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39 - Big Damn Chicken

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Theo

From my position on the deck of the Welkin I could see Oz had reached the gate, then Elpida as well. Together, they slammed it shut and barred it. The sounds of slaughter echoed over the palisade as the terror birds tore into those trapped outside. I could only hope Suni wasn’t one of them. And where had Senesio disappeared to? But there wasn’t time to wonder.

“Gate’s closed!” I reported, then turned back to my makeshift crew and their grounded skyship. “Sergeant, you’ll forgive me but you’re in no state to lead this fight. Not with those wounds.”

He looked down at his arm, at the sickly pallor of his flesh, at the blood seeping through the bandage. For a moment, I was sure he would argue, would hold on to his command with all the strength he had left, but then he nodded. Pride swelled in my chest as I took one shaky breath.

He raised his eyes back to me. “I’ve trained you for this. You’re ready. Lead on.”

A smile was all I had time for. I’d thank him later. Now was the time for action. This was my battle to fight. And win.

“The birds are locked out. Now we strike back!” I set my eyes on the Needlethroat. It’d stopped its approach and spun to face the chaos happening outside. The reduced crew still aboard were manning the ballistae, taking aim at the terror birds. It was trying to support its ground troops, but all it had done was make itself a fine target, turned broadside to us as it was. It was a sleek, slim thing, all told. I didn’t recognize its hull shape—experimental, maybe—but that didn’t matter. All that mattered was that it was our turn to fight back.

“Ballista ready!” Gabar shouted from behind the massive weapon he and Maritza were manning.

“Ballista ready!” Demetrias also shouted, but as I looked over, I saw the engineer had forgotten to crank the action on the weapon. The javelin was jutting from the front of the ballista completely unready to fire. Demetrias was a brilliant engineer, but he wasn’t a soldier. He hadn’t been trained to use a ballista. But we needed every able person we had.

“You need to work the crank,” I shouted, then pointed at Maritza. “Help him. Gabar can manage on his own.”

The veteran helmswoman broke into action, sprinting to Demetrias’ ballista and readying it to fire. As she did, I took up position behind my own ballista.

“Ready to fire,” Gabar said, impatience in his voice. He was itching for the fight.

“Hold!” I shouted. “We fire as one.” As soon as we did, the Needlethroat would pay attention to us; start firing back. We needed to maximize the damage of our opening volley.

I slid a javelin into place, careful to make sure the attached powder bag was seated correctly, then cranked. The gears clicked and groaned, adding tension to the weapon with each moment. The javelin eased further and further back until finally, with a heavy click, everything was set. Normally there’d be a second crewman to help me, ready with flint and steel, but Kyriakos was the only other one aboard and he was far from being in any condition to help.

I caught the flint and steel from where it’d been hanging, attached to the weapon by a string, and prepared to strike.

A second heavy click from the side reported Maritza and Demetrias had finished cranking their ballista.

“Light fuses!” I shouted the order and struck flint to steel. Sparks flew and, miraculously, bit into the fuse immediately. It began to smoke and hiss, burning toward the explosive powder bag.

Little flames leapt up on Gabar’s ballista, then Maritza’s and Demetrias’ as well.

“Take aim!” I shouted, turning my weapon’s sights toward the exposed hull of the Needlethroat.

It was time.

“Fire!”

I pulled the lever and the ballista jerked sharply. The javelin-charge launched forward, arching through the air and embedding itself into the side of the Needlethroat’s hull, just above a rear engine.

“Ha! A fine shot!” Kyriakos shouted from behind.

Demetrias’ shot missed, but Gabar’s found its mark, crashing through the ship’s railing and plunging into the deck. The crew had just enough time to turn to see what had happened before the powder bags went off.

The first explosion tore through the hull, a plume of flame enveloping the engine there. The second explosion ripped the deck apart, spraying boards and splinters into the air and tossing a crewman overboard. He tumbled, end over end, then disappeared with a splash into the Evergrass.

