Straight Outta Dodge City

by David Boop

  My wolf snarled in the background of my mind. She wanted to eat them. I feared, more than almost anything, that she would.

  Almost anything. The way they were going at Ramon, I knew they intended to kill him. They’d forgotten me for the moment, and I wrestled with my conscience for all of five seconds before screaming for Jolee. One of Ramon’s bones snapped with a nauseating wet-stick crunch.

  The monkey-clowns came whooping onto the scene. They knew what to do with chains, and had me free in a matter of moments. I leapt to my feet and charged, hitting my tormentors like a ton of wrathful bricks, scattering the roustabouts. Eb, more adroit than his bulk would have suggested, twisted out of my path. My claws only caught his coat in passing, tearing rents through the expensive fabric.

  He faced me, panting a little. “Behave yourself, Channie. You know what happens to bad dogs.”

  I stalked him in a circle. “Go to Hell and burn there, Eb. I’m not your dog anymore.”

  “Apparently you’re going to be his bitch, though.” Eb jerked his chin in Ramon’s direction. “And that won’t do.” He’d been ready for us in more ways than one—he pulled an ugly little snub-nosed revolver from his waistband. I could smell that it was loaded with silver, which was bad enough when it just touched a werewolf’s skin; breaking through and drawing blood would be a whole other level of unhealthy. Wounds like that were slow to heal, if they ever did. I tensed, hackles rising.

  But he didn’t point it at me. He aimed it at Ramon. The monkey-clowns hadn’t quite finished pulling his chains away, and he was still down and helpless.

  Without conscious thought, I launched myself at Eb. The pistol fired at the same moment I slammed into him, and we rolled over and over in the sage and sand. I locked one hand around his wrist, keeping the gun pointed away. Desperation lent me strength, and I landed on top, finally.

  As a human, I’d never been in a fight, but the wolf knew what to do. My clawed hand wrapped around Eb’s throat.

  With my fangs bared an inch from his face, he froze.

  “Ramon.” My voice was far calmer than it had any right to be, though I spoke between my teeth. “Are you okay.” I inflected it more like a statement than a question, and I didn’t know what I’d do if the answer was “no.”

  Ramon took a couple of tries to get up, but the creatures had been right about one thing, at least—healing fast was a definite advantage. He limped over to my side and laid his hand on my shoulder. “I will be. His shot missed…thanks to you.”

  The scent of his blood infuriated me even more. Nose to nose with Eb, I snarled, fangs dripping, hands tightening. He whimpered and tried to shrink away. A bone in his wrist snapped, and he dropped the gun. “I should kill you,” I growled.

  “I won’t tell if you do,” Ramon said, wiping blood from his face. His own hand hovered over his .45, but he didn’t draw it. “Or I’ll do it if you don’t wish to dirty your hands. Just say the word.”

  I’d be wholly justified. Eb was an abusive bastard who ran the circus with an iron fist that brooked no disagreement. More than one of us had been laid up for days at his hands. Prentiss was all right; he’d be a decent boss. We’d all be better off with him in charge.

  But…

  I’d fought my monster, hard, for years. If I gave in to it now that I had control, what would that make me?

  I held Eb’s life cradled in my paws. All I had to do was rip through that tender, tempting throat, and we’d be shut of him for good. It would be easy.

  Too easy. I closed my eyes, breathing hard. I wasn’t the monster. I wasn’t. He was.

  “You leave,” I said, still right in his face. My hand tightened just slightly, claws pricking. “You leave and never come back. The circus is under new management. Understand me?”

  “Magnifica,” Ramon whispered, caressing my shoulder. No man had ever touched me that affectionately. I was still naked and half-wolf, and I felt neither shame nor fear.

  Finally, I was at ease with what I was. Monstrous, perhaps. But not a monster.

  Eb jerked his chin in the tiniest nod possible. “All right,” he croaked.

  “And take your toadies with you,” I said, releasing him. “We don’t need them anymore either.”

  Before I rose fully to my feet, my hand flashed out and left a set of four bleeding slashes across his face. “That,” I said, “is to remember me by. I was merciful, this once. I will not be so merciful a second time.”

