Cog and Sail quickly ran to their dorm, hand-in-hand. In order to keep pace, Cog had to take her heels off.

"Okay, so there are a couple of things I need to do," she said, still shaking from her traumatic experience. She opened the light switch in the bathroom and pulled out her purple switchblade. It was cold and heavy, but it fit snugly in her hand. "Hopefully, I won't need this, but we've got it just in case. Help me get the money from that drawer."

The money was somehow bulkier in their pockets than the blade was, but they both figured it was a good idea, just in case. Worst-case scenario, they wouldn't need it. "Do you have anything you think we could use, Sail?"

"Other than the ratchet wrench Bolt handed to me, not really," she answered, tossing it between her hands. "I also have tons of candy. Gummy bears, taffy, caramels. Want some?"

Cog picked a couple of saltwater taffies out of Sail's hand. "Well, hopefully the boys have weapons stashed somewhere, just in case they decide to board the ship for some reason."

The boys had run as fast as possible to the teachers' lounge, where Bolt claimed weapons were stored. Nobody was going to question why there was a secret hatch filled with thirty-year-old rifles and pistols, but it didn't seem very legal. Either way, they were lucky to have it.

"Have either of y'all ever fired a gun?" Bolt asked, opening the secret hatch in the floor.

"If I wasn't designing an airship, I was using my dad's semi-auto," Sprocket attested.

"Never even looked at a gun before today," Gogs answered.

"Now's a great time to learn, then," Bolt said, placing one of the ancient rifles in Gogs' hands. "I just hope these are all at least moderately functioning. Just in case, I'm grabbing a few extra pistols."

Sprocket was a little pickier with his choices, however. "Should I go for quick, clean, and efficient, or something that's a little more fun to use?" He weighed the two options with more hesitation than Bolt would have liked.

"Quick, clean, and efficient," Bolt answered. "This ain't a game. We aren't gonna let these thugs take over our ship."

He then turned over to Gogs, who was still trying to figure out how to load his new gun. "So, whatcha think about Sail?"

"What do you mean?" he asked, partially nervous. He didn't know Bolt all that well, and the last thing he wanted to deal with was an overprotective brother. Especially because said older brother had a rifle of his own.

"Like, do you like her?"

"Do you mean as in, 'like-like' or just 'like?' The terminology is confusing me."

"Wow, you really are a nerd. Either-or."

"Well, I do like her, and—"

"So, you 'like-like' her."

"I never said that, but I do—"

"Love her?! Wow. Just yanking your chain. I could tell you were in love. Both of you."

"Wait, how?"

"They say your pupils dilate fifty percent when you stare at something you love," he explained, done loading his automatic rifle. "Also, both Sail and Sprocket told me."

"Figures."

"Alright, locked and loaded," Sprocket voiced, holding two SMGs.

Gogs grabbed his deck of cards one last time and rubbed it. "Better get as much luck as we can. Nazis are killing machines."

"Maybe they are, maybe they're not," Sprocket commented. "They've been out of practice for thirty years now."

"If you really believe that," Bolt said, "I've got some great conspiracy theories for you that'll probably change your mind."

The two groups met once again at the study hall to lay out a plan. Less and less of their classmates were wandering about, but there was the occasional teacher patrolling. Many were arming themselves, too. None of them were very pleased that four students were going to join in on the fighting, but nobody really argued against it. If the teachers failed, they were all in grave danger, anyway.

Sprocket kept a constant watch on the doorway. Although they couldn't hear much over the ever-blaring airship sirens, he was worried that they were already being boarded and was trying to listen for any telltale signs.

"None of us here are really tactical experts," Bolt acknowledged, the tallest of the group, "but we need to develop a plan. The other teachers are going to be helping all along the way. That said, we need one of us in the cockpit, preferably someone who can fly but not aim."

The four of them turned to Sail, who looked like she wanted to deny the accusation. "While I'm flattered that you guys want me to fly, I'm also offended by the whole aiming thing."

