The Black Lung Captain - Chris Wooding [188]
They weren’t going to let up on him. He could dodge about as much as he liked. They’d be waiting when he got tired. Harkins felt the sick panic that came with the certainty that he was going to die.
You should’ve run when you had the chance.
“Shit!” he screamed, pounding the dash with his fist. “Shit! Shit! Shit!”
Machine guns sounded in a rattle. Harkins closed his eyes.
Sorry, Jez.
An explosion from behind him. His eyes flew open, and he twisted around in his seat.
Behind him, one of the Blackhawks was spinning toward the city below, minus a wing. The other two moved to dodge the barrage of bullets slicing up at them from below, but they were too late. The bullets smashed into the flank of the second Blackhawk and sent it spiraling sideways. It crashed into its companion, which was still in close formation. The two of them tangled in a squealing collision and exploded.
“Waaa-hooo!” cried a familiar voice in Harkins’s ear.
“Pinn?” he said in disbelief.
The Skylance came spinning through the cloud of smoke left by the destroyed Blackhawks.
“The one and only!” Pinn said. “Here to save your sorry arse again!”
PINN CACKLED. DAMN, IT was good to be alive! And there was nothing that made him feel quite so alive as murdering some dumb bastard who couldn’t fly his aircraft as well as he could.
He glanced at the ferrotype hanging from his dash. A new face was in the frame where Lisinda’s had once been. A face infinitely more beautiful to Pinn’s eyes. Those red curls. That expanse of white bosom. The adorable way her front teeth overlapped.
Emanda.
He’d already forgotten what his previous sweetheart looked like. She’d faded from his memory without a picture to remind him. Well, who cared anyway? Let her be with her new man. She’d regret it one day, when Pinn was a hero and word of his exploits spread far and wide. She’d weep into her pillow when she saw the ferrotypes of him in the broadsheets, with Emanda on his arm. Someone better, prettier, more witty and charming than she was. Someone more perfect in every way.
The face in the frame brought the memories flooding back. Wonderful days in Kingspire, a heady haze of booze, cards, and bedplay. He’d borrowed some of her money and turned it into ten times the amount. Just having Emanda by his side put him on a winning streak. And she never left his side, except when she was on top of him, or under him, or in any other position they could think of. Damn, that woman had an appetite! And Pinn liked a woman with appetite.
How had he ever thought he wanted to be with Lisinda? She was a small-town girl with a small-town way of thinking. He’d dreamed of returning as a hero, but could he ever have settled into the dull, homely life she promised? No! What a lucky escape he’d had! The kind of life that Emanda offered, that was a life fit for a hero. That was the kind of woman he needed. A woman who could match him drink for drink and who’d lead him to bed afterward.
After a few days of blissful, overwhelming happiness, the fateful moment came. They’d been lying together in bed, drunk, and she’d thought he was asleep. She’d leaned over and slurred quietly in his ear.
“You know, Artis Pinn, I think I’m falling in love with you.”
That was when he knew she was the one. The only one he’d ever love. His heart thrilled at the realization. He pretended to be asleep until he heard her begin to snore. Then he slipped out of bed, picked up a pen, and scribbled a note.
He couldn’t remember the exact words he’d used. He was barely sober enough to hold the pen. But he knew his lover would understand, the way she understood everything about him. He had to go, the note said, but he promised he’d be back. When he was rich. When he was a hero. When he was worthy to be with a woman like her.
And with that, he slipped away. He fueled up his Skylance with the money he’d made, and he asked about until he found the town of Endurance. He got there just in time to see a flotilla of Navy frigates departing at speed. Going by past experience, he reckoned it’d be more