The Dark Sky Collection: The Dark Sky Collection

by Amy Braun

  Relief swelled in my chest. Sensing Davy in my peripherals, I lifted my gaze and nodded gratefully to him.

  “Sonya’s a wonderful worker,” the old man said. He looked at her affectionately, like a father would look at a daughter he was proud of. “Great with the plants. Didn’t know how much I was doing wrong until she showed me some tricks.”

  Sonya glanced over her shoulder and smiled brightly at the elderly farmer. At that moment, I knew she would be safe. I didn’t need to worry about her anymore.

  As though she caught my line of thought, Sonya turned her head back to me and bit her lip. “Are you still going to cross the barricade?”

  I raised my hands from my sides. “What else is here for me? Ryland will be looking for Stanner and Dylan. When they don’t come back, he’ll start looking for me.” I dropped my hands. “He might even skip the search for them and come straight after us.”

  I glanced at Sawyer apologetically. To my surprise, he looked like he was assessing me rather than taking offense. Not sure what his expression meant, I brushed it off and looked at Sonya.

  “Besides, I’m free now. I’ve never been past the barricade. It would be nice to see what else is out there.”

  Sonya looked like she disagreed, but chose not to comment. She wrapped her arms around me and hugged me one last time. Her gentle lips pressed against my cheek.

  “I wish I loved you, Nash,” she whispered. “Then I would convince you to stay.”

  I chuckled. “Probably.”

  Giving her body one last gentle squeeze, I let Sonya go. Part of me wished that I loved her, too. But I knew we weren’t meant to be together. Maybe there was a survivor beyond the barricade that I would fall in love with. I knew Sonya would find someone to make her happy. I just hoped it wasn’t Sawyer. He seemed to be generally honest and noble, but he was still a marauder. Virtue wasn’t exactly his strongest suit.

  “Our deal still stands?”

  I glanced at Sawyer, who’d been speaking to Davy. The old farmer looked at his business partner and nodded. “Not sure how much pressure the Stray Dogs will put on me now that the Hellions are out in the daylight. Somethin’ I said would happen, as I recall.”

  Sawyer rolled his eyes, but didn’t make any other kind of reply.

  “Then I’ll be seein’ ya, Sawyer.”

  Davy put his hand on Sonya’s shoulder gently, and started leading her back into the house. She followed, her warm brown eyes lingering on me for the last time. I would miss her, but I knew this was for the best. She’d wanted this kind of happiness for years. After all she’d done for me, showing me how to keep my morals and sanity intact, the least I could do was wish her well on her new life. I realized then that I didn’t need to be in it. Sonya believed there was someone out there for me, and it would only be a matter of time before I found her.

  It was a search I looked forward to.

  I gave her a small, sincere smile. A final promise that I would be all right. I didn’t think it would be true, given how little I knew about the world beyond the Westraven barricade. I knew there were dozens of other provinces in Aon, but I’d never seen them. I barely remembered what they were called.

  But I could move on knowing that Sonya would be taken care of. She wouldn’t be cold or starved, and would never suffer abuse at the hands of a cruel man. That was enough.

  Sawyer walked down the porch steps with me. We rounded the farm’s water tower and stared at the barricade a hundred feet in the distance. I gauged the tall, jagged wall. Behind it, I could see the faintest tint of amber in the sky. The sun setting under the weight of a dark grey dusk. I gaze at the shrouded sun, its light so faint I was sure it would be snuffed out with the slightest wind.

  What would happen if I traveled beyond that barricade and found nothing? Aon was a huge country, and I didn’t have a map or transportation. Even if I went back to Davy and asked for supplies, they wouldn’t last long. This was assuming the Hellions didn’t spot me wandering aimlessly in the open and pick me up for a quick snack.

  “Can I offer some advice?”

  I glanced at Sawyer but didn’t reply. I figured he would give me his opinion whether I wanted it or not. I didn’t have to wait long to be proven right.

  “The Hellions won’t be interested in any other part of Aon. They’re targeting Westraven specifically,” he stabbed a finger at the Behemoth, but didn’t look at it. “That said, if they see anyone getting over their little barricade, they won’t be kind to them. You’ll have no one to help you if you get into trouble, which is something you seem to do very well.”

  “Don’t suppose you’re offering to come with me for a change of scenery?” I said in a bland tone, as I knew my answer.

  Sawyer’s smile was mischievous, clashing with his sad eyes. “Nah. Westraven’s not what it used to be, but I’ve got some good setups around here, Davy aside. Besides,” he glanced at the fractured city at his back. “It’s home.”

  I grunted in response. I didn’t have a whole lot of reason to stay. Yet when I looked at the ominous barricade and the dying light beyond it, I couldn’t find the will to move my feet.

