Retribution Falls - Chris Wooding [107]
Crake scanned the craft nervously. A crowd of dockworkers had gathered around the Delirium Trigger on the hangar deck, but nobody dared cross the gangplank. They’d heard men talking about a monster aboard. Now they followed the activity of the newcomers with keen interest, assuming them to be crew.
Crake didn’t even see who shot at them. Pinn threw himself back, spitting a foul oath, as the bullet hit the winch next to his head. They scrambled out of the way, searching for their assailant, but there was no sign of one. Crake tripped and sprawled as another rifle shot sounded. Fear flooded him. He couldn’t take shelter if he didn’t know which direction the attack was coming from.
That didn’t bother Malvery overmuch. “Get to cover!” he yelled, rushing toward an artillery battery, a cluster of massive cannons.
Crake scrambled after him. Another bullet hit. Out of the corner of his eye, Crake saw the dockworkers shouting in consternation. They were unsure who the villain was here. Some were following Crake’s plight, but others were looking at a spot above and behind him.
He looked over his shoulder. There, where the deck of the Delirium Trigger rose up toward an electroheliograph mast, he saw movement. A man, crouching, aiming.
Then Crake was behind the cannons, hunkering down next to Pinn and Malvery. “He’s up there!” he panted. “By the mast!”
Malvery swore under his breath. “We need to get off this bloody aircraft, sharpish. Before them down below work out what’s going on.”
There was a sudden whine of strained metal from the winch. The chain swung sharply one way, then another, pulled from below.
Malvery edged along the barrel of the cannon and peered out for an instant, then drew back. “I see the bastard.” He drew a pistol from his belt. It looked tiny in his huge hand. His usual shotgun had been too large to smuggle beneath their clothes.
“Wait,” said Crake. “Not yet.”
The chain pulled restlessly back and forth. The mechanism shrieked in protest at the weight it was carrying. The weight of the golem, clambering up the length of the chain and out of the cargo hold.
An enormous hand grabbed on to the lip of the hatch. Bess pulled herself up with a low bass groan, hauling her enormous bulk onto the deck.
“Now!” said Crake. Malvery swung out of hiding, aimed his pistol, and fired at the crewman hiding near the mast. The crewman, amazed by the sight of Bess, was taken by surprise. The shot missed by inches, but it startled him enough to send him scrambling out of sight.
The dockworkers on the hangar deck were panicking now, beginning to flee as Bess drew herself up to her full height. They’d never seen anything like her, this humpbacked, faceless armored giant. Those who were nearest fought to get out of the way, pushing aside the men at the back, who were crowding closer to see what the fuss was about.
“Bess!” Crake called as they broke from hiding. The golem swung toward him with a welcoming gurgle. He hurried up to her and quickly patted her on the shoulder. “We’re getting out of here.”
The dockworkers’ fear of Bess grew to encompass Crake and the others now: they were friends with the beast!
Malvery sent another blast toward the electroheliograph tower as they ran for the gangplank. There were shouts of alarm from behind them as crewmen were roused by the gunfire. Bullets nipped at their heels. Pinn sent a few back, shooting wild.
Bess thundered down the gangplank and onto the hangar deck, the others close behind. The dockworkers melted away from the Delirium Trigger like ice before a blowtorch, spreading chaos through the hangar as they fled. All activity came to a halt as crewmen on nearby freighters sensed the disturbance.
Malvery took the lead, heading toward the stairs that would take them to ground level, where they could exit the hangar. But he’d barely started in that direction when whistles sounded from below: the Ducal