“So let me take care of you for a change,” she said. “I’ll wake you when we pull into Fort Bastion.”
“I’ll just sleep for a spell, and then I’ll be right as rain.”
Jessie could only hope he was right.
* * * *
The hours they spent in that compartment were some of the longest hours of her life.
Luke would wake occasionally, and sometimes they would talk of small things, each of them avoiding the painful topic hanging between them: that with each passing hour, he got worse.
Somewhere between Fort Ruby and Fort Bastion, in those dark hours before dawn, Luke’s fever spiked. After that, he slept fitfully. He was restless, mumbling things under his breath, though he said nothing specific. Even feverish and half asleep, he revealed so little about who he was and what he had become.
They pulled into Fort Bastion just as the first rays of dawn were lighting the eastern mountains, faded pink against a lavender sky, illuminating the barren, snow-covered hills. As they chugged into the train station, Jessie woke Luke from his slumber.
He didn’t complain, though dark circles ringed his eyes and perspiration dotted his brow. Sitting up, he clutched his side and closed his eyes for a long time.
“I’m fine,” he said gruffly, before she even had a chance to ask. Perhaps he’d seen the question in her eyes, but it sounded like he was talking more to himself than to her.
Luke pulled down the bags, stopped short, and pressed a hand to his chest. Opening one of them, he pulled a silly, frilly bonnet from the bag and handed the thing to her.
“You expect me to wear this?”
The… thing… was a peaked, rimmed velveteen bonnet, with navy taffeta ribbons and decorated with—of all things—emu feathers and orange silk flowers. Yellowed lace adorned the rim. There was nothing practical about this hat, and it was a hideous color, somewhere between chartreuse and sun-worn olive. Jessie had no fashion sense to speak of, but even she wouldn’t wear such a thing.
The hat wasn’t just ugly. It was outrageously ugly.
Luke didn’t look in her direction, but something in the way he moved seemed amused. “Yeah. Tuck your hair up, and put on your gloves.”
She did as he asked.
By the time she was done, Luke was laughing quietly. “That thing is hideous.”
“You put me in it.”
“Hide in plain sight. No one will remember what you looked like, but they’ll remember that hat. Believe me on this one.” He picked up the bags and put them on his shoulder. Faltered. Tried again until she took them away.
“You can’t, Luke.”
“Neither can you. I got this.”
“No, you don’t. Let me help you.”
As if to prove her wrong, Luke hoisted the bags onto his shoulders. Arched an eyebrow as if to say, “See?”
She pretended not to notice the way his nostrils flared, the tension in his shoulders, or the way his hands shook. She let him maintain the ruse he was fine.
But once they disembarked, Jessie immediately marched up to the porter’s station—they were on every platform—and hired one. When Luke didn’t argue, she knew he was in bad shape.
Jessie followed him into the belly of the station. A massive structure of glass, wrought iron and brick mortar, the station housed both the train and the airship stations. Gas lamps still sparkled as the morning sun streamed in through the massive windows, and when she looked up, airships in all colors floated gracefully above her like clouds. Once they exited the train station proper, going over a wide, uncovered walkway that served as an observation platform for the airship station, Jessie got her first real glimpse at what made Fort Bastion the most important hub in the entire West.
Before her, dirigibles stretched in all directions. Hundreds of them, in all sizes. Transport ships, military ships, passenger ships, even the occasional private airship for the massively wealthy, all shimmering in the early light of dawn. Some were painted bright colors, but those were dull compared to the ones that had been left bare. Those sparkled an iridescent bluish-gray, a color unlike any other. Her father’s blue silver alloy, still emitting a faint, pearlescent glow from the electricity arching through it.
It made her miss him all the more.
Men yelled to one another and pulled long tethers, anchoring airships to the ground. Others unloaded the massive beasts, putting baggage and cargo into open rail cars to transport to the station proper. She watched as one took off. The skein glittered an electric blue as the ship lifted off, and the propeller whirred faintly.
It was so quiet, so unlike the roar of trains, reminding her of how eerily quiet things had been right before Virginia City had been shelled. Airships could be such quiet monsters. For a moment, she was grateful she lived in Nevada, where clear skies dominated for more than three hundred days a year. Many cities back East suffered under the constant danger that any turn in the weather could lead to an attack, and was part of the reason why the seat of federal government had been moved to Chicago years before. The area in and around Chicago didn’t allow airships, and the weather and the winds really didn’t allow for a sneak attack. To this day, the majority of transportation into and out of the city still occurred via train or ship.
Luke draped his arm around her shoulders. “Amazing, isn’t it?”
“Yeah,” she whispered.
“C’mon,” Luke said.
Jessie was startled out of her reverie. She’d been so lost in the marvel of the airships she’d almost forgotten getting help for Luke. Not that she was entirely sure how that would be accomplished.
He led her deep into the airship station, which was a veritable city in itself. There were restaurants and hotels, a tailor and even a bank. The parquet floors were a gleaming, polished mahogany, and dappled sunlight filtered in through the windows and glinted off the diamond glass panes of the gas lanterns.
