Agents of Justice were trapped.

  Max steered the aerocar toward the chaos. Below he could see red and blue lights flashing from the fleet of emergency vehicles pouring into the street. Sirens screamed and constables shouted at the growing crowd, warning onlookers to stay clear.

  An explosion shook the building. Max watched as constables, firefighters, pa
ramedics, and spectators were thrown to the ground. He pulled up in time to avoid a ladder that jutted up from the fire truck, only to fly into wet sheets hanging from a clothesline. They plastered the windshield like papier-mâché.

  “Where are the windshield wipers on this thing?” Max asked. As he felt around the steering wheel, the aerocar dipped right, then left, and then right again.

  “I don’t know, but you need to do something!” Natalia shouted.

  “I’m trying.”

  Natalia decided to take matters into her own hands before they crashed into the side of a building. She unbuckled her seat belt and rolled down her window to lean out. The cold wind tore at her face as her braids flailed.

  “What are you doing?” Max asked. “Get back in here before you fall out!”

  Natalia stretched, reaching her arm around at an odd angle, but the sheet was just out of reach. She leaned out farther as a gust of wind blasted the aerocar, knocking it off course. Natalia screamed as Max lunged.

  He grabbed the back of her coat, keeping her from falling out the window while he tried to steer the aerocar. His momentum took him too far. They tilted to the right until the wings of the aerocar were perpendicular to the ground.

  Natalia continued to scream as Max let go of the steering wheel. He grabbed her with both hands this time and pulled with all his might. Natalia shot back into the cab of the aerocar, but not before grabbing the sheet.

  The aerocar started to spin out of control. Max took hold of the steering wheel as Natalia let go of the sheet. It lifted into the air and floated off. She fumbled to strap back into her seat belt, but her hands were shaking too much.

  Max fought to regain control as a red light flashed on the dashboard. The map on the display screen disappeared, only to be replaced by a video image of Logan. He looked upset. “Do I even need to say it?”

  The aerocar was spiraling out of control. “Hold on!” Max shouted through chattering teeth.

  “What’s going on?”

  “We’re going to crash!” Natalia shouted as she watched the ground closing in on them below.

  “You’re what?”

  “Pull up!” Natalia said. Her hands were gripped tightly to the sides of her bucket seat.

  “I’m trying,” Max said.

  “Try harder.”

  Max yanked back on the steering wheel. He gritted his teeth, and the veins on his neck popped out. The belly of the aerocar sparked as it scraped against the cobblestones. The grating sound was worse than fingernails raked over a chalkboard.

  Max pushed on the throttle, and the aerocar shot back into the sky, rising over the tops of the buildings and out of the fog. As he leaned back into the headrest, Max closed his eyes and exhaled.

  “Are you okay?” Logan asked through the speakers.

  “I think so,” Max said as he turned to Natalia. “How about you?”

  All she could manage to do was nod.

  “Good,” Logan said. “Now I want you to turn around and head back to Monti’s workshop before you go and get yourselves killed.”

  “We can’t,” Max said.

  “Let’s forget about how many laws you’re breaking,” Logan said. “Do you have any idea what kind of men these slavers are?”

  “Probably not,” Max said, “but I can’t let them take Ernie.”

  “The chief constable and his men are already there.”

  “We saw them.”

  “So turn around. They have it covered.”

  “I’m not leaving him… not this time,” Max said.

  “Listen to me,” Logan said. “I’m giving you a direct—”

  Max reached over and turned off the screen.

  “What are you doing?” Natalia asked, her eyes wide.

  “We’re not leaving him,” Max said. He was determined as he steered the aerocar toward the apartment building. They cut through a bank of fog, and one of the beams from a floodlight hit Max in the eye, temporarily blinding him.

  “There’s a clockwork in the window,” Natalia said. “It has some kind of weapon. Max, look out!”

  There was a burst, like cannon fire. Something hit the side of the aerocar and exploded. The aerocar shook, spinning out of control. Max managed to regain control long enough to avoid hitting the side of the building, but he couldn’t change course before they smashed into a chimney.

  Brick and dust sprayed into the air as the aerocar careened against the wall of an old warehouse. The impact tore the left wing from the body. “Do something!” Natalia shouted.

  Max pulled on the controls, but the aerocar wouldn’t respond. The hull twisted once they struck the pavement. Sparks flew as the aerocar slid across the cobblestone street. It teetered before hitting a curb, flipping it over onto its hood and crumpling it.

  It smashed into the side of a warehouse, where its nose punctured the wall, sending bricks down on the aerocar. Max groaned as he shook his head. He was disoriented, and it didn’t help that he was hanging upside down.

