Retribution Falls - Chris Wooding [138]
Damn it, he was getting to like these people. And the thought of that frightened him a little. Because if his crew got hanged, it would be on his account. His fault. He’d gotten them all into this, by taking Quail’s too-good-to-be-true offer of fifty thousand ducats. He’d made that desperate gamble, closed his eyes, and hoped for a winning card, but he’d drawn the Ace of Skulls instead.
Jez, Crake, Malvery, Silo … even Harkins and Pinn. They weren’t just badly paid employees anymore. Their lives had come to rest on his decisions. He didn’t know if he could bear the weight of that. But he did know that he had no choice about it.
“No mines nearby,” Crake reported.
“I think we’re through, Cap’n,” Jez said, slumping back in her seat. “You can start your ascent anytime now.”
“Well,” Frey said. “That was Rook’s Boneyard. I hope you all enjoyed your tour.”
They managed weak smiles at that. He cut the thrusters and fed aerium gas into the ballast tanks, allowing the Ketty Jay to rise steadily. The fog thinned, and the mountainsides faded into view.
“Never thought I’d miss daylight quite so badly,” Frey said. “It better be sunny up there.”
There was no danger of sun, this deep in the Hookhollows, with the clouds and drifting ash high in the sky overhead. But the mist oppressed him. He wanted to be able to see again.
The Ketty Jay rose out of the white haze, and the sky exploded all around them. The concussion threw the Ketty Jay sideways and sent the crew flying from their seats onto the floor. Frey scrambled back into his seat, half blinded by the flash of light, thinking only of escape. Get out of here, get out of here, get—
But the blast had spun the Ketty Jay around, and now he could see their assailant through the windglass of the cockpit. Her black prow loomed before them, a massive battery of guns trained on his small craft.
The Delirium Trigger.
Frey slumped forward onto the dashboard. The first shot had been a warning. Her outfliers had surrounded them, waiting for the slightest hint that they were going to run. But Frey wasn’t going to run. It was hopeless. They’d be blown to pieces before he had time to fire up the thrusters.
Not like this. I was so damn close.
The Delirium Trigger’s electroheliograph mast was blinking.
Jez, who had staggered to her feet and was standing behind the pilot’s chair, narrowed her eyes as she watched it.
“What’s it say?” Frey asked.
“Gotcha!” Jez replied.
Frey groaned. “Bollocks.”
Chapter Thirty-one
ONE IS MISSING—FREY IS PUT TO THE QUESTION—GOOD NIGHT, BESS
knew I should have gotten out when I had the chance, Crake thought, as the men of the Delirium Trigger flooded up the Ketty Jay’s cargo ramp. Six of them covered the prisoners while the others dispersed through the hold, checking corners, moving with military precision. Wary eyes flickered over Bess, who was standing quietly to one side.
“You tell that thing, if it moves, you all get shot,” snarled one of the gunmen.
“She won’t,” said Crake, the words coming out small. “I put her to sleep.”
He’d been forced to. He couldn’t trust that Bess would behave when their lives were under threat.
The gunman jabbed Crake with the muzzle of his revolver. Bess didn’t react. “She’d better not. Or you’re the first to go.”
The crew of the Ketty Jay stood at the top of the ramp, offering no resistance. All except Jez, anyway. Where Jez was, only the captain knew. Crake had seen her speaking urgently with Frey as they were being escorted out of the mountains. Later, after they were instructed to land in the vast wastes of the Blackendraft, she was gone. When Malvery inquired as to her whereabouts, Frey said, “She’s got a plan.”
“Oh,” said Malvery. “What kind of plan?”
“The kind that won’t work.”
Malvery harrumphed. “No harm in trying, I suppose.”
“That’s what I thought.”
They were patted down. None of them was carrying weapons, but Crake’s heart