It was too calculated. Too uniform.
Kane grit his teeth.
“Son of a bitch.”
Tabitha looked at him.
“What?”
Kane turned back to Farnsworth.
“Have Benson fire the boilers now! It’s a trap!”
Farnsworth glowered at Kane.
“I’m Captain, Mr. Shepherd,” he said. “I’m aware of the situation at hand.”
“The hell you are,” Kane shot back. “It’s a setup! The Battle Cruiser won’t attack us!”
Cannonfire rang out, the telltale whir and whistle of drillers deafening as they sailed by the airship, possibly inches from the observation window. Wilson called out from the periscope.
“Sir! Gunnery ship behind the cruiser! They’re firing on us, sir!”
Gentry’s purring voice in Kane’s ear made his skin crawl.
“Leaving so soon?”
Kane moved to Farnsworth.
“Have Benson fire the boilers! Get us out of here!” He turned to Wilson. “The four cannons need loaders! It’ll cut down on time between shots!”
Wilson looked at Farnsworth. The captain looked at Kane, nodded.
“You heard the man, Wilson! Four more! Loading man for each cannon!”
“We only have the seven of us, sir,” Wilson said. “The rest are civilians!”
“Then recruit them to the cause!” Farnsworth roared. “All men want to survive!”
Wilson’s eyes widened as he stood straight as a board, saluted Farnsworth, then made for the hatch.
“This is a small transport ship,” Farnsworth said. “We don’t have what we need to fight back.”
“They don’t know that for certain,” Kane said. “If we can take down that gunnery ship, it’ll buy us a small window of time to get the hell out of here.” Kane stretched his hearing in an instant, heard the telltale sound of levers on cannons. Fire port.
Kane shouted at Farnsworth.
“Left!”
Farnsworth spun the wheel with a grunt, throwing his weight into it. Kane found a strap hanging from the ceiling just as the ship leaned to the left. He glanced at Tabitha, saw her crouch against the wall with her head down as Drillers whistled by the right side, barely missing the bow. Kane grabbed the com horn from above Farnsworth and shouted into it.
“Fire cannons when ready!”
The deck shook under their feet as the cannons fired from below. Kane manned the periscope, maneuvered it around to see the Gunnery Ship as it came at them. He zoomed in, could barely see the men scrambling to load the forward cannons.
“I hate this thing,” he muttered as he stepped away. He felt in his pocket to make sure his amulet was still activated, felt the slight vibration from the gears inside. “Aspectu aethereo!”
He reached with his hearing as he focused his Ethereal Sight on the gunner. Men moved on the deck, the captain shouting orders.
“Watch your fire,” the captain said. “We don’t want to hit the Battle Cruiser!”
The First Officer stood at the rails, relaying the orders to the crew as they manned deck guns.
“It’s a small ship,” he said. “They can’t dodge us forever!”
“Their cannons aren’t enough to reach us at this distance!”
A soldier stood on the deck below them, giving the First Officer a salute.
“Ready to fire!”
Kane reeled it all back in.
“Fire those boilers! Now!”
Farnsworth yanked the horn down and bellowed into it.
“Mr. Benson! Fire all boilers!”
The ship picked up speed as the gunner fired at them again. Kane felt the telltale shudder as something exploded at the stern.
The com above Farnsworth squawked to life. Benson.
“Captain, we’ve taken a hit!”
Farnsworth spoke into the horn again.
“Damage report!”
“It’s just a scratch, but we can’t take no more! Not if we don’t want to ride her to the ground in glory!”
Kane looked out at the gunner. She was facing them, drifting slowly. He cocked his head a little, the hair on his neck standing up as a realization hit him. He looked at Tabitha. She still clung to the guardrail, crouched low. She looked back at him, nodding as if in answer to his question.
Her eyes were white.
Kane went to the periscope and spun it completely around, his pulse quickening at the sight of five gunnery ships coming toward them. The Battle Cruiser continued its assault on Charleston.
Gentry’s voice echoed in Kane’s mind.
