Storming: A Dieselpunk Adventure (52 page)

In front of him, Jael flung first one stocking and then the other out of the plane.

For the love of Mike, what now?

Then she stood up, and it all made sense. His heart kept right on galloping. But if anybody could pull this off, she could.

The ladder was their only chance now. If he could get the ladder within reach, maybe Aurelia and Walter could grab on to it.
Maybe.
He growled. That kind of trick was scary enough with a seasoned professional, much less an addled woman and a little boy.

Jael gripped the cabane struts holding up the top wing. She swung out first one bare foot and then the other. As soon as her toes touched the canvas, she leaned forward and grabbed the guy wires. Hand over hand, she passed herself from the wire to the strut near where the ladder was affixed. She looked a whole lot more like a monkey than that society belle she’d been imitating earlier.

She unfastened the ladder and it exploded out into the wind.

He applied opposite stick to compensate for her offsetting the center of gravity, then eased the Jenny around for one more pass. All he had to do was get the ladder in close enough for Jael to help Walter and Aurelia onto the ladder—and then keep the plane steady while he matched pace with
Schturming
.

Sweat trickled down the side of his nose into his mouth. He licked it away.

Walter and Aurelia still clung to the rope. They’d already slid halfway down the envelope. That rope could give at any second.

He rammed the Jenny in close to the envelope. And then closer yet.

Only Jael, crouching on the wing, held steady. Her skirt whipped around her thighs. She gripped the heavy strut with one hand, then swung herself under the wing and down onto the ladder.

Let her make it, just let her make it. Hitch held his breath.

Between the wings, Aurelia blinked into view.

Hitch throttled back just a little and rose until Aurelia was beneath him, hopefully right where Jael could reach her and guide her hand onto the ladder. Nope, too much. He gunned the engine the tiniest of smidges, then held steady.

Aurelia’s wails filtered to him. Jael shouted something.

Aurelia rose out of view above the top wing.

That was bad.
Schturming
was climbing. Hitch nudged the stick back and added a little power to match the climb. Ahead, the sky was a black wall. If he lost
Schturming
in this, that’d be it for good and all.

Once more, the Jenny’s wingtip hung steady beside Aurelia.

Still wailing, Aurelia pried one hand loose from the rope and lowered it toward Jael. Immediately, she slid a good five feet down the side of the envelope.

Hitch pitched down and reduced power to keep up with her.

She reached again—and let go of the rope with her other hand.

His heart somersaulted in his throat for a second.

But then the Jenny took the full brunt of Aurelia’s weight on the ladder. Jael had caught her. The plane’s whole frame shuddered. Hitch overcompensated, and the Jenny yawed hard left, away from the dirigible—and Walter.

Hitch fought with the controls. The weight beneath him swung around, first one way, then the other.

Jael had to get Aurelia under control, or they were all in big trouble.

He gritted his teeth. “C’mon, c’mon, c’mon, baby.”

The Jenny howled for all she was worth. She shook beneath him. The stick bucked like a wild thing in his hands, and he strained against it.

A bare thousand feet off the ground, Jael suddenly heaved herself up onto the wing in front of Hitch. She gripped the forward cockpit’s rim and crouched to reach back down for Aurelia.

Hitch hauled on the stick. Every muscle and sinew in his arms felt like it was tearing.

Jael hooked her elbow over the cockpit rim for extra leverage and leaned back, straining to pull Aurelia up. She threw her head back, and her mouth opened in a silent shout.

Hitch’s heart stopped beating altogether. The wind rushed cool against the sweat on his face. His own breaths whistled, echo-like, in his head.

On the wing, Jael had gotten her feet under her. She crouched, one arm still hooked over the cockpit, the other pulling at Aurelia. She moved her mouth. She was talking, trying to calm Aurelia no doubt.

But if Aurelia heard any of it, she was too fear-crazed to listen. Hanging half off the wing, she kicked both legs and flailed with her free arm. She hit Jael, she hit the wing, she hit the fuselage. She was slipping.

“No!” Hitch shouted. What they’d just done in catching her was a miracle. They couldn’t lose her now. “Aurelia, don’t you do this!”

He looked around. Find a relatively flat place to land. Aurelia might break her legs, hanging off the wing like that. But it’d be a sight better than breaking her neck. Ahead, the pale dust of a road blinked faintly in the darkness. That’d do. It’d have to do. He pointed the Jenny in its direction.

As the plane turned, Aurelia’s scream cut through the wind. For the second time, her hand yanked free of Jael’s.

She fell.

Hitch froze.

Aurelia tumbled backwards. Her violet dress spread around her like broken wings. Her white face blinked in the darkness. Her eyes stared straight at him, her mouth open and round.

And then the Jenny sped on past. Darkness engulfed everything.

Aurelia... gone.

For an instant, his mind was a vast empty space that held only those two words.

In front of him, Jael crouched on the wing. The night swallowed her black dress, leaving nothing but the dim outline of her arms and legs and face. She didn’t move.

He looked up. The night sky stretched, punctuated only by icy stars. No
Schturming
. No Walter. A scream of pain and rage built in his chest. But he kept his mouth shut and trapped the power of it deep inside. He couldn’t let it out. If he did, it would tear him apart.

He breathed in, a huge breath, until his lungs felt as if they would burst.

He waited until Jael collapsed back into the forward cockpit.

Then he raised the Jenny’s nose to the sky and climbed. He wouldn’t find the ship. And, even if he did, the chances of Walter remaining safe that long were next to hopeless. By now, the boy would have fallen too.

There would be no going back from this night. But he had to try. He’d fly until the engine choked from lack of fuel. Then he’d land, refuel, and fly again.

