Hunted [The Flash Gold Chronicles] (4 page)

A shadow fell across the trail—a large
shadow.

“What’s that?” Kali slowed down.

It disappeared as quickly as it had come, and
beams of sunlight found the forest floor again.

“A cloud?” she asked.

“No,” Cedar said.

Yes, that had come and gone too quickly to be
a cloud. Eagles were common in these parts, but that had been too
large a shadow to indicate a bird.

Kali stopped the SAB and dropped her feet to
the ground. Spruce and pine branches created a latticework
overhead, impeding the view of the sky.

“An airship?” she asked, thinking of the
pirates who had attacked her in the dog sled race months
earlier.

“I don’t think it was that big,” Cedar said.
“And it moved quickly for an airship. Listen.”

With the chugging pistons of her vehicle
stilled, Kali could hear more of the sounds around her. No hint of
bird chattered cheered the forest. Something else sounded in the
distance however. Faint clacks and clanks.

“Some sort of machinery?” Cedar
suggested.

“Hm.” The sounds were already fading, as if
they belonged to a vehicle driving—or flying?—away. The idea seemed
preposterous. Who up here besides her made such things? The
townsfolk of Dawson, while not quite as quick to curse her and call
her a witch as those of Moose Hollow, thought her peculiar and her
inventions doubly so.

The sounds faded altogether, leaving the
forest silent except for the soft rumble of her own vehicle’s
idling engine and the rush of the nearby river.

“Maybe it’s nothing,” Cedar said. “We could
be close to a claim where people are using steam machinery.”

“Or maybe somebody’s hunting me,” Kali said.
When she had left Moose Hollow, she had not told anyone where she
was going except her friend Nelly, and nobody had attacked her
since she arrived in Dawson. Given the proximity of the two towns,
and the size of the bounty on her head, she was surprised it had
taken this long for anyone to find her.

“A possibility,” Cedar said.

“Should we take any precautions?” she asked,
willing to concede to his wisdom when it came to matters of
battle.

“Yes.”

“Such as?”

“You should let me drive so I can familiarize
myself with the workings of the vehicle.”

She glared over her shoulder and found him
smiling.

“Are you truly using the possibility of a new
and dangerous enemy to further your argument for why you should be
allowed to play with my bicycle?”

“If we’re attacked,” Cedar said, his smile
widening, “and there’s an incident rendering you unconscious, I
should know how to work this contraption so I can port you back to
civilization.”

“You needn’t look so excited at the prospect
of my incapacitation.”

“I merely believe in being prepared. May I
drive?”

“No.” Kali shoved the lever that controlled
the speed, and the SAB surged forward. “If I’m knocked out, wave
smelling salts under my nose. I’ll rouse myself enough to
drive.”

They continued onward for another hour,
navigating around mud puddles and horse droppings on the trail.
Twice more Kali heard the clanking sound in the distance, though
whatever was making it did not venture close enough to be seen
through the evergreen canopy. Nor did another shadow darken the
path.

They came to the edge of a meadow with the
burned hull of an abandoned log cabin hunkering in the middle. Half
its roof had caved in, and the door hung from a single, rusty
hinge. Drifts of snow framed the clearing, though it had melted in
spots touched by sunlight, leaving patches of matted dead
grass.

The trail passed through the meadow, but
Cedar gripped her shoulder before they entered it.

“Stop here,” he said.

“A likely ambush point?” she guessed.

“Yes.”

Kali gazed at the unimpeded expanse of sky
before them. “I am reminded of the open area where that airship
attacked us on our last outing together.” She eyed the sky again.
She did not hear any of those clanks at the moment, but...

“While I’d enjoy driving this,” Cedar said,
“I’d prefer you be conscious at the time in order to give me
instructions. Can we go around the clearing and stay under the
cover of the forest?”

She eyed the shrubs and brambles growing
between the trees. “Not unless you want to cut a path with your
sword.”

“I don’t cut vegetation with my blade. It
would take an hour anyway. It’s not that big of a clearing. We’ll
chance it.”

“If you say so.” Kali eased the SAB into the
meadow. “I suppose if you’re wrong, there’s always the chance an
assailant will target you first. You are larger and more
menacing.”

