An Airship Named Desire (Take to the Skies Book 1) (10 page)

Before the official took a shot, bullets splintered the air from the slavers huddled around the caravan tents. The threat of gunfire commanded immediate attention from the authorities. In turn, the slavers turned their focus onto the officials.

A sudden weight tugged my wrist, and my body jerked backwards. My legs carried me several steps further before the weight whipped me around. The girl collapsed onto the ground. Blood trickled from above her ankle, and a busted round lay next to her on the dirt. Panicked, she let go of my hand. Jensen stopped up ahead but didn’t come over to help.

Several feet past the authorities, we stood under open firing range. We had to move. I grabbed her wrists and pulled her over my back since she weighed little more than a midsized dog. Shifting my mass, I planted my feet against the ground to lift us up. Her ankle needed a compress, but we didn’t have time to make one. The bullet had ripped in past skin, yet her foot didn’t dangle the way a snapped tendon would. My pace dragged with the weight of another person, so I clenched my jaw and summoned any remaining strength to carry us past the ring of officials.

Once I caught up with Jensen, we both continued racing down the pathway away from the clearing. Gunfire seared the air behind us, but our fast pace carried us out of range. The girl’s breaths puffed against my ear in short bursts, and strands of her dark hair brushed by my neck. Her muscles tensed when I stumbled or bounded over stray rocks, and wetness splashed onto my calf. Her blood trickled out fast. Bullet wounds were nothing to mess around with, and we needed to dress her ankle soon.

After the first shot, people clustered around the streets in throngs. More and more came to watch the officials battle the slavers below. I pushed my way past a huddle of women who gossiped in loud voices about what could have started this all. Several children armed with sticks hovered along the sides of the street, eager for their chance to rush into a fight. In the distance a cry sounded out from the caravans and continued gunfire.

We passed a merchant who packed away his assortment of used cutlery and tin mugs as he called in an early day. The streets swelled with an increasing number of people drawn by shouts and children’s cries. Passersby jostled into stands, knocking over apples or ripe bunches of spinach from displays, so most of the merchants followed suit with closing up shop.

Jensen took the lead and muscled through the crowd since I struggled to maneuver with the girl on my back. The sight of her bloody ankle sent a round of sharp whispers from the few who noticed it but not many did amidst the chaos. Her fingers dug into my shoulder and relaxed. The girl’s body sagged, and she began careening backwards.

“Jensen!” My voice came out a sharp bark when I tried to get his attention. “She passed out.”

He hefted her onto his shoulder as if she weighed no more than a sack of rice, and her feet dangled against his back. Relieved of my burden, I moved faster. Jensen kept up regardless since he had the strength of a steam-powered engine.  

We hurtled through the street until we reached the turn for the docking bay. The girl bounced around against Jensen’s chest, and strands of her hair waved with his steps. My breaths shortened, and our fast pace twisted my chest. I chanced a glance behind. We exited a street now swarming with people. Merchants hustled out of the way tugging half-rolled canopies and overflowing boxes of merchandise with them while their boxy stands stood unmanned. Shouts and gunshots cut through the murmur of voices since the little town wasn’t prepared for this much action.

Smoke filtered into the air, and a squadron of officials arrived as backup. They cut in through the teeming crowd and shouted for people to move out of their way. Several children dove out, but the parents got shoved back. One of the officials fired his pistol straight skyward, eliciting screams from the crowds around them. 

“I think we did a grand thing back there,” I panted beside Jensen. “Took out some bad guys, livened up the place. Thank the Gods they didn’t get our names ‘cause they won’t forget this little soiree for awhile.” Jensen grunted in reply.

We followed the boardwalk until the town lay out of sight and airships loomed ahead. Desire’s sleek form stuck out as stylish amidst the bloated monstrosities. The rope ladder still dangled over the side from earlier since docking bays were well regulated and safe enough. Besides, anyone attempting to board would be spotted from far away, like us.

Jensen gripped the slats first and started his one-armed climb. The girl’s body bobbed around as he maneuvered up the ladder, and I followed suit, ascending with the ease of a fatigued marathoner. Jensen swung his legs over the ledge and landed on deck. I did the same moments later. With little care or precision, he dumped the girl’s body on the deck and stalked away. I scrambled over to her while tugging open my leather pouch. My bandages were tucked inside, so I focused on straightening her body out.

