A Tale of Two Airships (Take to the Skies Book 2) (26 page)

“How much longer?” I whispered to Geoff who leaned in beside me.

He shot a glance to the campground and down at his pocketwatch. “Any minute now.”

A strangled cry came from Cobb as a bullet tunneled through his chest. My heart stopped, and my brain refused to recognize as my reflexes took the wheel. It had come from above. He pulled himself closer to us, leaning against the bark as he tried to compress the leaking wound.

Looks like the gypsy on the perch wasn’t a friend. I clenched my jaw as we maneuvered around the girth of the tree. I peered out to spot the muzzle of a sniper’s rifle aimed our way. He locked us in his sights. Right as he squeezed the trigger, I pivoted behind again. The bullet plowed into the ground where I’d stood. Shit.

Cobb had begun to shudder, but Geoff already launched into action, tearing off his hem and working a makeshift bandage with the tattered fabric. If by some miracle it had bypassed the vitals, Edwin might be able to work his alchemical magic.

I peered out, but the muzzle still aimed our way. We played the song and dance again as he squeezed out another bullet, and I ducked. It burrowed into the ground next to the other one. I sucked in a deep breath. He’d fired three shots so far, which meant he had to reload.

By the next time this window opened, he might win Lady Luck to his side. I couldn’t risk that. Finger on the trigger, I snuck out from my cover to get a good shot. No risk, no reward. He spotted me at once while he fumbled to shove more ammo into his rifle.

Too late.

I squeezed the trigger, aiming straight for the throat, and by the Gods, my shot rang true. The bullet burrowed through before he lifted his rifle, and blood splattered the tree trunk behind him. From the force of the shot, his body swayed, and no longer able to claim control, the gypsy came toppling out of the tree to hit the ground with a sickening crunch. I tiptoed a quick retreat back to cover before one of the Red Oaks wizened up and took aim.

Cobb grew paler, and each breath came from him in shudders wracking his entire body. My throat tightened, and I gripped him by the shoulders, staring him straight in the eyes.

“We’re not going to lose you.” My voice came out thick, though I forced it steady. He grunted as our gazes locked, even though his limbs trembled. There I went, making promises I couldn’t hope to keep. The man faded fast, and if we didn’t find him help soon, he didn’t stand a chance. Yet here we were playing one hellish game of tag with the Red Oaks. We needed to turn the tides and fast.

“Now, Bea.” Geoff’s voice snared my attention.

Palm pressed against the bark, I leaned out to the side with the clearest view of the campground. An approaching Red Oak caught sight of me, and his hand darted for his machine gun, but by the time his finger reached the trigger, he wouldn’t be focused on me. No one would be.

My gaze never wavered from the red-flagged tent in the far corner of the camp; the one the Red Oaks had been running to and from this entire time. The one containing their entire stockade of weapons and ammo.

The one we’d set a bomb to.

“Zero,” I whispered, as the tent lit up like the sun.

Chapter Twenty Nine

If it had just been the bomb going off, the explosion might have been relatively small. However, when a bomb exploded in a room full of explosives? The results were devastating.

Anyone within the immediate vicinity of the tent lit in flames. My stomach turned as they vaporized into charred flesh and bone before my eyes. Heat blasted towards us, the tendrils reaching even here in the woods, and shrapnel from the inside of the tent rained down everywhere, slicing into gypsy and Red Oak alike. Stars burst in my eyes, white spots of light in the aftermath of such a blinding explosion. Smoke funneled skyward in the wake of the massive blast. My mouth formed a grim line.

While I didn’t like any casualties and hadn’t wanted to decimate the gypsy camp, I’d seen one viable option to drag the Red Oaks down to our level. Scaara hadn’t been in the know on that plan, because I couldn’t imagine she’d ‘yes ma’am’ me in response. Even Isabella had taken persuasion and more of the logical Mordecai sort. As the carnage rained from above, my tongue dried with the keen understanding of the destruction I’d caused. Of the lives I’d snuffed in one sweep.

My grip on my pistol tightened. However, dark times called for darker measures. When we were given no quarter, that’s what we’d dole out in return. The moment the shrapnel hit the ground and once the Red Oaks recovered their wits and navigated the smoke, they’d be marching for us. And they’d require blood. However, I was captain, whether on or off the Desire, and my job demanded I make my crew stand ready.

“Jack,” I called to where he stood behind a nearby tree. “You’ve spent plenty of time up high—take the tree perch over there. We need a vantage point.”

“Aye, aye, Captain,” Jack saluted before scrambling towards the perch I’d cleared out moments before.

One of the gypsy men stomped up to me, hands on his daggers and fury twisting up his wizened features. 

I placed my finger on the trigger and aimed the muzzle straight on him. “You might want to start talking, because I haven’t the slightest who’s friend or foe, and I’m a damn good shot.”