“You two are to remain here in Charleston.”
It all clicked together. Kane cursed under his breath as Farnsworth steered away from the lone gunner in front of them. Kane stepped away from the periscope.
“Farnsworth, go straight for him.”
The captain looked at Kane as if he’d lost his mind.
“I hope you aren’t serious, Ground-Hound.”
“Dead serious. Turn us about and sail us into the son of a bitch.” Kane reached for the horn, but Farnsworth smacked his hand away.
“We don’t have the firepower to take down a ship,” Farnsworth said, shouting in Kane’s face. “If we rush him, we’re as good as dead!”
“We don’t have the firepower to take down the five coming at us on the stern side, either,” Kane shouted back. “We have a better chance rushing one of them than five!” He reached for the horn again, grabbed it, and shouted into it. “Wilson! Are the cannons on tracks?”
The com barked back.
“Sir, yes sir!”
“All cannons forward and loaded! Fire on my command! Benson! Fire the boilers to maximum capacity! All passengers brace! I repeat: all passengers brace!”
Kane put the horn back and looked at Farnsworth. The captain glared at him, his jaw working, his considerable muscles tense.
“You have to trust me on this,” Kane said. “Take us right at her.”
Farnsworth gave a shout as he yanked the wheel, the ship leaning hard as it turned and steadied back, the attacking gunner dead ahead. Kane went to the forward window, his eyes on the ship ahead. He reached out with his hearing, going down to the cannon deck as he heard Wilson shouting orders, cannons rolling on tracks, men loading powder and cannonballs.
“Wilson, pack them with extra powder.”
He heard Wilson’s breath catch.
“Sir?”
“Do it. Aim for the cannon decks. I’ve got the gas bag.”
“Sir, that gas bag is armored.”
Kane smiled.
“Not against drillers.”
Another voice sounded off.
“Sir! Cannons locked in place!”
Wilson sounded back.
“Pack them heavy! Aim for their cannons. Fire on Commander Shepherd’s order!”
Commander? Kane shook it off. Not the time.
“Benson,” Farnworth barked behind Kane. “Where’s my fire, good sir?”
The ship moved forward. Kane reached for the other ship, his hearing wide open. He heard their captain laughing.
“Stupid asshole is coming at us? Ready the drillers! Aim for her nose! Fire on my command!”
“Steady,” Kane called over his shoulder. “We need to get closer!”
“We won’t be able to pull away in time,” Farnworth said. “This isn’t the Jezebel, Mr. Shepherd! No iron nose on this girl!”
“We’ll make it,” Kane said. “Get us closer!” He focused on the cannon deck. “Wilson, hold fire! Steady! Wait for my command!”
“Hold fire!” Wilson repeated. “Steady! Wait for the sweat on their brows!”
Closer. Closer.
Kane heard the men on the other ship sound off. He moved to the horn, his eyes on the gunner. Ready to fire, sir. All brace. Count of three.
Kane pulled the horn.
“Fire!”
He heard Wilson shout from the deck below just before he reigned in his hearing. Th
e deck vibrated under his feet as the cannons fired. All four shots hit the gunner in the cannon ports. Fire blew out from all sides as the shots ripped through hull, cannon, and crewman. Kane stretched his hearing again, this time behind them. Men shouting. Ready. Aim.
“Farnsworth pull up and starboard! Now!”
Farnsworth heaved on the wheel, pulling it toward him and spinning it right at the same time. The ship moved up and over, barely missing the gunner as the other five behind them opened fire. A few drillers zipped below the ship.
The rest found their mark.
The burning gunner died under the hailstorm of friendly fire, her gas bag collapsing, debris, cargo, and crewmen raining to the ground hundreds of feet below. Kane let his breath out as if he’d been underwater, his body soaked in sweat. Tabitha wrapped her arms around him, cheering as Farnsworth gave a loud laugh.
“Good show, Shepherd,” the captain said. He took the horn from Kane and spoke into it. “Full speed, Mr. Benson!”