Blood from her calf soaked into her torn shoes. The flesh had been sliced open above the tendon but not severed. I sent a blessing to the Gods, doused the wound with disinfectant, and fastened bandage around her ankle. Edwin could fix the rest later. Footsteps clattered across deck, followed by a shadow looming over me. Captain Morris stood before me with his arms crossed over his chest and one eyebrow arched high on his forehead.

“So,” his deep voice sounded, “I take it you stayed out of trouble.”

Chapter Nine

“Unavoidable, sir.” I saluted.

Morris crouched beside me. “That’s not what Jensen tells me. All this over a random girl?”

“Unavoidable,” I repeated and lifted her bruised arms. “She can’t be older than seventeen.”

Amidst the chaos I never caught a decent view of the girl. Under the direct sun, her skin paled to light goldenrod, accented by long thick black hair that trailed past her waist. Bruises lined her arms like a camo covering, and the right side of her lower lip swelled. Rips and streaks of dirt covered the lengths of her dirty brown overalls, and she wore a loose shirt that turned off-white from dust and grass stains. The poor thing still trembled even while fainted. When I met the Captain’s gaze, he dropped his argument. I didn’t need to explain my motivations to him. He remembered how he found me all those years ago.

“Here.” The captain slid his arms under her neck and behind her knees. “Why don’t we take her to Edwin? He’ll patch her up, and we can discuss the meeting place there.” He rose with the girl in his arms and trudged over towards the hatch. I placed a hand on his shoulder, leaning in.

“Thank you,” I whispered, and a wave of relief cascaded over me. My Captain always understood. His smile crinkled the scars lining his face.

“Bea, you’ve always been headstrong, but I can’t fault someone whose heart’s in the right place. I’ve seen too many horrors in this world to ignore more.”

“Me too.” A dark memory surged, and I suppressed a shudder.

“So damn young,” he continued as we walked into the shade under the deck. “Do you know who she is? Why they did this to her?”

“Slavers.” The word suspended in the air like a blackened storm cloud. The captain grunted, and we entered the infirmary. Isabella must have wandered away hours ago, but Edwin still sat at his table. He stood from his seat when we walked in and furrowed his brows.

“Who?” he asked.

“Someone who needs your care.” Morris placed the girl on an empty bed. Her head rolled to the side, and her arms dangled over the edge. Edwin glanced to her swathed ankle before scurrying into his lab. Already blood seeped through my impromptu bandage job.

Jensen stepped into view, gripping the top of the doorframe. “Captain, are we discussing the exchange site?”

Morris nodded and took a seat at the nearest table. I grabbed a chair to join him. Jensen entered with his arms swinging side to side, but rather than taking a seat, he leaned against the wall. Edwin emerged from his lab carrying a giant bottle of antiseptic, bandages, and his container of smelling salts. He pulled up a stool by her ankle and started his work.

“So tell me your thoughts. Does the arrangement seem clean? Anything out of place?” Captain Morris asked. Edwin’s percolator simmered with freshly brewed coffee, casting the scent of roasted beans to cut through the room’s ammonia coating.  

“It appears pretty stable.” I rested my elbows on the table. “We’re going to do the trade in a private warehouse.”

“What about the inside? Any cargo?” he asked.

“Only Jensen’s pretty pink parasols.” I smirked. “Nothing flammable, no explosives, and no weapons.”

“One door for the exit and entrance. Besides the aluminum folding screen, it’s the only way out,” Jensen added. “We’ll have to put someone up on the roof to cover the blind spot.”

A splutter interrupted us as Edwin lifted the container of smelling salts to her nose. The young girl’s eyes blinked open, and she pushed herself upright on the bed. I strode over to crouch beside her.

“I’m the First Mate, Beatrice—what’s your name?” I asked. The chair behind me creaked, and Captain Morris joined me. Jensen’s footsteps echoed down the hall. I made a mental reminder to give him hell later for being such an ass. 

“Adelle,” her quiet voice crept above a quavering whisper like a child’s. 

“Where are you from?” I asked gently, “What were you doing with that man?”