  He slunk off with his roustabouts. I instructed Jolee and the rest of the monkey-clowns to follow and make sure they left. They swung away after them.

  My shoulders slumped. I was exhausted, and hungry—and triumphant. “How are you doing?” I asked Ramon.

  “Better all the time,” he said. He tilted his head, considering. “It appears you have some job openings in your circus, Miss Channie. Would you consider hiring me on as a roustabout? Maybe a trick rider?”

  I gave him a smile and wondered how it looked on my new face. “I believe I would enjoy that, very much.”

  “No cages?” he asked.

  “No cages,” I answered. “Never again.”

  Stealing Thunder from the Gods

  KIM MAY

  Anli Wong-McKinnon hung upside down from the steel guardrail for the narrow catwalk that rimmed the “lungs” of her airship, the Mystique. A strong gust had ripped the emerald-and-white-striped silk sleeve encasing the massive balloons that kept Mystique aloft. Surprisingly, hanging upside down to reach the tear was the easy part. The hard part was holding onto the needle while wearing thick canvas work gloves. The job would be far easier if she took them off, but it was too cold at this elevation to work without them. Everyone thought the Great Plains were hot and dry, however, in the spring and at a thousand feet, it got quite chilly.

  Her legs ached from clenching the rail so tightly and the metal dug into the back of her knees. She desperately wanted to stretch her legs out and give them a break, but doing that would result in a hundred foot drop to the Mystique’s deck, and that’s assuming that the wind didn’t blow her overboard as she fell.

  Anli took a deep breath, pushed a loose strand of her ebony hair that blew onto her face, and refocused on stitching the sleeve. One more inch to go. With her left hand she did her best to hold the two pieces together while she worked the needle with the right. Blood pounded in her ears as she worked.

  A strong breeze tugged the fabric out of her hand.

  “Tzao gao!” Anli cursed.

  Thank Buddha it wasn’t strong enough to do more to her than ruffle her hair, but the slightest breeze could catch the sleeve. Even though Mystique was a dirigible, at times like this, she felt more like the schooner she started life as. She was simply waiting for a magical wind to turn her balloons back into sails.

  Anli grabbed the fluttering ends of the sleeve with a white-knuckled grip and stitched faster. She finished just as her feet were starting to tingle from the lack of blood flow. Anli tied the leftover thread into a messy knot, cut off the excess with her teeth, and stuck the needle into her black corset. The stiff fabric would keep it secure until she could put it back in her sewing kit.

  Anli pulled herself up and over the guardrail, and sat on the small platform with her legs dangling over the edge. She held onto the guardrail while the blood left her head. Within a minute, she felt at rights again. She stretched her aching legs, extending the stretch all the way down to her toes—or at least as much as her sturdy black leather boots would allow.

  “Honey, you almost done?” her husband, Josiah, called from the deck. Perhaps it was blood rush, but he looked more handsome from this height. His patchy brown beard looked smooth and soft from up here, and she couldn’t see the crook in his nose from when it had been broken in a bar fight.

  “I’ll be down soon,” she shouted back. “You can fire it up.”

  Josiah gave her a thumbs up and went back below decks to fire up the burners. The Mystique drifted at the moment. Josiah didn’t want the burners ac
tive while she worked, which was a sensible—if not entirely necessary—safety precaution. Their altitude had dropped a bit. She could tell by how much taller the high plateaus in the distance appeared. At the beginning of her repair they sailed above their summits. Now the stone monoliths loomed down on them. The Mystique wasn’t in any danger of crashing, but they were still too low for comfort.

  Anli stood and grabbed the nearest guide rope. She swung her legs over the guardrail, locked her ankles around the rope, and slid down to the deck, landing with a soft thud. Her work gloves and boots were a little worse for wear from the trip down, but her feet and hands were a little warmer from the friction so it was worth it.