Luke paid the porter and disappeared into a washroom for a few minutes. When he returned, his hair was damp and his face washed.
Somehow, he managed to look worse.
“Are you going to get help now?”
He didn’t smile, though she suspected he would have if he had been able. Already, he had begun to sweat, despite the chill in the air and the damp clinging to his skin. He picked up the bags and his features tightened, but he didn’t wince or complain.
“Have to get to a telephone,” he said.
Jessie had heard of such things, but never seen one. The forts had them, and many of the larger mines had a closed circuit telephone system, but she still used letters to communicate with people outside her immediate area—even telegrams were too expensive for her. Forget about a telephone. The cost of a single call was worth five telegrams, and she didn’t even have the money for one.
Telephones were like the private airships, and reserved for the fortunate few.
“Where will we find one of those?”
“Come with me,” Luke said, putting his arm around her shoulders. She thought he meant it to be a comfort to her, but the moment he did it, he leaned heavily against her.
She wrapped her arms around his waist and held him tight. “It’s going to be fine.”
“Yup.” Luke stumbled and regained his footing.
Luke, her heart whispered. She tightened her hold on him.
“You all right, Jess?”
“Of course.” She plastered her brightest smile on her face.
“Then don’t do that. That smile looks like it hurts.” He opened the doors to the bank and led her inside. He asked for the bank manager, showed his identification, and led her back to a small, vaulted room not so different from her father’s vault—the door was thick iron with heavy metal and brass locks.
The bank manager pulled out a large contraption of dark wood with brass escutcheon, the metalwork intricate in the small details, brass numbers on ebony buttons. Once he was finished, he nodded to Luke and left.
The doors closed, and outside, the wheel turned. O
nce the lock latched, Luke put the bags down on the floor.
“Luke?” Jessie asked nervously.
His mouth twisted into something not quite a smile. “Don’t worry. I’ve got this.”
He picked up the hand receiver and held it to his ear. Punched in a series of buttons and the device chattered and whirred. After a time, he said, ‘Forty-five eighteen. Connection needed.” He paused for about thirty seconds. “Forty-five eighteen. One, seven, four, two, nine. Extraction from Fort Bastion, with passenger.” A pause, followed by more chattering. “Immediate. Will await instructions...” More whirring. “Yes.”
Gears whined and clicked, and in her mind’s eyes, she could see how they linked together.
He returned the hand receiver to its cradle. Weary eyes met hers, and his lopsided smile made her heart squeeze inside her chest.
“And?” she asked.
“And we wait.” He took a key from the pocket of his vest and opened one of the many safe deposit boxes lining the walls. He handed her a packet of papers, took some out for himself, and opened his jacket to put them in his breast pocket.
The jacket fell away for the briefest moment, and she glimpsed the bright red stain spattering his white shirt.
“Luke?”
He hastily closed his jacket. “It’s fine.”
“Listen to me. If you need a doctor, we need to find you one. I’m sure they have them here.” She put her hand on his arms.
He shook her off. “They do, and if it were only me, I’d chance it.” His eyes met hers. “But it’s not just me.”
“Look, if you need help, we’ll stop and get it.” He’d do no less for her.
“No.” He clenched his jaw, though she couldn’t tell if he did it because he was angry or to hide the fact his teeth chattered. He stalked up to her, and threaded his hands into her hair. “I’m not stopping until I know you’re safe.”
Jessie’s face felt tight, pinched. She couldn’t hide her concern, so she didn’t bother to try. “If you die…”
“Not dyin’, Jess.”
She took a kerchief from the pocket of her dress and mopped his damp forehead.
He scowled and turned away.
She dropped her hand. “Well, if you did, I’d be put out.”
“You sayin’ you’d miss me?” The humor had left his eyes.
The telephone rang shrilly, and she jumped, startled by the sound.
Luke picked it up. “Go.” He wrote down a series of numbers and replaced the receiver. He nodded to her. “C’mon.”
“Where are we going to go?” She motioned to the vault door. “We’re locked in.”
“You of all people should know there’s always another way out.” He punched in another series of numbers into the phone, and the device answered by whirring to life, gears shifting and clicking into place. Luke turned and pressed some of the safe deposit boxes lining the wall.
She had the vague thought that the gears needed to be oiled when an entire panel swung open, revealing a long, curving staircase that descended into darkness. Her father would have approved.
Plucking the kerchief from her hand, Luke wiped down the telephone. Then he pulled a lever and gears ground and cranked. He lit a hand-held gas lamp and handed it to her, picked up their bags and swung them over his shoulder. His eyes creased at the corner, the faintest acknowledgment of pain. He moved to pick up the last satchel.
She took it from him. Holding it by the straps, she gave it a firm tug. “Let go.”
Eventually, he released the bag.
“Give me another.”
He held her gaze for a long time.
“Bossy,” he muttered, but handed her another bag.
“Yeah, well, if you fall, we’re both in trouble, so you can thank me later.” She turned and descended down the stairs, pretending not to know that his giving her one of the bags was more of an acknowledgement of his condition than his words could ever be. They left so much unsaid in the spaces between their words. All the things existing between them they recognized but wouldn’t speak of.