“I prefer
I
be conscious for my first
driving lesson as well,” Cedar said. “And I’m dangerous, not
menacing.”

They had traveled less than a third of the
way into the clearing when the clanks sounded. Kali should have
groaned and sent an irritated eye roll to the heavens, but her
curiosity distracted her. She wanted to see the source.

She did not have to wait long.

A metallic...contraption with giant mesh
butterfly wings bobbed over the treetops. The clanks grew louder as
it approached the meadow, and moving machinery came into the view.
The wings flapped in synchronization with the clanks. Kali craned
her neck, searching for another source for the craft’s propulsion.
The large wings might keep the flying machine aloft once it gained
momentum and found a place in the air, but they could not provide
enough thrust to carry it into the skies. Could they? The metal
frame appeared too sturdy to be light, and a compact furnace and
copper boiler behind the pilot’s seat must add significant weight.
Could magic be involved? Or even...flash gold? Was it possible
there was more out there?

Kali’s fingers twitched at the idea of
clambering about the thing, investigating every inch. The rider
sitting at the controls might object. Wrapped in brown, head
included, the figure was impossible to identify, though from the
slightness of the form, Kali guessed it might be a woman. The one
who had eavesdropped on them? Goggles covered the person’s eyes,
making it impossible to read her face, though Kali had a sense of
determination.

“...faster?” Cedar was saying.

“What?” Kali had been so focused on the air
vehicle and its pilot she had missed his words.

“Can’t you go faster? She’s aiming for
us!”

Before she could answer, a rifle shot fired
behind her ear. She flinched and nearly lost grip of the
handlebars, a calamity that would have pitched them over
sideways.

She glanced back as Cedar fired a second
shot. “What are you doing? She hasn’t even—”

Something thumped to the earth ten meters
before them.

Cedar grabbed Kali’s arm. “Veer away. Veer
away!”

More on instinct—and his orders—than out of
understanding, Kali pulled and pushed on opposing handles and
leaned into a hard turn. They skidded as wheels ground on old snow,
but they caught, and the SAB sped to the side.

A concussive roar filled the clearing, and
realization pelted Kali. No, that was shrapnel. It clanged off the
SAB and hammered against the charred side of the log cabin.

Kali turned again, figuring the structure
could provide cover. “She’s hurling grenades at us?”

“From a launcher in the front,” Cedar said.
“It appears to be some sort of crossbow-like device, loaded
with—”

Another grenade hit the ground, this one
exploding right away.

Kali sped behind the wall of the cabin and
yanked on the braking mechanism.

“—multiple projectiles,” Cedar finished.

Rifle in hand, he hopped off the SAB. Kali
hesitated, reluctant to leave her vehicle for fear it would make an
easy target if it was stationary. She probably ought to be more
worried about being a target herself, but the idea of losing such a
recent invention...

Cedar leaned around a corner of the cabin to
fire again. Kali nudged the SAB into motion, rounded the other
corner, and found the doorway. She considered the width. Could she
fit her vehicle inside? Probably not.

Above, the flying contraption tilted,
circling the end of the meadow to come back at them.

Cedar grabbed Kali’s arm. “Inside!”

“I don’t think it’ll fit,” she said.

“I meant you!”

The flyer flew closer, and Kali hesitated
again, fascinated by the wings, the construction, and even the
pilot. Was she the creator? Or had she merely purchased it?

The projectile launcher fired again.

“Kali!” Cedar pulled her toward the door.

Kali barely had time to grab her packsack and
rifle.

An explosion rocked the earth, and she
grabbed a log wall to keep her feet under her. Metal clanged as
shrapnel hit the SAB. She growled, her awe over the steam flyer
tamped down by her concern for her own vehicle. She dropped her
packsack and readied her rifle.

Shadows danced on the earthen floor of the
cabin as the flyer soared overhead. Rhythmic clanks echoed from the
log walls. Though the fire-damaged roof held copious holes, the
vehicle sped past too swiftly to target.

“We need a plan,” Kali said. “She’ll be
coming around again.” And she would probably hurl the next grenade
right in the cabin.

Cedar loaded a fistful of bullets into his
rifle. “Yes?”