  The sound of clapping made her spin around. It was just one of their passengers. Richard Carter and his wife Delphinia had booked passage back East. Josiah liked them, but something about them didn’t feel right to her. Perhaps it was the fact that their clothes, while nice, still looked like pale imitations of the fine tailored suits and dresses that people of their supposed social standing actually wore. For instance, today he wore an all-white suit, but while his pants and shirt were true white, his vest was cream colored, and his jacket and shoes were antique white. The Carters were also too quick to compliment and hadn’t said a word about their captain having a Chinese wife. If there was one universal truth in America it was that the upper classes could always be depended upon for a disparaging or racist remark. Often both.

  Anli also didn’t like that the Carters had a very large crate in the cargo hold—a crate whose contents liked to make strange thumping and cooing noises as soon as the sun rose.

  “Well done,” Mr. Carter said. He smiled, but his joviality never reached his eyes.

  “Thank you, Mr. Carter,” Anli said only to be polite. “Would you like some assistance returning below deck? If you recall, my husband told you that it is not safe on deck without a safety tether.”

  “You don’t have one.”

  “I live here,” Anli said firmly. “I know how to be safe when a strong gust or an unexpected crosswind comes. You do not.”

  Mr. Carter chuckled. “Point taken. If you would be so kind as to guide me back?” He proffered his right arm like he was going to escort her to a dance floor. Anli grasped his bicep instead and led him back to the open hatch. He motioned for her to descend first, but one stern look was enough for him to understand that manners weren’t going to put him back in her good graces.

  Anli waited until he reached the landing before going below herself. A soft rumble of thunder behind her made her turn. The sky to the north was filled with dark gray clouds.

  That’s strange. The sky was clear in that direction just a few minutes ago. It was too early in the year for twisters, and those never came from the north. Whatever this storm was, judging by the way the shadows beneath the storm progressed, it was headed directly for them and fast.

  Another peal of thunder rumbled across the plain. This one was slightly louder. A loud thump and squawk from the hold seemed to answer it.

  Anli slid down the brass handrails, letting her weight propel her to the landing. The second her boots hit the floor, she jogged to the bridge at the bow of the ship. Josiah stood at the main console, monitoring their altitude and the boiler pressure gauges.

  “The weather is changing,” Anli said. “We may have to fly high for a while.”

  Josiah looked at her over his shoulder. “I heard the thunder. I’ll take her up a hundred feet above cruising altitude. We can reassess when it’s closer.”

  Anli nodded. “It seems to be making the cargo restless too.”

  Josiah nodded. “I heard and felt that.” He turned back to the console.

  Anli walked over to the navigation wheel at the apex of the bow. Two large windows directly in front of the wheel and two smaller windows on the port and starboard sides gave them a clear view of Mystique’s flight path. She turned the wheel to starboard and cranked up the speed on the stern propellers to full. Turning Mystique south might give them a few more minutes to climb above the storm. Another thunderclap sounded. The answering thud from below was hard enough that it shook the floorboards and rattled the windowpanes.

  “If it gets worse I’m dumping it.”

  “You do that and we won’t get paid,” Josiah said.

  Anli didn’t have to turn around to know that he furrowed his brow and that he leaned on the console to help him bear the weight of responsibility on his shoulders. Anli sighed. “I know. But if I don’t, we may not have a ship at all.”

  With the new and much faster railroad going in, finding enough jobs to keep Mystique flying became harder and harder. San Francisco and Kansas City had already cancelled their building plans for airship docks in favor of railroad stations. She and Josiah both knew that someday they would have to say farewell to the sky.

  But that day would not be today if she had anything to say about it.

  The floor shook again, however, not due to their aggravated cargo. The rapidly approaching thunder reverberated through the cabin. A bright flash on the port side drew Anli’s attention. The storm grew frighteningly close—only ten miles out. Lighting flashed, but not the single bolt that she expected. Instead, a rapid succession of bolts rained down from the storm—some striking the ground, or scorching the earth. Some laced sideways through the clouds, while others reached upward through the clouds to the heavens. At the center of it all hovered a large black mass.

  “What is that?” Anli wondered aloud.

  Josiah walked up to the portside window to get a better look. “Pass me the spyglass.”