Kane gently pried himself from Tabitha’s grip, went to the periscope, and turned it, looking back at the city as it grew smaller in the night.
The bottom of the Battle Cruiser was bathed in orange from the raging fires below. More bombs dropped. Streams of orange and red blew from the bottom like geysers, bathing the city below in liquid fire. Buildings fell, crumbled to the burning earth. A gas line blew, and fire billowed and plumed underneath the floating monster. The screams began to fade as the those who owned them succumbed. The scene grew smaller and smaller as the small transport moved away, leaving as the city of Charleston was swallowed in a hellish symphony of destruction.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Kane opened his eyes slowly, his head still wrapped around the dream that he’d just had.
Sitting at Ralphie’s across from Tabitha, his French Toast, bacon, and eggs on the same tab as Tabitha’s stack of pancakes covered in syrup and butter. She laughed at him shaking his head, wondering where she put all the food she ate. Bette brought coffee.
Jonesy walked in, grumbled good morning at Tabitha. Shot Kane the middle finger.
Normal. Everything he wanted. Everything he would never get back.
Kane still felt relief at the dream. No bloodshed, no Gentry, nothing about Kane hurting Tabitha. It was all gone. The Wendigo couldn’t torture him anymore. Tabitha stirred on top of him, her arms wrapped around him, her head nestled in his chest as she snuggled closer on the cot. She’d saved him. Nick and Wilhelmina had helped, but Tabitha had been the one to cut him out of the Wendigo.
Kane put his arm around her, held her close.
The small airship had only a few cabins for the crew to alternate shifts. Farnsworth had given Kane and Tabitha his, insisting on flying through the night. They’d escaped Charleston with no tail. Kane had watched the five gunners they’d run from turn their cannons on the city, working with the Battle Cruiser to finish off the last remnants.
Charleston, South Carolina, was gone. Gentry had won.
Mostly.
His plan had failed. He’d planned to destroy Charleston all along. He’d made his empty threats to appeal to Kane’s sense of duty to keep the people safe. All to keep Kane and Tabitha in the city and defenseless when the time came to level it to the ground. Everyone was to die. That was the bastard’s plan. Kill everyone. Not just the Revolution. Magicians. Civilians. Men and women.
Children.
Kane looked up at the port window, the sky outside orange in the morning sunrise. He was wide awake now.
And Tabitha could sleep through an explosion.
He worked his way out from underneath her, put his feet on the floor and stood despite her groans of protest. She opened her eyes and sat up slightly as he put his boots back on.
“Come back,” she moaned, pleading sleepily.
“Awake now,” he said. “Gonna go check on Farnsworth. Find out where we are.”
“Ask him to make pancakes,” Tabitha said as she slumped her head back down onto the pillow and closed her eyes again.
* * *
Wilson looked up from the charts he’d spread out on the navigation table near the periscope, nodded to Kane as he stepped onto the captain’s bridge.
“Sir.”
Farnsworth glanced at him, nodded, looked forward again. The man looked as if he’d not slept in a month. Wilson had obviously gotten some rest, looking wide awake and high-strung as usual. He stared at Kane expectantly.
Kane raised an eyebrow.
“Where are we?”
Wilson looked back down at the charts quickly as if being reminded that he had a job to do. He picked up the compass, walked it down the chart a bit, then sat it down.
“Um…I have no idea, sir. South.”
Kane looked out the observation window. The morning sun rose over the ocean, the water reflecting the orange and purpled hues of the sky, the caps white as the waves broke here and there. Kane looked off to the right, saw land moving by slowly.
Wilson stepped over to the periscope, manned it, and turned to the right, looking over the coast.
“Captain,” he said. “Settlement only a few clicks from the coastline, sir. Hard Starboard and straight on.”
“Aye, Wilson,” Farnsworth said as he reached for the com horn. “Attention all aboard: turning hard Starboard. Landing shortly.”
“Are we sure it’s friendly?” Kane asked Wilson as Farnsworth turned the wheel hard right.
Wilson turned a dial on the side of the viewer, adjusted the lenses.