The Needlethroat tipped to the side, the engine I’d hit apparently having trouble. Crewmen stumbled to catch their balance, shouted orders, and generally broke into a panic as the deck became unstable. They didn’t even know where they were being hit from yet. It was a beautiful thing, seeing them get what they deserved, but I wasn’t done yet.

“Fire at will!” I commanded, then loaded another javelin and began cranking.

Gabar worked quickly on his own and as I was reaching for the flint and steel again, he fired another shot, then cheered. I glanced up to find he’d hit his mark, right below my previous shot. Right below the already damaged engine.

The resulting explosion slammed into it, caving the metal inward and near ripping the entire thing from the hull. If the Needlethroat had been tilting before, it near tipped entirely over now, the deck heaving, throwing two more crew to the waters below. The ship only had three engines to begin with, so there wasn’t the usual built-in redundancy.

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The Needlethroat dipped, struggling to hold its own weight as it fell toward the ground in jerks and starts.

“That’s for the Stormcrow!” Maritza shouted, pumping her fists and hurling curses.

The engines spluttered and the Needlethroat dropped further.

Right to the ground, come on, come on, I thought, urging gravity to do its work.

“She’s done for!” Kyriakos cheered, but then the engines roared and the ship held steady. The tallest stalks of sawgrass were just tickling its hull, but it looked to have stabilized. Engineers were leaning over the rails, tools in hand as they tweaked the two still-functioning engines. They’d managed to compensate for the loss of the other, it seemed. Nonetheless, the ship was still tilted sharply, with crew spilled across the deck and holding tight to anything nailed down.

“Let’s finish this,” I said, then struck flint to steel, lighting the fuse, and took aim. I fired.

“No!” The ship had turned as it’d fallen so that the javelin didn’t stick in the hull, but hit and glanced off. It spun away into the Evergrass, then exploded in a shower of water and weeds.

“Don’t let them escape!” I shouted, but even as I did, the Needlethroat was gaining altitude, limping up and away, then turning toward the south.

Maritza and Demetrias landed a shot next, sending another plume of fire across the skyship’s deck. It didn’t hit an engine, though, so the cursed thing kept flying.

Gabar fired again, aiming high to catch the fleeing ship. The shot arced what looked to be the right amount, but still fell short of its target.

“They’re out of range,” he growled.

“They’re retreating,” I said, watching the ship’s movements.

“Left their friends behind, though,” Gabar said, turning his eyes toward the stakewall where the sounds of slaughter had slowed somewhat. “Take aim. We can arc shots down at them.”

“No,” I said, swallowing my own desire for revenge. “We can’t risk damaging the stakewall and letting the terror birds back in.” My eyes flicked back to the gate, checking that it was still locked securely. It was, but something caught my eye. A flurry of movement that darted out of my peripherals. I turned to follow it, swinging my ballista around.

Had that been... ? No, Suni had lured all nine of them outside.

“Sergeant, watch out!”

The terror bird launched into the air and grabbed Kyriakos by the shoulders. He was pulled backward, over the Welkin’s rail and out of sight. He reappeared a moment later, limping away from the ship. He was weak from his injuries, though. He didn’t stand a chance.

“Get down!” I shouted and took aim with my ballista. The terror bird tackled the sergeant and the two went down in a tumble of feathers and flailing limbs. And then there was blood, Kyriakos’ blood, as the bird’s talons and beak set to work on his hips and stomach.

He screamed, punching ineffectually at the beast as it tore into him.

“No, no, no!” I aimed at the bird, but couldn’t fire. The explosion would kill the sergeant too.

He’d a dagger in hand then, was stabbing the bird. It squawked and reared up, then clamped its beak down on his forearm. The sergeant bellowed and the dagger fell to the side as the bones in his wrist were crushed with a sickening crunch.

The bird pulled hard and his arm near came out of its socket, popping to the side and bending his torso unnaturally.