  They kept one mounted on the starboard wall, right next to her father’s jian in its black lacquered scabbard. Anli reached over and passed it to him without taking her eyes off the terrifying storm. She was afraid that, if she took her eyes off it for a second, when she turned back it would be knocking on the window, asking for a cup of tea.

  Josiah brought the spyglass up to his eye and focused on the lightning’s nexus. The clouds swirled and parted. Anli saw something dark emerge from the clouds, but she couldn’t see it well enough to know what it was. Josiah’s jaw dropped as quickly as the spyglass fell from his hands. Anli dove and caught the spyglass seconds before it hit the floor. She was about to ask Josiah what it was when he ran back to the console and cranked all the levers to full.

  “What are you doing? You’re redlining everything! If the boilers don’t explode from the pressure, the burners will ignite the balloons!”

  Josiah didn’t listen. He kept muttering, “Gotta get higher…maybe if we’re high enough.”

  Anli set the spyglass on the floor and darted over to his console. She grabbed his face and forced him to look at her. “Why are you trying to blow us up?”

  Josiah stared at her blankly for what felt like forever but was probably only a minute or two. Finally his eyes focused on her, and he stopped muttering. “We’re probably dead anyway.” His voice wavered. “May as well take that demon with us.”

  Anli let go of him and staggered back. The man that could watch his wife hang upside down from a handrail, one hundred feet in the air without so much as a shiver in his spine, was afraid. Whatever he saw emerge from the clouds had him so scared he was willing to sacrifice all of them just to take it out.

  What the devil was that thing? More importantly, did she have the courage to find out?

  Anli took a deep breath and forced herself to walk over to the port window. She picked up the spyglass on the way and pointed it at the creature. It took her a moment to bring it into focus since it continued approaching at breakneck speed. When she could finally see it clearly, Anli understood why Josiah dropped the spyglass.

  It was a black bird with a long yellow beak and a wingspan almost as long as the Mystique. Its head alone eclipsed the bridge! It didn’t really have eyes. Instead, it had two glowing masses of churning silvery light. From those two glowing pits, lightning forked out, striking anything and everything. Bolts danced along the creature�
��s wings and along its beak. All the while the bird kept flapping those massive wings, gaining ground.

  Josiah was right. There was no way they could outrun that beast. The best they could hope for was to do as much damage as they could before it took them out.

  “Pardon me,” Mr. Carter said from the doorway. “I seem to have forgotten…oh, no! It found us!”

  Anli and Josiah whipped around to gape at him. Anli’s cheeks flushed. She didn’t realize that she’d forgotten to close the door behind her. How long had Mr. Carter been standing there? More importantly, how did he learn to walk that silently? She hadn’t heard so much as a footfall!

  Mr. Carter bolted down the hallway, and Anli followed, tossing the spyglass to Josiah as she passed. He didn’t go far, only to his cabin where his wife passed the time.

  “Katie, we have to go now!” he said.

  “Katie?” Anli said loud enough for both of them to hear from the hallway. “I thought her name was Delphinia?” Anli skidded to a stop just outside the cabin door and glared at the pair of them. “The truth. Now!”

  Before they could answer, Mystique rocked violently. There was a loud crash below them. “Delphinia” screamed. “Mr. Carter” mostly kept his composure, but his face was noticeably paler than it was a moment before.

  Anli growled. “Stay here.” She slammed the cabin door shut and ran back to the bridge. It was difficult since the ship still jolted, but she managed. Josiah struggled to turn Mystique due south.

  “What’s the damage?” he asked her.

  Anli went to the console and started watching gauges. “Boiler one is holding steady, but the pressure in boiler two is falling.” Boiler two was right next to the cargo hold so that didn’t surprise her, especially if it was the “cargo” that caused the shift in the first place. “Altitude is holding steady. I’m shutting off the burners.”

  Josiah nodded. With Mystique rocking so violently it might tilt the burners enough to set the silk afire. It destroyed any chance they had of outrunning or even outclimbing that beast and the storm.

  “How long till impact?” Anli asked.