Things they could never speak of.
They descended down that long, curving staircase into the dark. At the end was a doorway, and she stood aside to allow Luke to open the door. Bright sunlight streamed into the windowless passage. The light blinded her and she hesitated, and once her eyes adjusted, she found Luke had already started toward an airship and was several yards ahead of her.
His long strides ate up the ground, and she struggled to catch up. He waved an arm, and a man wearing a dark uniform climbed down from the airship platform and beckoned to him. Men on either side of the airship released the tethers holding the massive beast to the ground, and electricity sparked as the airship lifted a few feet off the ground, nearly pulling free of the platform as it attempted premature liftoff. Angry shouts from the base of the platform filled the air, as men fought to keep the airship in place.
No, no, no. She’d never make it in time.
A uniformed man took Luke’s bag from him and helped him climb the platform. Another man came running out to Jessie, grabbed her bags, and jerked her savagely up the stairs to the platform before tossing both Jessie and her bags into the belly of the airship.
He slammed the door shut behind him, blotting out the light. “We weren’t expecting passengers. You’ll have to make do in the cargo hold. You’ll want to strap in.”
Before he’d finished speaking, the engines whirred and a sense of vertigo washed over her as the airship left the ground. Faint lights flickered overhead as she blinked a few times to clear her head and found Luke lying on his back a few yards away.
Kneeling next to him, she placed a hand on his chest. His new shirt was damp, a dark stain across it. “Let me see what you’ve done.”
He caught her hand in his, the first movement she had seen him make since they’d boarded. “No. It’s too dark in here.” He pushed himself up onto his elbows and rubbed his face wearily. “Help me up.”
Jessie did as he asked, and he buckled himself in with quick efficiency. Motioning to the seat next to him, he helped her strap herself in to the odd little seats. They sat in silence for a time as she tried to get over the vertiginous, weightless sensation that permeated the ship as the airship defied gravity and maneuvered in the sky.
She must have fallen asleep, because the next thing she knew, she was being jabbed in the side. Hard.
“Wake up,” a voice said gruffly.
“Luke?” she asked, her mind fuzzy. Light spilled into the compartment, too bright, and her eyes watered from the glare.
“Get off. We’re unloading.” She unstrapped herself and stood up on wobbly legs, only to have her bags shoved into her hands.
“Luke?” Jessie asked again.
“Already off.”
She looked out the door only to see Luke being carried away on a stretcher, his face so pale it was almost gray.
His hand fell from his chest and dangled there. Limp. Lifeless.
“No!” The anguished word burst from her lips in a voice she barely recognized as hers.
Jessie dropped the bags and ran after them, but by the time she’d descended from the airship, Luke had already been loaded into the back of a black, steam-powered carriage. She chased after them, banging on the back of the cab with her bare hands until strong arms encircled her and pulled her back.
“No! Luke! No!”
“No, lass,” a gravelly Scottish burr said. “You canno’ go where he is goin’.”
“But we’re travelling together! I’m with him!” She looked up at the Scotsman, a giant of a man with flaming red hair and a beard to match, dressed in a dark uniform. A silver badge was pinned to his vest pocket.
“You are not his concern anymore.”
“You don’t understand! I’m with him!”
The Scotsman harrumphed. “Give me your papers.”
She blinked, her protest temporarily stolen from her mouth. “Wh-what?”
“Papers.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Look, take me to Luke. We’ll get this cleared up. I’m with him.”
“Papers, lass. You’re either a stowaway or you’ve got papers and I’ll take you someplace safe. No papers, and it’s into the lock-up you’ll go.”
“Wh-why do I need papers?” She shook her head and continued with her train of thought. Hard to do when one considered she had slept only a few minutes in the last twenty-four hours—and everything that had happened in between. “Please, take me to him.”
The giant Scotsman took handcuffs from his belt and roughly cuffed her wrists together. “You must ken, rules must be followed. No papers, you go to lock-up.”
Jessie stared at him, her mouth hanging open like a fish out of water, until she flashed back to the bank and to the papers Luke had handed her.
“No, wait!” she cried. “I have papers! Just let me get them.”
The Scotsman gave an exasperated nod and she went back to where her bags had been unceremoniously dumped on the ground. She rummaged around in the pack and found the papers. He joined her, looming over her in his big, dark uniform.
Jessie straightened and handed him the papers she hadn’t had the time to examine. She watched his face carefully as he scanned them, then looked around her.
A completely different skyline greeted her.
The airship station was in a big valley, flanked on either side by rugged mountains. Not barren like they had been in Fort Bastion, not desert. No, these mountains were more like the Sierra Nevada, their rocky, snow-covered spines covered with trees and reaching for the heavens.
“Where… where am I?” she whispered.
Scotty uncuffed her.
Somewhere beneath his flaming beard, he smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. Suddenly, he pulled her into his arms and covered her mouth with a cloth. “Welcome to Deseret.”
The world went dark.
Chapter Seventeen
Blood pounded in his temples, and Luke groaned as he opened eyes gritty and hazy from sleep.
Jessie's War (Civil War Steam) Page 19