Even from a dozen paces away, I could see the veins rising in Kyriakos’ throat as he screamed, eyes wide as the bird ripped with beak and talon. His stomach was in shreds, blood and guts spilling out, and still the bird bit deeper.

A blow from one wing knocked the sergeant’s head to the ground. It slammed down hard, rolled to the side, then focused on me. Our eyes met. Mine wide, pained. His closing, bleary. He looked at me, looked at the ballista, then nodded.

“No!” My mind reeled at the thought. I can’t. I... can’t. But every moment wasted was another moment the sergeant suffered. His wounds were already mortal. All I could do now... the thought killed me inside. All I could do now was spare him more pain.

I swallowed hard.

Pulled the lever.

The javelin punched through the bird and pinned it to the ground. Still, it fought and kicked, scraping at any piece of the sergeant it could reach. His head rolled to the side, staring into the eyes of the thing.

“Big damn... chicken... ” he managed, and the powder bag detonated.

I wanted to cry. Wanted to scream. Wanted to... I didn’t even know. This wasn’t supposed to happen. None of this was supposed to happen.

But it wasn’t over yet. Others were still relying on me.

“Theo!”

Elpida was still at the gate, but she’d turned, was waving me over with an urgency in her actions.

I pulled my mind from the sergeant and focused on the present. On what had to be done right now.

I leapt from the Welkin, hit the ground at a run, and made it to Elpida in a matter of moments.

“Suni’s still out there,” Elpida growled as I arrived.

Through a slit in the gate I could see utter chaos outside.

The soldiers were in a full rout, terror birds picking them off as they tried to flee. The sawgrass was splattered with blood in several areas already, and the water lapping at the shore was distinctly red.

Suni was out there somewhere. Had sacrificed herself, leading the birds from the outpost.

“Let me in!” Someone slammed into the gate, shaking it with the force of their full weight as they pulled on the door. “Ancestors above, let me in! Please!”

Suni! My heart leapt.

But, no. It wasn’t her. It was one of the soldiers. I held firmly in place, making no move to open the gate.

“Please!” the soldier shouted, pulling on the handle. But his was a death I wouldn’t regret. His death would be justice.

Elpida flung the latch and opened the gate. The man rushed inside, hurrying such that he tripped over his own feet and fell to the ground.

“What’re you doing?” I spat, spinning on Elpida.

“Wait for me!”

Having seen the opening, a second man was sprinting toward them now, drawing the birds toward the open gate. Elpida closed it in his face.

“No! No, please! Have mercy!” He slammed into the unyielding wood, banging with his fists and pleading. His eyes were wide and wild, panicked, terrified.

“We only need one prisoner for information,” Elpida said. The man’s cries lasted a moment longer, until something heavy slammed into the other side of the gate. His pleading turned to screaming, and I frowned as even that gave way to the sounds of ripping flesh and frenzied growling, the gate shaking all the while.

“Stay down,” Elpida grunted, planting a boot on the prisoner’s chest and touching the tip of her sword to his throat.

“Yes ma’am.” He swallowed hard.

“Suni’s still out there,” I said, turning back to the gate and reaching for the latch. “I’m going to find her.”

“Don’t,” Elpida said.

“I’m not losing anyone else. This group is my responsibility now. No one else is going to die—”

Elpida clapped a hand down on my shoulder, then nodded toward the center of the outpost.

Senesio emerged from the spring, slipping through the sand, dripping wet and cursing. Suni was a step behind him, hair all soaked and running into her face. Her arms were covered with a thousand tiny cuts and mud was plastered across her chest and face.

If my breath hadn’t been caught so tight in my throat, I would have let out a sigh of relief. And then I noticed.

Suni was wearing a smile.

Wide and big, it was plastered across her face.

She shook the water from her head, wiped mud from her face, and let out a long breath.

“Well,” she said. “That was invigorating.”