"All I'm saying is, you've never fired a gun before. Chances are, it won't be pretty."

"Alright, fine."

"The rest of us, we have to be able to keep her safe just in case—"

Yelling and footsteps echoed nearby, interrupting Bolt. A group of people were heading their way, and they didn't sound very friendly. Cog and Sail immediately tensed up, and the boys all leveled their guns at the doorway, removing their safeties.

"Steht auf! Vorwärts! Steht auf!" One invader, dressed in full black attire and a red armband, ran into the room, shouting orders in German. He had a fraction of a second to register three guns all pointed at him. Two bullets from two guns fired, sending him flying to the ground. Cog and Sail stared at the other three, and Gogs examined his gun.

"Wait, did I just turn the safety on?" he asked. "Did I have that off the whole time?"

"I know you're anti-fighting, Cog," Sprocket began, "but we don't really have a choice at this point."

"He didn't even have a gun!" she argued.

"It's us or them, and I would much rather it be them! Especially after we just rescued you from the most sadistic of the bunch!"

"Quit your bickering," Bolt interrupted, running to the door. "We have to get to the pilot's cabin before they do. Come on." The rest of the group followed, the girls a little more stiff than the boys.

"I can't believe you just killed him without hesitation," she whispered to Sprocket.

"Somebody has to do it, Cog," he reasoned. "It might as well be me."

The cockpit wasn't that far away from where they were, but they were all still fully prepared to run into more unwanted boarders. For the most part, nobody made an appearance—not one Nazi, classmate, or teacher. Outside of the cockpit, however, were six or seven armed soldiers in a group. Each had what appeared to be an assault rifle, a gear badge, and their signature armband.

The group of defenders stood motionless in the entryway for a split second before retreating behind a wall. Only one soldier had noticed them. "Oi! Halte! Jungen!" He pointed in their direction.

"That means 'kids,'" Sail translated, hiding her full body from sight.

"Not the time for a German lesson, Sail," Cog whispered.

Four of the seven soldiers ran down the hallway towards them, guns out and ready. She darted away, heading back towards the direction they'd just come from, but the boys stationed themselves and readied their own guns. As soon as the Nazis came into view, all three rifles opened fire. Once again, there was no time for the enemies to react. Bolt, Gogs, and Sprocket were a perfect surprise squad.

The other three soldiers started yelling something unintelligible prior to also rounding the corner, firing their guns. They had no clue where to aim at, and were also taken down.

"I thought you said this wasn't a game," Sprocket expressed to Bolt, referencing the seven dead thugs in front of them.

"It's not," he replied. "We're just getting lucky. They probably didn't think anybody was armed when they boarded. There's no way they don't know now."

"Cog, are you okay?" Gogs asked, noticing her lying on the ground behind them. Everyone turned to check on her.

"Yeah," she answered, getting up. "I just wanted to make sure I was out of the way of... that mess." She pointed at the intersection where the Nazis had met their doom.

"All right," Bolt observed, "the area's cleared. Now we can access the pilot's room."

Sprocket tried shoving the door open, but it wouldn't budge.

"I guess he wasn't lying about the door. It really is locked."

"Over here," Cog chimed, pointing at the crowbar lodged in between two gears. She wiggled it out from its position, and the gears speedily fired back up.

The door swung open quickly and loudly, startling Sprocket. Very few people were actually allowed to be inside the pilot's cabin and cockpit, so they all took a curious step closer. Sail, being the closest, recoiled in horror at what was on the ground in front of her.

Sprawled out on the floor was Amp, a hand frozen over his mouth. His eyes looked irritated, and he wasn't breathing.

That made for another thing Lukas wasn't lying about.

"Oh, no," Bolt whispered, all words leaving him. He had no clue what to say or do.

Cog desperately held back the tears that were steadily building up. She'd pushed the notion away for a while, but seeing the evidence right in front of her meant that there was no more denying it. Amp was dead. A flood of memories washed over her, a mix between old and new.

She couldn't hold them back any longer.

