“No time, explain on the job!” Aliyah called. “Because change number two! Without a shield, our automated mechanisms have started to corrode. That means we have to button everything up by hand! Now! Less standing around, more getting to business! Move out!”
The solid-looking storm drew closer by the second. Now Shiloh could see individual ghosts flying through the air. Some were shapeless blurs, some looked like skeletal horses or birds of prey—or dragons.
“Don’t worry.” Annie grinned as she ran past, looking actually excited to face the terrifying maelstrom. She held something like a missile launcher but with an enormous bulb at the end of its barrel. “This is gonna be fun.”
Shiloh followed Jay around the main mast in the middle of the FireRunner’s deck. It anchored most of the solar sails, along with their complex network of metal cords. The sails were slowly closing themselves, as if the ship were curling up defensively. Jay hurried to the ring-shaped plastic tank that encircled the mast’s base.
“First stop, everybody grab some oxygen,” he said, passing out masks similar to the ones people wore in Parole. Instead of only filtering out smoke or toxic gas, these were connected to small personal oxygen tanks that strapped securely around the waist and shoulders. They also had an attached earpiece and microphone. “And switch your headsets to public. Stay on it as much as you can unless you really need a private line. Maintaining voice contact is good, nobody knowing if you need help is bad.”
“Don’t we need suits or something?” Shiloh asked, worried at the minimal protection.
“If we were closer to the center, yeah,” Jay explained, securing his mask and headset. “But the air isn't toxic enough out here to bother your skin. Just don't breathe it in. Lungs and insides are another story.” Next, Jay began passing out what looked like climbing harnesses, like the one Rowan wore to run up the side of the last beacon. “Second step, everybody into a harness. Police your lifelines, keep them neat, no tangles.”
“Masks and lines secured?” Aliyah asked from behind her own. Unlike everyone else, she wasn’t wearing a safety harness. Shiloh immediately realized why when her huge wings unfurled behind her.
“Yes, Captain—sorry,” Shiloh nodded, glad for the mask that hid xir blush. “I’m just—it’s…” Xie looked back up at the wall of storm.
“Deep breaths,” she reassured. “There’s plenty of good, clean oxygen. You’re doing fine. Just relax, safety first, and we’ll get through this all right.”
“Aliyah,” Rowan said quietly and she turned to see them standing behind her, the only one not hurrying to fulfill her orders, because she hadn’t given any. “How about me?”
She hesitated, then reached out to put both hands on Rowan’s shoulders. “Stay by the comm line. We need someone in contact with Radio Angel, in case anything else goes wrong.”
They just looked at her for a moment, then slowly nodded, eyes dropping to the ground. “Aye-aye.”
“I meant what I said before, Lamb.” Aliyah spread her wings to their full span, turning to leap into the tossing sky. At the last second she looked back, face softening. “Hang on. Nothing lasts forever.”
Rowan gave a tired smile as she lifted off. “Not even storms.”
Aliyah’s powerful wings battled the winds as she leapt from sail to sail, ensuring that each was furling closed correctly. From high up on the mast, she had an extensive vantage point of the entire ship and kept an eye on everyone’s operations.
Down the length of the ship, Annie pounded up the stairs to the highest deck. Vaulting up over the last few steps, she dropped down to kneel beside the metal railing, resting her large flash-gun barrel on it for stability. She put her eye to the aiming scope and followed the storm as it bore down on the ship, and the things leaping inside.
They seemed curious about the ship, but mostly kept their distance. Until one ventured away from the group, swooping down toward her—and she fired a blast of light. It didn’t hit the ghost directly; instead the sky lit up as if lightning had struck. The ghosts shrieked and scattered away from the light, fleeing in all directions. Throwing her head back, Annie yelled that yeah, they better run, and loaded up another volley.
* ☆ *
“Just keep close to me,” Stefanos called to Indra, giving his lifeline a tug to ensure it was tightly secured. He looked over the edge and stretched out his metal hand to point at a row of open vents, just below the lip of the deck. Someone would have to hang over the edge to reach them. “See those grates down there? They’re vents for air and water, they connect to the tanks.”
“Yeah,” Indra said, fear making his voice tight. “We gotta close those, right?”
“I do. You don’t have to worry about them,” Stefanos reassured him, voice and stance steady. He positioned himself so he was standing upwind of Indra, huge body taking the brunt of the gale-force winds. “I’m going to rappel down there and close every one of them tight. We wouldn’t have to worry about this if our shields were operational. But we do what we gotta.”
“Sounds safe enough!” Indra shouted over the noise, face tensed into a grimace. “What do you need me to do?”
“Just spot me,” Stefanos answered with a smile, golden eyes glinting as he watched Indra visibly relax. “Keep an eye out, make sure I’m still there, and give a shout to one of the others if I’m not!”
“Okay.” Indra nodded, watching as the huge man heaved himself over the railing and started to descend. “Um, I’ll be here. Anything else I can do to help?”