“The wings seem a potential target, but their
surface area is great, so I doubt even a couple of dozen bullet
holes would cause them to falter. A catastrophic boiler explosion
will derail any steam engine, but engineers are well aware of that
weakness and build them soundly. I doubt a bullet would pierce the
plating, but it may be the most vulnerable part of the machine.
Perhaps we should target the boiler and hope for the best.”

“I was just going to shoot the pilot,” Cedar
said.

“Oh. I guess that could work too.”

When the clanks of the flyer grew louder
again, Kali and Cedar stepped outside. She dropped to one knee and
leaned around the corner of the cabin, rifle to her shoulder. Cedar
stood above her, his weapon poised as well.

Something that looked like glass provided
protection for the pilot, probably a deterrent to bugs and rain,
but surely it would not stop a bullet. Kali eased her rifle up and
placed the woman’s head in her sights. Her gut lurched at the idea
of shooting at someone with the intent to kill—especially if that
someone had invented that fascinated machine—but the woman
was
trying to blow them up.

Her finger found the trigger, but Cedar,
doubtlessly with fewer qualms, fired first.

The bullet struck the protective shield in
front of the woman’s eyes, and her head dropped out of view. The
flyer lurched sideways and dipped toward the trees.

“Bulls-eye,” Cedar said with grim
satisfaction.

But the flyer did not crash. Its nose
elevated, and the craft skimmed the treetops. It knocked branches
free with cracks that rang through the forest, but it soon flew
higher again, out of danger. The flyer banked and turned back
toward the meadow.

The pilot’s head was visible again through
the clear shield. Concentric cracks ringed the spot where Cedar’s
bullet had struck, but it must not have penetrated.

“Amazing,” Kali breathed. “There’s no way
that’s glass. Unless it’s extremely thick, but the weight would be
ridiculous, and a flying machine would need to be light, like an
eagle’s hollow bones. It’d...”

She trailed off when she noticed Cedar’s
glare. He seemed less amazed at the invulnerable shield and more
irked.

“Sorry,” Kali said.

“Let’s go back to your idea,” he said as the
flyer drew closer again. “You said I should aim at the boiler?”

Kali eyed the shield again. It protected the
pilot to the front and the sides, but it was open on the top.
Presumably the woman entered and exited the control seat from
there. It left her no protection from projectiles from above,
though she had no reason to anticipate weapons fire from overhead.
Air vehicles were rare, and the flyer was quicker and far more
maneuverable than an airship, so it could easily evade
balloon-based transport.

When it came in for another pass, Cedar
loosed a few ineffective rounds at the boiler. Kali considered the
structure of the craft, especially the supports for the wings,
supports that angled upward behind the pilot. She closed her eyes,
remembering problems she had worked through in her father’s
mathematics books. At the time, she had been trying to win his
favor by showing interest in his studies. He had been too busy to
notice, but she remembered many of the lessons, and a chapter of
geometry problems involving balls on a billiards table came to
mind.

“Same principle for bullets, right?” she
murmured.

“What?” Cedar asked.

“See that support beam behind her?” Kali
pointed. “You’re a better marksman than I am. Can you see if you
can hit it...hm...about a foot above that joint?”

Cedar threw her a bewildered look, but he
raised his Winchester and aimed when the flyer came into range. It
bobbed toward them, a grenade ready in its launcher. Cedar grew
still, then fired.

The bullet ricocheted off the angled support
post and slammed into the back of the pilot’s shoulder.

This time she screamed—the first sound she
had voiced—and the craft lurched. It sped off, wobbling as it
skimmed the treetops. The nose came up briefly, but it dropped
again, and Kali lost sight of the flyer. A thunderous crack sounded
in the distance.

“Crash,” Kali murmured, imaging the twisted
wreckage. She wished they could have downed the vehicle without
destroying it.

“Crash,” Cedar agreed without any of her
regret.

Kali leaned her rifle against the logs,
jumped, caught the corner of the roof, and wriggled herself up top.
Conscious of the fire damage, she stayed over the stout support
beams as she crept to the peak. Though the trees still towered over
her, the added height let her see smoke wafting in the distance.
Definitely a crash.