Gods of New Orleans
Page 29
“Hands off, dammit!”
Emma motioned at the girls to head for the door. “C’mon. We’re flying out of here.”
The girls didn’t miss a beat and shimmied their way out the door quick as could be. Emma backed up until she stood beside Juliette.
“Is your mother going to make it?” she asked the girl.
“I-I don’t know.”
Emma risked a look down, taking her eyes off the bankers, who still had their eyes on her.
Lisette held a hand over her belly where blood pooled under the dress, staining it in a halo around the bullet hole.
“Gon’-gon’ be okay, Juliette,” she said. “You go with Miss Emma here. She got your brother out in that airship. You go on and get away from this place.”
Juliette shook her head and dropped her tears onto her mother’s face. Lisette’s eyes squeezed tight and Emma could tell the pain was too much as the woman ground her teeth and held a grunt behind her lips.
Then she shook and went still, letting out a breath that rattled and caught at Emma’s own heart.
The Ghost’s voice came across the room then. “Only so many favors I can call in, Miss Emma,” he said. “Best be gettin’ on, like I said.”
Emma looked at Eddie, dead on the floor, then she and Juliette stood up. They stepped to the door, leaving Lisette and Eddie where they lay.
~•~
Outside, the airship was already running, and the winds of a storm were blowing in off the gulf Gulf harder and hotter than they had yet. Emma didn’t know what was going on with the Vigilance, but she’d damn sure soon find out. She raced up the gangway to find the Conroy kid at the controls. He had one arm in a sling, but a half-grin slid onto his mug when he saw her.
“Figured I’d just keep her warmed up for you,” he said. The girls all moved inside to stand in the corner by the galley door. Julien was hunkered down in the opposite corner with a knife held out like he’d stab whoever came close first.
Juliette stepped into the cabin behind Emma and Julien’s face went soft and messy with tears.
He knows.
Emma went to the cockpit and looked the Conroy kid in the eye.
“Where’d you come from?”
“Engine room. Figured it was the safest place for me after my . . .”
“After your what?”
The kid seemed like he’d give her an answer, but then his eyes went to Brand’s old desk.
“There’s a letter for you. I opened mine already.”
Emma saw the torn-open envelope and a note card on the controls, like they’d been thrown there. She went to the desk and took out the envelope with her name on it. She still couldn’t quite get her head around the way it was addressed.
VIGILANCE C/O EMMA FARSNWORTH
While the kid crumpled up his letter and stuffed it down the waste chute beside her, Emma read hers. It was from a god named Chance. He was thanking her for her kind assistance in keeping the city of New Orleans on an even keel, and asking if she could go one better by showing up at tonight’s event. A grin spread across her mouth as she read the note and she laughed once.
“I guess I can at that, Mr. Chance. And I guess Brand wasn’t lying after all,” Emma said as she pushed the card and envelope down the waste chute by the desk. She glanced at the gala house through the cabin windows. Bacchus’ tough birds held the doors open for the flood of people pouring out and trailing away into the night. Some of the guests seemed almost happy, but most of them staggered along like they’d just come off a battlefield and weren’t sure they still had all their pieces.
Emma waved a hand to dispel their memory and went to the cockpit. She came up short beside the pilot’s chair when the cabin wall shimmered and Brand stepped into the cabin.
“You again,” Emma said, staring Brand in the eyes. “I would have thought you’d push off by now. Your job’s done, isn’t it?”
“Maybe,” Brand said, pawing his tattered hat off his head and holding it over his stomach. “Was . . . I mean, if it’s not too much trouble, I was . . .”
“Mr. Brand,” Aiden said from behind Emma. He came around and made to shake the tramp’s hand, but Brand just scooted back up against he cabin wall like he’d fall through it before he touched the kid’s mitt.
“What is it, Mr. Brand,” Aiden said. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong, kid,” Emma said with a smile. “He just needs a ride. Right, Brand? Why don’t you take the seat at the desk?”
Emma motioned for Brand to take his old seat, and the tramp didn’t waste a second. He nodded his thanks and shuffled over to flop down in his old chair. He gave a little smile and pivoted right and left with a quick flex of his legs.
“Just like old times, eh Mr. Brand,” Aiden said. Brand nodded again, smiled some more, and then sniffed once before he wiped away what Emma figured had to be tears of joy.
The winds pushed and shook the airship then, rocking it against the mooring lines. Emma told everyone to get settled as she went to the cockpit. Juliette wrapped herself up in a blanket with her brother. Aiden showed the other girls the bunkroom corridor, and told them where they could find blankets for themselves.
“You can take the bunkrooms, too. If you want. I’ll be up in the mechanic’s cot.”
“You got any know-how for fixing this ship, Aiden?” Emma asked while she radioed the gearboxes to set them loose from the deck.
“A little,” the kid said. “But Mr. Brand probably knows more. Ain’t that right, Mr. Brand?”
Emma gave a sideways glance at the tramp sitting at the desk. He might not be flapping his gums about What’s what and All the news that’s fit to blab about, but it was still Brand, sure as sure could be. And the way he held himself and nodded, Emma almost thought he might have what it takes to keep them in the air if something went wrong.
“Fingers crossed you aren’t just nodding your head so you can catch a free ride, Brand. This ship’s been through a lot already. No telling if she’ll get us to our destination.”
Brand didn’t say anything, but his eyes told her what she needed to know. As long as she was watching out for him, he’d give everything he had to keep her and the others safe.
“Where’re we going?” Juliette asked.
“New York City,” Emma said. “You and the other girls here are just the first ones to get free. Bacchus had this business going on for who knows how long. There’s a lot more work to do.”
Acknowledgements
Gods of New Orleans would not exist without the help, support, and encouragement of these wonderful people:
Beta and proofreading
Belinda Sikes, Zoë Markham, John Paul Catton, John Monk, Alice Kottmyer, Horace Brickley, Sarah Zama, Mike Harris, and Dover Whitecliff
Formatting by Therin Knite of Knite and Day Design
Cover design and artwork by Eloise J. Knapp
About the Author
I write and edit speculative fiction, primarily in the dark/weird/thriller/sci-fi genres. In addition to my novels, Gods of Chicago and Gods of New Orleans, I’ve published multiple short stories and have co-edited two anthologies of Steampunk / Alternate-history fiction. When I’m not writing or editing (or picking up after the kids), I’m probably out in the woodshop making sawdust and chips with my grandfather’s hand tools.
You can connect with me and find out more about my editing services at www.ajsikes.com
I avoid Facebook like the plague, but hang around on Twitter @AJSikes_Author
Now and then, I blog about woodworking, writing, and editing at writingjoinery.wordpress.com
cale(100%); filter: grayscale(100%); " class="sharethis-inline-share-buttons">share