“It looks like a fort, but I don’t see any cannons or scouts.”
“We land either way,” Farnsworth said from the helm. “We’re low on coal. We land now before the lady doesn’t give us a choice and sends us crashing.”
* * *
The road along the riverbanks was long overgrown. Wilson managed to find a couple of machetes aboard the airship, and helped Kane clear the brush as they made their way toward the fort, Tabitha and Farnsworth following close behind. The woods soon cleared into a small, open field where people had likely once toiled away, harvesting cotton and corn while others tended to small vegetable gardens strewn about. The fields were barren now, burned and dead. The fort itself was small, a barracks surrounded by a wall made of felled trees. Kane noticed a few other buildings, or what was left of them at least. The place had been hit hard, likely from the Civil War. The ruins looked as if they’d been around for a while, some of them becoming ideal surfaces for vines and plant life.
“What is this place?” Tabitha asked, moving up next to Kane.
“No idea. I don’t even know where we are.”
Farnsworth moved up, stepping in front of them and looking around as Wilson followed dutifully.
“Make sure the place is empty,” he said. “Fan out.”
“No need,” Kane said. He drew his run on the amulet and cast his Ethereal Sight, looked around the black and white world. Auras. Traces of life. Anything.
Nothing.
“Place is empty,” he said. “Maybe abandoned.”
“Sir, we may be somewhere in Florida,” Wilson said. “We flew South from Charleston, according to the compass on the ship. This could be Fort Dallas.” He glanced around. “What’s left of Fort Dallas.”
The fight for the coastline had been intense, and the Northern Union had figured on taking the coast first to intercept shipments, then moving in and fighting the Confederates once their supplies were low. They’d underestimated the Confederate army, though not before the major strongholds in Florida were decimated.
“If the place really is abandoned, then there should be coal somewhere,” said Farnsworth. “Take note of what you find. We’ll move the ship here and load up.”
“I think we should take the day,” Kane said. “Spend the night, at least. Give the people on board a break from being cooped up in the storage hold. It’s just a small transport. They’re a little cramped. We all are.”
Tabitha clapped her hands.
“O
oh! Campfire! We could tell scary stories!”
Kane looked at her sidelong.
“Maybe not. I’ve had enough scary over the past few weeks.”
Tabitha looked back at him, into his eyes, her smile fading a little. Her face lit up again when the realization hit her. He smiled as she slugged his shoulder.
He wasn’t kidding. Still, it didn’t mean he couldn’t play into her goofiness a little. She needed the levity.
He did, too.
“We make camp, then,” Farnsworth said, eyeing Kane. “Mr. Wilson, inform Mr. Benson that the airship is to be moved to the landing pad at this fort. Mr. Shepherd, Miss Drake, and I will search for coal and anything else we could use.”
* * *
The day ended up being fruitful. The fort had a coal mine not far away, and the stores were full. There was enough to fill the airship’s coal reserve and then some. Every man on the airship spent the rest of the day shoveling coal and loading up while Tabitha helped the woman tend to the fort, cleaning the barracks and prepping the cooking fire. Once the coal was loaded, Farnsworth led a group on a hunt, returning with a few squirrels and a deer. It was late by the time the meat was cooked, but the meal was welcome.
Kane sat on the ground, not far from the fire. He’d found a stool, but gave it up to a pregnant woman who needed a seat. He was fine with sitting away from the group as they ate and talked in low tones. He wasn’t feeling social.
Tabitha approached him, smiling as she held out a squirrel on a stick. Kane shook his hand, waved it off.
“No thanks,” he said. “I’m full. God, that was a lot of meat.”
Tabitha shrugged and took a bite of the squirrel as she plopped down next to him.
“You okay? Not like you to be so anti-social.”
Kane raised an eyebrow at her. She laughed.
“Okay, so it is. I was trying to be nice.”
Kane shook his head, leaned back against the tree as he looked back at the people by the fire.
Gaslit Armageddon (Clockworks of War Book 2) Page 26