Her wails were just as soul-crushing as her screams had been just under an hour ago. It felt like every fabric of her body had ripped open in mourning. She had known him for only two years, but that was all the time the world had allotted.

All that was left was sorrow.

Sprocket reached out to her, but realized he had no clue what to say. Loss wasn't something you could just fix. Losing Amp would be even harder to fix. He gazed over at Bolt for help, who nodded and kneeled down to hug her. She sobbed into his shoulder, muffled a little by the fabric.

Tears streamed down Sail's own face as she walked over to the pilot's seat. She searched for something to take her mind off of the scene behind her. Buttons and levers surrounded the wheel, which was dead ahead. The only other things in the main cabin were two doorways on either side, leading to both Amp's office and his living quarters.

"I'll need a few minutes to get this thing up and running again," she estimated, her voice cracking. "Then, hopefully, we can get far away from here."

"Great," Bolt responded, still wrapped around Cog, who was now also wrapped around him. He turned to Gogs and asked, "You said you love her, right?"

"Well, I do, but I never—"

This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

"Great, we'll be defending the rest of the ship. Guard her with your life. Sprocket and I are going to stake out the dorms nearest the entrance."

Sail watched him, wide-eyed. "Careful out there, Hunter," she said.

"We'll be fine," he assured, "we've got Cog."

"I can't fire a gun," Cog responded through tears.

"But you're cute enough to distract them. Let's go." He picked her up with one arm and carried her out with him. As the three left, Sail got an idea. She searched for the intercom mic and turned it on.

"This is your captain speaking," she announced, shaking, "and I'm not a Nazi. However, there are Nazis on board, and I recommend you stay inside your dorms until you hear from me or Gogs again. The teachers are all armed and ready to fight the Nazis, so please retaliate against red armbands only. If more alarms turn on, I've been compromised. Amp seems to have already been compromised. Sail out."

She flipped the engine switch, and a gauge displaying the ship's warmup progress began slowly climbing in front of her. Gogs latched the door and dragged Amp out of the way. It was morbid, but he didn't have enough time to be very careful.

"Sorry, sir," he said, keeping his own tears down.

Footsteps moved outside, a loud rhythm of boots against the old wooden floorboards. "So, about that loving me," Sail said, spinning in the chair towards the wave of noise. Somehow, she doubted locking the door was going to do a lot to help them out.

Bolt and Sprocket were throwing filing cabinets down on their side across the floor, hoping they would slow the enemy and act as makeshift barricades, while Cog was still violently crying. Neither of them felt like it was a good idea to tell her it was probably going to alert the enemies to their location.

Off in the distance, the rhythmic footsteps of the enemy gradually grew closer to their location. Bolt and Sprocket dived for cover. Cog snapped out of her funk for a moment and whipped behind a door. All three tensed as a loud voice commanded that they drop their weapons and come out of hiding. Through the door's window, Cog could see the man behind the voice. It was an old, grumpy-looking man with an automatic rifle aimed in their direction.

Instead of complying, of course, Bolt sprang from his hiding spot and unloaded his magazine on the enemy. She realized she was almost in the direct line of fire between the two opposing sides, but there was no way she could move without being spotted. Unsure of what to do, she stood perfectly still, pressed against the door.

The first contending bullet shot from the Nazis went directly through the door, anxiously close to the top of her head. A second bullet pinged against the outside doorknob, ricocheting somewhere nearby. This, on top of her broken heart, was almost too much to bear.

The instant no bullets called back after them, three of the soldiers stood out into the hall Bolt and Sprocket had just previously been in. Cog used the chance to hide further back into the room she was using for protection, hoping they wouldn't see her. The three opened fire on where Sprocket and Bolt had just been, but quickly realized they weren't there anymore. An additional four soldiers joined their search, and they started going room-to-room.

None of them had the chance to check Cog's hiding spot, however, because gunfire rained down on them again, this time from where they had first been. They took the defensive, hiding behind the same walls and cabinets the boys had thrown down earlier. The tally was four Nazis left, which still left them outgunned and outmanned.