  “Maybe it’s for the best,” I remarked. “You seem to get into more trouble than I do.”

  Sawyer chuckled. “Can’t escape it, really. I don’t have a voice of reason to talk me down from doing something reckless.” He paused, then said, “Though I’m not so high-and-mighty that I can’t ask for a helping hand.”

  I turned to face him. Sawyer’s eyes were as serious as they’d been when he’d squared off with Ryland, yet I could see a glint of hopefulness in them.

  “I’ve been trying to put a crew together since I found the Dauntless,” he confessed. “I can’t repair the ship on my own. I need other men and women to do it.”

  “Why? You can’t fly it. The Hellions own the sky and they won’t give it up.”

  “I didn’t say anything about flying it. I said I wanted to repair it. I might have found a way to move the ship to the ports.”

  “The cursed ports? The ones that the Hellions bombed to all but oblivion in The Storm?”

  “The same,” he answered. He snickered. “Funny how no one wants to go near the place that stopped being bombed only a month after The Storm began. I have the whole air hangar to myself. It’s big enough to hold the Dauntless, and then some. I have a full stash of supplies from Davy, but it’s too much for one person. I do need to sleep every once in a while.”

  “So what, you just want a little more muscle? How are you even thinking about moving the Dauntless? The Hellions will see you and come down like a hammer. By the time you get it halfway to the Ports, they’ll have bombed to pieces.”

  Sawyer was shaking his head. “Rainy season’s coming up. Hellions might be able to go out in the daylight now, but there won’t be anything they can do when the rains hit. Even their eyesight will be hindered. We’ll be the only survivors on the streets. I have some equipment in mind to move the ship, but I can’t do it myself.”

  I hesitated, glancing at the barricade again. The amber from the sun’s rays darkened further.

  “Listen, Nash,” I turned to Sawyer again. “I can’t stop you from leaving if you want to, but I doubt there’s anything past the barricade. The Hellions will have made sure of that. You might not find what you’re looking for.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “And what exactly am I looking for?”

  He held my gaze, his golden eyes darkening with sadness, and understanding. “Somewhere to belong.”

  I was silenced. I had no intention of admitting how right he was. It had been too long since I’d been a part of something. Felt like I mattered as a person more than a tool. I might never again have the family life I once had, but I began to understand that there was only one thing beyond the barricade.

  Loneliness.

  I was free from the Stray Dogs now. I would never let them get anywhere near me again. I was ready to start my new life, with new people. Even if one of them was a snarkin
g, reckless pirate captain with the same abandonment issues I seemed to have.

  The sun was gone from sight, casting a greyish tint over the barricade. Only the barest amber light remained along the top of the spiked wall. My chance to see the rest of the world was gone.

  I was surprised at how little I missed the chance.

  I turned to Sawyer.

  “You’ve got a deal. But you’re carrying all the heavy crates.”

  THE END

  SMOKE SKY

  A Dark Sky Novella

  Amy Braun

  Smoke Sky, a Dark Sky novella by Amy Braun

  © 2016 by Amy Braun. All rights reserved.

  This is a work of fiction. Any names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locations is entirely coincidental. No part of this book may be reproduced in any written, electronic, recording, or photocopying without written permission of the author.

  Cover Design: Deranged Doctor Design

  ISBN: 978-1-77340-001-3

  Chapter 1

  Nothing ever happens the way you expect it to. Even the most detailed plans wind up spiraling to oblivion’s bowels if you forget that one, minor, impossible-to-see detail.

  Then again, this was the first job I’d actually planned to the letter. I’m more of a wing-it-as-she-runs thief. Hasn’t always worked out for me in the past, and neither had this.

  Face it, Gemma. You just have terrible luck.

  “I know you’re here, girl,” the marauder below me growled, silencing my internal voice. “Come out now, and I won’t be too hard on you.” His boots creaked against the wooden floorboards as he stalked through the attic, glancing at the stacks of dusty crates and wondering which I was hidden behind. “Might even have a little party if you play nice.”

  Since he wasn’t looking up, he couldn’t see that I was perched on the rafters in the corner of the shadowy attic. I rolled my eyes and shook my head, pushing chin-length, sable hair away from my face. The world had fallen apart in the most abysmal way, but pirate men still thought with their cocks. If there was a decent man left alive in Westraven, I doubted I’d ever meet him. I didn’t run with chivalrous folk. Kind of hard to do when half the people in the city were desperate or dead.

  From outside, thunder growled with agitation. The storm had gotten worse in the short amount of time I’d been in the apartment. This wasn’t going to be a fun escape.

  “You took something that belongs to me,” the marauder continued, his dark-haired head flicking left and right to scrutinize the crates. “I’m getting it back, and I don’t care if you’re alive or dead when I do it.”