He stopped in his tracks, hands balling into fists. “Scaara said you were here to help us, not destroy our home, our people.” His voice filled with emotion, and I could tell our little stunt struck the wrong match. However, other gypsies were listening in. If we wanted to work together, we’d have to shove our complaints off the ship over this whole debacle. Here, every word uttered carried grave importance. And for some reason, these assholes still let me talk.

I lifted my chin and met his gaze, steel in mine. “Scaara’s dead. At the hands of these Red Oaks you let take over your clan because you couldn’t keep a handle on your traitors. We’re here to claim our men from the mess you lot created. If we were crueler folk, we’d make a deal with the Red Oaks and sentence you all; however, right now we share an enemy. They have machine guns. They have you outnumbered. If we don’t pull something drastic, there won’t be enough of you to scrape off the campground to form a clan.”

My voice lowered, and I met his gaze, all the while aware of the other stares burning their brands into me. “So here’s where you decide. Are you with us or against us?”

His hands unclenched as he stared at me, his grim face sharpened by shadows and his mouth open as if I’d slapped him. The aggression deflated from him before he answered, delivering the response before the words ever left his lips. “What do we do next?” he asked.

That question I’d memorized at this point. It was one a captain faced a thousand and one times, and I’d learned to always be ready with an answer. It didn’t have to be a perfect one, and hell, I could chew on those words later, but in the moment, people needed the confidence there
was
an answer. That we weren’t shooting blind in the dark.

“What’ll we do?” I asked, a smile curling my lips as my voice rose. “What will we
do
, crew?” I called to the rest of my people, knowing sure as hell what sort of crazy any member of the Desire would pull.

“Kill us some Red Oaks,” Jack shouted from his perch above.

“That’s right.” The full frenzy hit me, the rush of adrenaline before I embarked on true madness. “We are going to
fight
.”

The gypsies who’d rallied around us as well as my crew raised their voices in one loud war cry that shook the leaves from the trees. From our places behind the trees, we’d kept out of immediate line of sight, but the Red Oaks couldn’t hide from my brand of haphazard chaos any longer. Armed with machine guns and murder in their eyes, the lot of them had been united under Darren who led the rally as their entire squad began marching for the woods. Marked in uniform or not, the ugly grimaces on their faces as they closed the gap made them stand apart.

“You lot,” I gestured to the gypsies on my right. “Get to the treetops, and use the vantage point to your favor. Bird’s eye view’s better than shooting up.” At the command, at least a dozen men and women scattered. The rapid way they climbed up the trees hinted not only familiarity of the land but the fluid ease of a well-trained fighter.

The organized footsteps of the Red Oaks reverberated through the forest, but I couldn’t waste time quaking in my boots. “The rest of you lot,” I said, sweeping a hand to the oncoming intruders. “The time for hiding is over. Let’s make sure they don’t get a damn chance to use their guns. Close the gap as quick as possible, and folks? Leave the leader to me. I owe him one hell of a right hook.”

I leaned to Cobb who slumped beside me, his chest rising in uneven increments as he fought to keep breathing. His tanned skin took on a gray, paler sheen than I liked. “Cobb, my boy, you keep watch. Take down anyone who tries to make it past these trees.” I pressed the cold metal of his pistol into his hand, meeting his gaze. If the man went down, he’d go down swinging. We locked eyes, and in an instant he understood his fate, as unyielding as the steel in his palm.

“All right, crew,” I shouted, regarding my own as well as the gypsies at my back. “
Charge
.”

The second the command left my lips, everyone surged in unison. One earsplitting roar shook the air around us, and it took me a second to register our deafening noise as it quaked through the trees. My legs burned as I ran, but we needed speed if we wanted a chance at getting to the Red Oaks before they started firing. Air whipped around me as I pushed myself, faster and faster. Water leaked from my eyes due to the force of it as I left my escaped breaths in the dust, and my feet skipped over large patches of ground.

As if I flew.

Spurred by my adrenaline, I stared down Darren and his band of Red Oaks, even as they raised their muzzles and their fingers found the triggers.

Riding on fury and spitfire like a Valkyrie from Valhalla, I didn’t give a damn. I didn’t stop or falter. By the time those bullets sliced through the air, I’d be tearing them limb from limb.

I wouldn’t be tangling with any of the underlings either. Darren was in my sights with an insufferable smirk on his face and the sort of hulking body that reminded me too much of a traitor I once buried. At his hip, I caught the all-too-familiar handle of Matilda, her weathered grip one I’d palmed more times than I could count. Fire lit my veins as the rat-a-tat-tat of the first bullets breaking the air hit my ears, at the same time my arm ached something fierce. Hadn’t hit my vitals. My legs pounded beneath me, the force causing my stupid bullet wound to reopen. However, I hadn’t blacked out yet, so I remained in the game. No stopping me now.

Cries rang out by my side, and blood sprayed in the wake of our movement, but not a soul hesitated as we continued in one united front, charging towards the Red Oak mercenaries and the gypsy scum who’d allied with them. They’d cleaved my heart in two this past week, stealing away part of my crew and costing us another, and now they’d pay a thousand fold. Let them waste their ammo—because now they couldn’t reload.