One soldier yelled into his walkie talkie while another pulled out some sort of throwable weapon. He blindly threw one in Sprocket's general direction. It hit the wall way above his head. The soldier continued twice more until Bolt shot the hand tossing them. The man cried out in anger and pain, spewing German profanities.

A long minute passed in a dreadfully tense silence. It was broken by more footsteps stomping in the distance, slowly getting louder. Gunshots also rang out. Every once in a while, a German scream could be heard in between.

Hopefully, that was a good sign.

One of the four left poked their head out just long enough for Sprocket to shoot. The bullet went through the helmet and caused the man to fall backwards dramatically.

"Curiosity kills the cat, you Kraut blotska," Sprocket taunted from behind the corner.

Bolt peeked at him from the other side of the opening, squinting his eyes. "Was that supposed to be a Russian swear?" he poked.

"I don't know. It just kind of came out."

More shots rang out, making them both jump. This time, they came from behind the hiding Germans. Einstein entered the walkway, a pistol in his hand.

"I heard gunshots," he said, using his fake German accent despite the current state of affairs. "I figured it wasn't just target practice."

"Thanks, Einstein," Bolt chimed, shaking his hand, "but we're not out of the woods yet. There's a bunch of girls in their quarters that need to be moved to a safer spot. Could you escort them to the mess hall?"

Einstein yelled down both dorm halls, "Girls! Quickly, quietly, and in an organized fashion, begin moving to the cafeteria for safety. There, I and other teachers will retaliate against Nazi opposition. We don't have a lot of time. All of your belongings will be where you left them."

Quietly or orderly weren't on the table, but they all moved pretty quickly. Cog, Sprocket, and Bolt moved forward, more towards the boys' dorm area. Instead of putting cabinets in the way, Sprocket ran into his bedroom to retrieve a large metal disc.

"For the most part, this puppy is bulletproof," he said, putting his arm through a fastener. The disc was two-and-a-half feet in diameter and shielded about a third of his body.

"I have so many questions right now," Bolt voiced, staring at the massive gun-metal gray shield.

It didn't help that Sprocket was still in the Santa costume.

Footsteps sounded off again, marching closer and closer to their location. Sprocket and Bolt aimed their weapons, and Cog held a German pistol she had picked up close to her chest. "I think they'll just have to wait, though."

The knife in her pocket felt heavier by the minute. She still wasn't sure she could kill somebody. Even a Nazi. Apparently, nobody else on board was having the same issue. Would she have the strength to fire a gun, even if it meant protecting herself? Even if it meant protecting somebody else?

The enemy marchers almost walked directly past their fortifications, but one troop noticed three heads poking out behind a filing cabinet. The soldier yelled at them, and Bolt fired his weapon into the crowd. In response, a wave of Nazi bullets rushed towards the three of them. Most were blocked by the shield, which heavily dented in response. The rest of the bullets soared way above.

While Bolt and Sprocket held the front, Cog sparked an idea. It was risky, but if she managed to convince herself to shoot, it could work. Still completely hidden, she crawled away from the other two and went down to the next hallway, while the other two kept enemy focus. She figured that if she acted quick enough, she could try an ambush like Einstein had just done moments ago.

One of the Nazi soldiers on the other side had the same idea. They both rounded the corner at the same time, but only the Nazi was prepared to attack. He barreled towards her, yelling and shooting, as she quickly ducked behind the wall again.

Her hands were shaking as she tried to aim the gun. She thought for sure this would be the end. If not the end of her, then of her pacifism. The footsteps edged closer, and she leveled the gun in front of her. She held her breath, waiting for the moment.

Luckily, it never came. A door opened up, followed by yelling and a few gunshots. Then, there was a rustling, a crack, and a silence. At least, from this area.

"Quickly, Cog," a voice whispered. She popped out from behind the cabinet to see Torque with the Nazi's weapon. She lowered her gun and finally let out the breath she'd been holding.

"Thanks, Torque. How'd you know it was me?" she wondered.