  Smoke seeped from the engine. A spark flashed and flames erupted. He looked over and saw that Natalia was unconscious. He tried to reach her, but his arm was pinned. Blood was seeping from a gash on her forehead. The windshield was shattered. She hadn’t been wearing a seat belt.

  “Natalia,” Max said. His voice was weak. She didn’t respond.

  The flames grew higher. The heat was unbearable. Max fumbled to find the seat belt release, but his fingers wouldn’t cooperate. He was fighting to maintain consciousness, but he was losing the fight.

  “There they are!”

  Max turned his head. He could see silhouettes running toward him through the smoke and flames. Max started to cough. It was so hot in the cabin that components on the dashboard were melting.

  “Get them out of there before it blows!” someone cried out before the door was ripped open. Frantic hands searched for Max’s seat belt release but couldn’t find it. There was a flash of steel. A knife cut through the fabric of the seat belt. Max fell on his head before someone dragged him out of the cabin and into the street.

  “I’ve got you.”

  Max was being cradled like an infant. Whoever it was, they were running. Max tried to open his eyes, but he couldn’t. Right before he drifted off, he heard an explosion.

  TOO LATE

  As the Mark Four trudged down the street, Harley could see the lights from emergency vehicles flashing behind a barricade that Chief Constable Oxley’s men had built. The curious crowd of spectators was growing. They didn’t understand the danger they were in.

  “I’m here,” Harley said through his comlink, but his only response was static. He tapped the speaker in his ear. “Max… Natalia, are you there?”

  Harley continued to march. The ground shook with each step he took, catching the attention of constables. With weapons drawn, they turned their attention to the monstrosity of metal that approached.

  “What is that thing?” one said.

  “I think it’s one of them clockwork killers,” another answered.

  “Stop!” a constable shouted. His plasma pistol was quavering in his hand, but to his credit, he stood his ground.

  Harley didn’t stop. In fact, he didn’t even bother to slow down.

  As the shadow of the Mark Four passed over the constable, he closed his eyes and fired. The blast ricocheted off the armor, leaving a burn mark but nothing more. Harley kept his momentum, and the constable rolled out of the way.

  Harley ignored the constables as he broke through the barricade. Shots were fired from somewhere in the dark, and like before, they bounced off the armor and landed in the street. Harley stopped. His searchlights scanned the darkness for his attacker, but he couldn’t see anyone.

  More shots were fired. One hit the protective glass that covered the armor’s cockpit, leaving a crack. A clockwork was standing in a window up above with a rifle in its mechanical hands.

  Harley stopped the armor, twisting a crank that controlled the cannon on his right shoulde
r. The cannon moved to the right, but it went too far. He adjusted, bringing it back to his left. Then he leveled the barrel until it was pointed up at the clockwork.

  The clockwork blasted three more rounds from its sniper rifle, but Harley’s armor was too thick. He returned fire with a missile shot from the cannon. Harley watched as it screamed through the night before blasting into the wall. Brick was turned to powder as the missile put a hole in the side of the building, knocking the clockwork out of the window.

  Someone shouted. The clockwork didn’t make a sound until it struck the pavement, where the metal casing blew open. It released a shower of cogs and gears that bounced before skittering down the street and into the darkness.

  Harley turned his attention to the front door and shot a second missile from the cannon. There was an explosion, but when the smoke settled, Harley could see that the only damage was a dent. Two more missiles struck the wall next to the door, puncturing a hole in the building that was big enough for a double-decker bus.

  “I’m going in,” Harley said. He waited for a reply from Max, but it didn’t come. “I repeat, I’m going in.” Still nothing. Figuring that he was in some kind of communication dead zone, Harley decided to press forward. Smoke poured from the gash in the wall as Harley guided the armor into the burning building. The machine scraped against brick, creating a shower of sparks as he squeezed through.

  The heat from the inferno was intense. Heavy smoke obscured his view, but Harley could still see Barnabas Glover standing on the balcony. He spotted at least two other slavers on the ground, along with another clockwork.

  The machine raised an arm that ended in a Gatling gun instead of a hand. The barrel spun as it released a ferocious barrage of bullets that pounded against the Mark Four. Harley fought to keep it from tumbling over as it staggered, but then it hit a wall.

  Once the armor regained its footing, Harley charged with hands raised. He brought the mechanical arms down on top of the clockwork, and the machine crumpled.

  Across the room he could see Yi burning out of control as the fire around him rose higher. Other changelings were unconscious on the ground. Harley scanned the rest of the room and spotted Ernie trapped under a net. He looked terrified.

 

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