  While he rambled on about being stiffed, I looked for my exit. He’d spotted me just as I claimed my prize, but I’d managed to dodge him by being fast and tossing furniture in his path until I got into the attic. I’d climbed up the crates to get to the rafters then stuck to the shadows until he stomped up here to gripe. I hadn’t had the chance to look at my surroundings. As much as I wanted to believe he was too stupid to look up, I wasn’t taking chances.

  The murky, rain-drizzled window I’d used to get inside the building was on my right. I could use it again to slip out, climb up, and run across the roofs of the collapsed apartments, but this building was old and uncared for. The window’s hinges would creak. The marauder would hear me and holler his heart out. He would be the death of me.

  Not because I thought he would hurt me––I was much too fast––but because other things would hear him.

  Other, savage, inhuman things.

  A chill crept up my spine at the thought of the Hellions, but I needed to focus on my situation now–– escaping before the marauder shot me. Or worse.

  I reached for the window. My legs burned and I grimaced from the way I crouched, stretching my arm as farther than it should have gone, balancing on the balls of my feet, hoping I wouldn’t slip or be seen. My fingertips scraped the edge of the window frame. The window was still unlatched, but from the angle I was stretching at, it was too heavy to push open. I had to move closer.

  Figures.

  Holding my breath, I edged along the beam, glancing down at the marauder. He stopped cursing and spun in agitated circles. He was right underneath me. Now that I was closing in on the window, my shadow would fall over him and catch his attention. But I had no choice. I couldn’t stay here.

  Casting caution aside, I nestled onto the thin window ledge and shoved my palms against the icy glass, pushing with all my weight. The window resisted, but I kept pushing until finally the window nudged outward with a lurch and a screech. Wind and rain lashed into the opened crevice. Lightning illuminated the sky in a blinding flash and thunder roared its rage. I cringed and turned my head away.

  My eyes locked onto the marauder’s.

  He stared up at me, shocked to see me lurking over his head. I gave him a nervous smile and a wave. A scowl twisted on his ruddy face as he reached for the gun on his belt. I kicked the window with the flat of my foot, flipping it outward and fully opening the attic to the storm. I got on my hands and knees and scrambled out. I glanced over my head, but the distance to the roof was higher than I thought. Grabbing it would leave my chest and belly exposed to a bullet.

  As if in mockery, a gunshot rang out behind me, and splinters of wood batted my ribs and arms.

  Nope. Climbing wasn’t going to work.

  Rain slashed against my face, propelled by the icy wind. I swung my legs out of the window, and jumped from the attic.

  The fall wasn’t far, but it was rough. My boots struck a towering landslide of rubble ten feet down, which I used at the start of the job to climb up the apartment earlier. I landed in a crouch and felt broken concrete dig into my palms and bite at my knees. The rain soaked through the leather of my jacket, vest, work pants, and boots. The slim rectangular pendant around my neck slipped from under my shirt, and I quickly shoved it back, concealing it. Rain drenched me immediately, plastering my dark brown hair to my cheeks. I lurched to my feet and scrambled down the rubble. I blinked rapidly, blinking rainwater from my eyes. When I neared the street at the bottom of the landslide, I risked a glance over my shoulder.

  The marauder must not have climbed to the rafters, because I couldn’t see him in the window. He would have to trudge all the way back down the three- story apartment as fast as he could if he hoped to catch me. While I didn’t think he would give up the chase, he wasn’t my major concern.

  I looked up.

  A bloated shadow lingered in the sky, concealed by dark rolling clouds until another bolt of lightning ripped through them, electrifying the ship that owned Westraven’s sky, ordered the destruction of all of Aon’s country provinces, and kept us all living under its crushing thumb.

  The Behemoth.

  The airship was a monstrous melding of two separate pieces. The top half was a man-o’-war with four gun-ports lined the sides, each heavy cannon pointed at the city’s streets as a warning. Tall masts with black sails whipped back and forth in the storm’s wind, shaking like three angry fists. Both ends of the ship were spiked and curved like a demon’s horns. More spikes stuck out from the port and starboard’s iron plated sides, making the ship look like a flattened sea urchin. The exhaust port over the rudder spewed thick black smoke that slithered and disappeared into the thunderclouds like inky poison.

  Chained below the belly of the top ship was the second half, which mirrored the design of the upper portion of the ship and served as a docking port for the raiding skiffs the Hellions used to capture their food.

  To capture us.

  I didn’t see any of the skiffs leave the lower half of the ship, but I wouldn’t discount them from coming down in the torrential downpour. Despite their superb and frightening night vision, the Hellions had difficulty seeing anything in fog or rainstorms. Didn’t mean it was safe, however. When Hellions were hungry, they hunted. Rain only extended their chase.