"Sail's in the cockpit, and Sprocket wouldn't yip like you did. It was a coin toss from there."

They both approached the corner where the large group of enemies stood, and Torque opened fire. None of their targets were facing them, so the ambush was quick and easy.

"You didn't even fire," Torque angrily pointed out, after the last of the group was down. She was completely frozen, with her eyes shut and the gun outstretched.

"I can't shoot people!" she desperately exclaimed, peeking one eye open. Everywhere they went, they created a mess.

"These aren't people," he almost yelled. "They're Nazis. They are everything wrong with a person." He went to escort some of the first-year boys over to the mess hall, leaving Cog standing in silence with her mouth open.

"I think we've gotten them all," Sprocket said, tossing aside his dented makeshift shield. Bolt looked out the window to see the hostile airship. He turned around, fear plastered across his face.

"That's the A.S. Mumba," he realized.

"The one that Hitler talked about on the broadcast?!" Sprocket asked, joining him at the window.

"Wait, what do you mean Hitler talked on the broadcast?" Cog questioned.

"We don't have the time to explain, Cog. Our problem is far from over. That was nowhere near all the soldiers."

The three stared out the window together. The massive beast was flying alongside them, blotting out most of the night sky.

The distant gunfire had ended, but Gogs had plenty of his own opponents. He was peeking out the doorway, doing his best to keep enemies away. This was the main access point for the cockpit and the control point of the entire ship. The Germans kept coming down the same path, so he positioned himself properly for the last wave he could take on.

"Last clip!" he yelled to Sail, pulling out his third empty magazine and sliding a fourth in. She was nervously hiding while waiting for the engines to boot. It was just seven percent away from being done, but it had taken way longer than either of them would have liked. To distract himself from the amassing anxiety and fear he felt, he counted the bullets shot and the hits made.

Ninety bullets, nineteen hits. Maybe not the best, but it was enough.

The metal clinging down the stairs indicated yet another squad of invaders incoming. They approached slowly, but still way too fast for his liking. As soon as one of them was visible in the doorway to the stairs, he tapped his trigger. Ninety-one bullets, twenty hits.

The rest of the squad got the warning. They stopped on the staircase and whispered to each other. Without warning, they rushed down the stairs again, this time in a group of three. Ninety-two and twenty-one, ninety-four and twenty-two, ninety-seven and twenty-three.

An additional round came, and he held them back just the same. "What are we at, Sail? I've got two bullets left."

She glanced at the meter. "Ninety-six percent. How many were you able to get?"

"Twenty-seven," he said. Despite the intensity of the situation, he could count every bullet and every kill. Not quite what his brain was meant for, but it had to suffice. If three more enemies made an appearance, it was game over. Luckily, nobody else was approaching yet.

"How can one untrained teen kill twenty-seven trained Nazi soldiers?" Sail asked.

"Your guess is as good as mine. I just hope it's going to be enough."

"I've got an idea," Sail nervously chimed, flipping on the PA system for the second time.

"Attention everyone, this is Sail again. We do not know your status, but things are bleak down here. Instead of letting the Krauts get into the cockpit, we're offering a better alternative. We only have two bullets left and desperately need help down here. Those who are willing to directly attack them, there is a stash of guns in the teachers' lounge. For those wanting to fight indirectly, I'll activate the cannon system as soon as I can. You can blast their airship. Thanks. Again, as soon as you can, we need help."

"Good thinking," Gogs approved. "I'm just worried they're gonna realize we're trying to coordinate things and start—"

German yelling echoed through the hallways, and heavy footsteps rushed towards them. He didn't know how many there were. Any pair of boots could be their demise. Rather than waiting to find out, he slammed the door shut and lock it.

"This should buy us some time," he said, grabbing her and bringing her over to hide in a corner. They sat in dreadful silence as the marching came closer to the door, eyes locked on each other. The enemies pounded on the door. Gogs gave her hands a quick squeeze, and she squeezed back. Their heartbeats ran faster and pounded harder at each attempt on the door.