By the time I’d started skidding, the impetus carried me several feet forward as I slid over fallen leaves, and a spray of dirt and dust flew in the wake. Not bothering to come to a full halt, I tilted to the side, focusing the rest of the force into a sliding kick. My boot thudded against the thick mass of his thigh, barely making a dent. The man was solid muscle, the sort that could take one hell of a beating.

However, unlike the bastard who’d conquered this camp, I’d learned tricks from a gypsy.

As my sole ground into his thigh, I hinged my knee to dip to his leather stompers with my other arm. His leg rose off the ground as he tried to shake me off, so I sprung back with the motion, landing on both feet, albeit a little shaky. But not before I nabbed the blade in his boot.

I moved the handle to butt up against my palm until it lay there comfortably. Fluid, fluid, fluid. The knife was supposed to be an extension of the limb itself. Those were the lessons Isabella drilled into me every time I’d bugged her to learn some new tricks. After all, what sort of a captain would I be if my crew could outfight me? Close quarter combat like this with an enemy I couldn’t physically best? Knives were the name of the game.

His meaty fist came flying towards me like déjà vu.

Except this time I was prepared. I grabbed the fist as it hurtled my way, letting my body whip about with the force he leveled behind it. Pain lanced through me at the motion—I’d taken one hell of a beating in the past week. However, my other hand thrust forward, viper-fast as the point of the knife bit him on the opposite shoulder.

Quick hits, fast. Never let the enemy get a grip on your blade. He could grab the flat and shove the blunt end back, which could do as much damage.

His knee thundered in the second the punch failed. Starlight exploded in my eyes as I staggered back, my ribs shredding with pain. Nausea rode me, and it took every ounce of willpower to keep myself upright. Blood leaked from my wounds, printing into the fabric of my clothes. Those blows were something fierce as the upside of my head had experienced. After a couple more sledgehammer hits from him, I’d be breathing from a tube the rest of my life—if I survived.

I kept a tight grip on my blade and stepped back a couple paces, giving myself enough space to breathe before I charged back in. Though blood trickled from the shoulder where I’d pricked him, the hit had needled him rather than any substantial score. I needed a hefty slice to a vulnerable spot if I wanted to walk away from this fight standing.

Darren glared at me, shoulders heaving and broad chest swelling up and down with his breaths. His hands were balled into fists, and his whole body tensed into one giant weapon. My muscles tightened so much they sang soprano, but I tried to fight through my instincts and dance back and forth, keeping my body limber and moving. The second I stopped moving, he’d try to land a hit. So I’d have to try a different gambit.

A knife flew over my head, followed by a curse, which snagged my focus. One of the gypsy traitors had thrown it, but if my attention left Darren, I’d be sunk. Before I could make any sort of decision though, Geoff’s pistol slammed into the side of the man’s face with a crack. My lip curled into a half-grin.

“My hero,” I called to him.

“Give him hell, doll!” He hollered as he kicked the man to the ground.

Darren seized the distraction, rushing for me in one juggernaut of a sweep. Since his shoulders were too broad and the man was too damn big, I couldn’t duck out of the way. Instead, I dipped to a squat, hoping to centralize my force rather than sweeping with the movements. My back hit the ground with a thud splintering all the way up my spine. My shoulder throbbed with renewed pain from the jarring motion. He crashed overtop me, the sheer weight of him crushing against my ribs. I struggled to inhale, the press of his massive chest keeping me from breathing.

Knife in hand, I jabbed for whatever muscle the tip sunk into, since my shoulders were pinned. The point inserted with a squish, followed by a scream from him, one that blew spit into my face. He pushed himself up, grabbed my hand, and cracked it sideways at the wrist.

Searing pain splintered all through me, and my nerves frayed at the edges as a scream scraped my throat raw. The knife lay limp in my hand, which refused to respond. Bile rose in my throat as my stomach convulsed over and over again while I tried to handle the intense agony rolling through me. However, in moving up, he’d made one mistake.

Using the small space between us, I shoved my knee up, jamming it between his legs as hard as I could manage. My knee collided with soft flesh. A groan emerged from his lips, and he ripped himself off me before I attempted a repeat.

No precious second wasted, I grabbed for the knife with my left hand, since my right lay useless at my side. Fumbling to get a grip on it, I heaved myself from the ground and staggered towards Darren, my soles slamming into the hard ground. My vision whirled from the stomach-heaving pain riding me in waves, but I fought through it. He’d pushed himself off the ground but shifted from side to side, trying to find his footing.

No damn way. He wouldn’t get the chance.

Leaning down, I sliced him, right at the ankles. I threw everything into the sweep, so much that the boots ripped like butter under the blade. His Achilles tendons followed as well. With one bloodcurdling howl, he collapsed onto the ground, unable to stand.

Fury rode my voice. “This is what happens when you fuck with me. This is what happens when you fuck with my crew.”