“Took me.” Her gaze dodged towards me, but then she fixed her eyes on the wall. I didn’t press her for more because sometimes more hurt too much to voice.

“Well you’re aboard the airship Desire now. That man won’t hurt you again.”

Captain Morris bent over next to us and placed a hand on her shoulder. “Do you have a place to go?” his voice was gruff and menacing, but I knew what came next. She shook her head ‘no’ and bit her lip. “How are you with cleaning up? Can you follow orders well?” Her eyes still didn’t register what he offered, so Morris continued, “What I’m saying is if you don’t mind some hard work, we can give you a place here on board.”

Her eyes widened with surprise, and she sat up a little straighter as she clutched the sheets tight. “I-I’ll do whatever work you need me to.” Adelle’s voice shook, and the tears slipped down her cheeks. Captain pulled out his pocket watch and glanced at the time. I fiddled with the blue cameo around my neck since neither of us knew how to handle her crying. 

“None of those tears.” Captain Morris tugged at his aviator cap. “You’ll need to be tough on this ship.” She nodded and sucked in a deep breath. He gave her a nod before stalking off. I handed her a handkerchief and waited for her emotional display to be over.

“So what do you know about cooking?” I joked to break the tension. She wiped her tears away with the edges of the oversized shirt she wore and choked back her remaining sniffles.

“Some. I’ve been told I can cook. Point me to a kitchen, and I’ll make a meal.” Her dark brown eyes shone, but they were tinged with the wary caution of a cynic. For one so young, her gaze aged her years. Edwin rose from attending to her ankle.

“Well, you won’t be doing anything until that wound heals up. If you aggravate it you could cause some permanent damage. It might affect the way you walk and cause a slight postural imbalance.”

“And he claims another victim.” I cracked a grin. “Edwin you’re turning this infirmary into a speakeasy.”

“You always bring me the clientele.” He packed away his smelling salts and antiseptic, carrying them over to his room while whistling a bright little tune along the way. Such an odd man.

I turned toward Adelle. “Will you be okay in here for now?”

She nodded and glanced down at her lap. Her words came out in such a hushed whisper I almost didn’t hear them, but a faint ‘thank you’ broke through the silence of the room. A smile tugged the corners of my lips, and I strode out. Captain Morris stood waiting by the door.

“Not much for tears, are you sir?” We walked along the corridor towards his room, and I ran my fingers along the wood grained walls. Up ahead, the porthole glinted under the electric candlelight, the one Jensen, the captain, and I found three years ago.

“Never did deal with them well. Not hers or yours.” He passed me a knowing glance. His trench made a rustling sound against the hardwood as we strode along, the noise interspersed by the clomp of our boots.

“I never cried.” I placed my hands on my hips, unable to stave away the wry twist of nostalgia. “You must be mistaking me with some other young girl.”

“And you must have a selective memory.” He laughed. We stood before his door, and he turned the knob. “Seeing that girl must’ve hit you where it hurts.” Walking over to his desk, he took a seat in his massive leather chair.

I pulled up another one and joined him. “It’s the one thing I still can’t abide. I’ll never let myself be put in that position again, but when someone else is, I flip the furnace.”

“Wounds like that don’t fade, ever. You carry them with you for the rest of your life, but the best you can do is fight against those evils. I understand why you did it.” Morris’s voice emanated warmth from that bottomless well of his because he had plenty to spare.

I took a deep breath before I continued. “Thank you for giving her a place on ship.”

“We could use the extra hands. I won’t turn down people in a rough place.” He couldn’t help the hint of a smile that breached his grizzled features. The old man had given a home to this ragtag group of vagabonds in the first place. 

“I know you won’t.”

“Plus,” he said as he leaned back into his seat, “I thought I heard mention of cooking? I can’t tell you how amazing it would be if we had an actual cook aboard the ship, one that didn’t make boiled potatoes and overcooked meat. Edwin’s tastes like rubber, and whenever we try rotations our meals alternate between burned lumps or gruel.” I nodded in agreement.

He reached into his drawer and placed the box onto the table. It sat and mocked us for all our trouble on this job. The brass keyhole and geared mechanism shone under the lamplight, and faint, near indistinguishable engravings imprinted on the metal lining the sides. I peered closer before picking up the box.