Somebody on the outside was throwing their entire weight into the door, making it shudder and groan. On the eighth full-body smash, the door broke off its hinge and dangled crookedly on the wall. Five armed soldiers entered, aiming their guns at the two of them. One advanced a few steps towards them as gunfire sounded from outside.

"Nazi scum!" shouted a voice, accompanied by more gunfire. The soldier that had walked up to them was not distracted. He still had his pistol aimed directly at Gogs.

His heart was racing, partially caused by the gun pointed at him, but also because he was now locked in a kiss with Sail. He closed his eyes in the embrace. He didn't want to be trapped in a corner in the cockpit. He didn't want to be anywhere, really. Only with her. Heat spiked up his neck, and a blush lit up his cheeks. Blood rushed to his head. The world seemed to stop around him. At least, he hoped it had stopped.

Sail was also half lost in the moment, but couldn't take her eyes off of the armed assailant moments away from firing at them.

Don't let this be it, she prayed, holding onto Gogs' hands as he raised them to her chest. Their heartbeats blended together, keeping at nearly the same pace. Neither was scared to hide their pulses from each other this time. The two made eye contact, both on the verge of crying.

Don't let this be it.

Two shots went off and echoed through the room. Behind them, the armed soldier animatedly fell to the ground at the same time Gogs' heart rate spiked. He tensed for a moment and then lost his grip on her hands.

"Gogs?!" She felt her heart get heavy.

Don't let this be it.

He slumped onto her. His hands were stiff, and his lips were paling. She lifted him up a bit, revealing a bullet hole clean through his chest.

"Gogs!" she called out again. It was both a yell and a cry. She set him flat on the ground, refusing to let go of his arm. Above her, the student that shot the soldier rushed in.

"Help!" she commanded, her voice shaking.

The kid felt Gogs' neck. "Sail, he's gone."

The gauge dinged.

Both hope and luck were running out for Bolt, Cog, Torque, and Sprocket. They were pinned at the secondary entrance with low ammo and a lowering morale. Cog, knife in pocket and pistol gripped with white knuckles, had finally been convinced. Occasionally, she chimed in with a shot or two down the corridor. Whether or not she'd hit anything was another story.

"Pick up a different gun!" she yelled at them, jarred from the recoil.

"You don't think we tried that?!" Torque yelled back, tossing aside yet another emptied German assault rifle.

A metal cylinder landed in front of the four, pinging against the ground audibly.

"Flashbang!" Sprocket yelled. He was a bit too late. The cylinder emitted its disorienting light with a very loud, ringing noise. Cog felt something touch her, but she was still trying to regain her senses. Two hands gripped her upper arms and started pulling her away. She wasn't actually sure which direction "away" was.

Finally, when her vision had partially cleared, she looked around. The two hands that had picked her up belonged to a couple of Nazis, just two of four surrounding her. They were dragging her outside to the A.S. Mumba, which had connected itself to the Globetrotter via metal cords and bridges. She felt panic bubbling inside her. A scream swelled in her throat and escaped like steam through a pipe.

"That's Cog!" Sprocket yelled, working on recollecting his own eyesight. The gunfire kicked up again, but they couldn't return fire. He continued hiding behind the wall as the buzz of bullets continued.

A different buzz also sounded, much louder than the bullets. It was like an engine was heading their way. Only Bolt understood what was happening. "Incoming!" he yelled, as two small airships barreled down the hall. Driving them were the two kids helping him earlier, headed towards the Nazi's entrance point. The two soldiers gripped onto either side of Cog turned to inspect the source of the noise, right before being blindsided.

Cog was stuck in between the two ships as they raced forward, less than a few inches from being grazed on either side. After all that had happened so far, this close call hardly even affected her.

"Hello, mademoiselle," one kid said, grabbing her. His French accent was thick.

"Oi, pal, pay attention," the other warned, sounding British. He also reached for her as their ships headed directly towards the Mumba. Sprocket watched as both rammed nose-first into the side of the behemoth airship, crashing through the hull.