God help them all.

Forty-One

THE AIRFIELD BLAZED in the darkness, but not with the warm lights of home. It was closer to looking like the mouth of hell.

The Jenny had been running on fumes for the last couple of miles. Wind howled behind her, a storm coming in fast and hard. Her engine finally cut out right above the field, and Hitch brought her in for a deadstick landing.

His arms felt like they had hundred-pound weights dragging at them. His chest and his abdomen ached, and his feet tingled with the cold. For hours, he’d circled higher and higher—and seen nothing but stars. And half of those were probably from straining his eyes so hard.

The Jenny dropped her tail to the ground and skidded to a stop. For an instant, the buzz in his ears filled his head with a noisy silence. Then that faded out too, leaving only the noise.

People swarmed everywhere. Most of them headed straight for the plane.

He sat and watched.

In the front cockpit, Jael bowed her head into her hand.

While they’d been up in the air, at least there’d been a small kind of hope. Maybe—miraculously—they’d find Walter. Maybe—miraculously—Aurelia would have survived her fall. Maybe it’d all been a dream.

But as always, the dreams had to stay in the sky. On the ground, there were only cold, hard truths.

He exhaled the breath he’d been holding and pried his fingers off the stick.

“Hitch!”

The voice floated through his brain, and he turned woodenly.

Earl fronted the swarming crowd. He ran like a sprinter, his splinted arm banging against his chest with every stride. His ball cap blew off, and in the glare of the bonfires, his eyes looked wild.

“Get that thing back in the air, you idiot!” he shouted. “They’re coming for you!”

The words managed to penetrate Hitch’s brain, but that was about all they did. “What?”

Jael looked up, then stood up. “Hitch—”

Then he saw it too.

Campbell, a bandage around his forehead, stalked at the head of the mob. His face was constricted with rage—and also something else: guilt, and maybe fear. The man was on the hunt for a scapegoat, plain and simple.

Griff paced behind him, eyebrows drawn hard in concern.

The crowd caught up with Earl and engulfed him.

Campbell shoved Earl aside and jammed a finger at Hitch. “Arrest this man!”

“Arrest for what?” Jael demanded.

Hitch swung down stiffly out of the cockpit. “What is this?” If he was going to have to face down Campbell—tonight of all nights—then he was sure going to do it with both feet under him. A few sharp raindrops slashed at his face.

The crowd reached the plane, stopped for a second, then surged all the way around. It was mostly men, and every single one of them seemed to be white-faced and red-eyed. They hollered and shoved. Fists got shaken in his face. Someone grabbed at his sleeve, and he had to shrug away. It looked a whole lot like a lynching mob.

The fading adrenaline kicked in again. The black rage started rising out of his chest, into his throat.

He looked at Griff and fought to keep his voice level. “I’m under arrest for what?”

Griff hesitated, opened his mouth, then shook his head.

Whatever it was, he didn’t look like he entirely agreed with it. That was a good sign. Probably.

“Well?” Hitch said.

Rick pushed forward to stand behind Campbell. Lilla hurried in behind him, biting her lip.

“You think we don’t know what you’ve done?” Rick said. “You were in on this with Zlo from the very beginning! You helped him escape!”

Whatever Hitch had been expecting, that wasn’t it. “Are you kidding me?” The rage climbed a little higher. He spread his hands. “Why would I do that? That’s crazy!”

Jael clambered down from the cockpit. “That is most crazy!” Her face was set like stone, except for a half-dozen red spots flushing her cheeks. She was practically shaking. “Hitch has been fighting against Zlo from beginning!”

“Is that so?” Rick pushed closer, almost nose to nose with her. He only had maybe three inches on her in her bare feet. “Then why does he consort with one of Zlo’s own people!” He spun around to face the crowd and jabbed a finger at Jael. “She’s one of them!” His voice turned shrill. “She’s a spy! She and Hitch have been working together to help Zlo from the very beginning!”

She hurled herself at him. “
Dostatochno
!”

Campbell caught her and clamped both her wrists in one of his hands.

She yelped and whirled on him, her short hair flying into her face. Another second, and she’d start kicking him.

“Jael,” Hitch snapped, low and quiet. “Hold off.” He turned back to Rick. “You really going to do this? Just because your pride couldn’t take the truth?”

Rick lifted his chin and glared. “Who’s the liar now, huh? People died because of
you
. Even your own sister-in-law. Did you know that?”

The last bit of hope choked out of him. He jerked forward a step, then turned to look at Griff instead of Rick. “She’s dead? You found her?”

Griff barely nodded.

“Walter?”

Griff hesitated, then shook his head. “We didn’t find him. We looked all around where we found Aurelia, for miles in every direction.”

“But you can be sure his death’s on your head too,” Rick said.

Lilla grabbed his arm. “Stop it! How can you say that?”

Rick tried to push her aside. “Because it’s the truth. Stay out of what you don’t know anything about.”

“I know what it’s about—and it
isn’t
the truth!”

He glared at her. “Just shut that big, stupid mouth in that big, empty head of yours.”

Her jaw dropped. She narrowed her eyes. “
You.
You insufferable... insufferable
person
!” She turned to face the crowd and stood on her tiptoes. “He’s lying! He’s always lying! Hitch didn’t do anything!”

Campbell growled. “Get her out of here.”

With a scowl, Rick snagged her sleeve and dragged her away.

She started beating on him with both hands. “You want to know how stupid I really am? I was going to marry
you
, that’s how stupid!”

“C’mon.” Campbell looked at Griff. “Get it done. Arrest him.”