“Did you notice these before?” I squinted, but the faint etchings weren’t any clearer.

Captain Morris shrugged. “Not my issue. Come tomorrow morning that thing is another man’s burden. I don’t like that we’ve been forced to take jobs this risky, and I also don’t like the amount of attention that box has garnered. British military? I know how brutal and persistent they can be. The sooner we give that cargo away, the better.” His face darkened at the statement, and his scars deepened under the shadows. Memories from the war evoked a distance in his eyes.

“That had to be rough, I mean, since most of Europe lost to the red coats.”

He tapped his fingers against the desktop. “You must have been only a couple years old back in the thirties. The land by the Rhine in old Germany? Breathtaking. But what’s left barely counts as a country because the Brits stole more than their share.” The tapping stopped, and he stared at the wall in the grips of a faraway time and place.

I rubbed at one of the etchings, trying to make it out. “Hard to believe this payoff will keep us free and clear for the next couple months. It’s been small job after small job for the past year or two.”

He passed me a faint smile, knowing full well I switched the conversation for his sake. “We need the money too. We’ll barely have enough to fill up, repair, and leave port without it. Hopes and dreams don’t cover costs for the Desire. Running an airship turns into some serious work when you’re not a private entrepreneur.”

“None of us mind the jobs.” I shrugged. “If we sat aboard day in and out many of us would turn into harpies. Adventure is a feast for the soul.”

“I think you’re confusing adventure with absolute utter danger.”  He pulled out a cigar and lit it. “Only those with a special kind of crazy enjoy the jobs we go on.” I nudged the box with my finger, feeling the coolness of the metal edges and gears. 

“You know the main reason I’m first mate is because no one else skated the edge enough. Plus, I scare you.” I passed him a grin.

“You might be the craziest on board, second to Edwin, but you’re the first mate because of the stunt you pulled today.” His gray eyes met mine. “I protect this crew like family, because they are. My first mate needs a heart in the right direction, and not everyone has that. You have the gumption to act on those crazy impulses, but you watch out for the weak and the abused. We may skate the law, but I don’t run a crew of brigands and floozies. We’re here to defend each other, and you understand that better than most.”

I lost my words, and a content embarrassment stained my cheeks. “Still clinging to that military mantra, aren’t you?” I teased.

He shrugged. “We may have lost, but I took ‘no man left behind’ to heart. Back then, we didn’t play around with people’s lives. When you’ve seen battle, seen real war, you realize how much life is wasted. I never took anyone for granted again. You could be talking to them in the barracks one day, and the next they’d be lying dead in a ditch.”

“Why Captain, are you being sentimental? Am I on the right ship?” I punched him in the arm but met his eyes with a serious gaze. Even though we played light, I understood how deeply the war had impacted him. Trauma lingered and shaped survivors like us rather than vanishing. I stood from my seat. “Well Captain, I’ll bid you farewell. It’s been a long day, and we’ll have an early rise to make the exchange tomorrow morning.” As he picked up the box, the dim light gleamed across the corners.

“Who said you’re coming?”

“I’d like to see you try and stop me.” I placed a hand on my hip. “Tomorrow morning, I’ll trade out Matilda for a sniper rifle and take the high ground. Someone needs to watch your back.”

“Good. We wouldn’t want you running your mouth and ruining our trade.” The deep scar on his mouth crinkled with his smirk.

“Why dear sir, I can’t believe you’d think such things of me.” I placed a hand over my mouth, feigning mock horror. “I’ll have you know, I’ve been called the epitome of a lady.”

“Get out of here, scamp. Leave this old man in peace.” He shooed me away. I smiled and waltzed out of the room. 

Although below deck had no windows, after spending so much time aboard the ship I knew the sun had set. I could just tell. The lamplight flickered through the empty corridor like a lone landing strip. Shadows stained Desire’s wooden hull a cherry red, hollowing out the hall like a rind. My stomach flopped with anticipation for the trade tomorrow because of how much hinged on this exchange: our food, our fuel, and our lives. After our run of foul luck, we needed a win.

The whispered complaints aboard ship proved enough because even the most loyal people like Geoff started questioning the captain’s motives. None of them realized the pinch we were in though, because it was a Captain’s job to not let them know.