BANG. The world flashed bright as Annie fired off another halogen round at a ghost that had gotten too bold. Indra stared, unable to look away from the dark shapes and twisting cyclones that seemed to reach out toward them, threatening to wrap around the ship and swallow it up.
Stefanos stopped climbing over the railing and came back, big hands on Indra’s thin shoulders. “You all right?”
“Fine!” Indra yelped, voice unnaturally high. “Yes, I’m fine. Fine!”
Stefanos didn’t seem convinced. “If you need to get out of here, just—”
“No!” Indra shook his head, took a step back. “No. I want to help. Please, let me stay. I’m good for something.” He gasped, shut his mouth so fast he bit his tongue. “I mean, I’m good, I’m fine.”
Somehow Stefanos’s cold alloy eyes were warm. “You can do this. Don’t look up at the storm. Annie’s got us, the ghosts can’t hurt you. And don’t look down. Jay and Shiloh have the other end of your lifeline. You won’t fall. So just keep your eyes on me. Can you do that?”
“Yeah. Got it.” Indra pointed two fingers at his eyes, then up at Stefanos’s metal ones. “Just. Keeping the eyes on you.”
“Good. This won’t take long.” Stefanos gave him a last nod, then climbed over the edge. Indra watched him go and held on tight to the railing to keep his hands from shaking.
* ☆ *
Across the deck, Shiloh was finding it hard to stand still and wait. Despite the vital importance of watching the lifelines and emergency oxygen supplies, there wasn’t much to do except stay ready and watch. Everyone had their jobs and Shiloh’s didn’t start until someone ran into trouble. It was somehow boring and nervewracking at the same time.
(“Turn out the light…”)
“What?” Shiloh jumped, looking around wildly for the source of the words sending shivers down xir spine.
(Icarus,) the voice said. (Turn out the lights.)
Shiloh couldn’t move. Couldn’t think. Xie only remembered the rest of the world—and the storm—existed when Jay almost bumped into xir, actually knocked off-kilter by a particularly strong gust of wind.
“Sorry,” he said as he regained his balance. “This is one of the windiest I’ve ever seen. You doing okay?”
“Did you—?” Xie stared at Jay, unable to put xir anxiety into words.
“What?” he asked, eyebrows raised in confusion. “I didn’t say anything.”
“I know!” xie said, switching to his private
channel. Xie couldn’t say why but xie just didn’t want to broadcast this. “I mean, did you hear that?”
“Didn’t hear anything either. I mean, I hear a lot of things, the storm, Annie shooting off—”
“No, I mean the voice!” Finally, Shiloh’s real fear clicked into place. “It sounded like Mom!”
“It…” Now it was Jay’s turn to stare in slowly dawning horror. “What’d she say?”
“Icarus, turn out the lights, same thing the ghosts keep saying! So it’s gotta be a ghost, right? It can’t be her—can it?”
Jay was nervously scanning the churning skies above and didn’t answer. Then he switched his radio to public frequency, broadcasting his voice not only to Shiloh but everyone. “Aliyah?”
“Yes, you’ve got me.” Aliyah was currently 50 feet above the deck but everyone heard her loud and clear.
“Might want to keep an eye out for any ghosts who get too adventurous.”
“As we speak!” Aliyah carefully made her way along a thick crossbeam, wings pressed down against her back to keep from catching the wind.
“No, I mean look extra hard. We just heard something weird, might be ghosts getting salty.”
“Right, message received. Stay sharp.”
“As we speak.” Jay shut off the connection and turned back to Shiloh. “See? Everything under control.”
* ☆ *
Aliyah reached the central mast and paused in the crow’s nest, taking advantage of both its shelter from the tearing wind and its unbroken panoramic view. From here she could see the whole ship from end to end, a good place to check on her crew’s lockdown progress and scan for any ghostly forms that didn’t belong.
The solar sails were wrapped up and secure. Down near the aft, Stefanos and Indra were around halfway through sealing the top-deck air vents. Annie waved from the far end, sitting in the bow and catching her breath during what looked like a lull in the surrounding ghost frenzy. Not one had come anywhere near breaking through.
Nothing to explain what Shiloh had heard.
“Everything’s looking ship-shape from up here,” Aliyah called. “Knock on most tentatively-optimistic wood. Rowan? How’s the weather down there?”
“Windy,” Rowan called back. “But we should be in the eye pretty soon. If we—”
They stopped mid-sentence, staring at the grey, shadowy figure standing straight, tall, and very still on the top deck’s metal railing.
The man in the storm should have been tossed instantly overboard. Instead, he stayed perfectly balanced on the narrow rail without the help of wings, ropes, or anything else. At the very least, the wind should have torn at his long overcoat and long hair, but they both stayed still. All of him did. It was as if he were standing in his own calm room, away from the gale, away from the chaos and the ghosts, away from the entire world.
His back was turned and there was no color in his form, only monochrome grey and stark black and white. But there was no mistaking him.
“Ash?” Rowan’s whisper was choked with tears.
Slowly, the ghost turned. Rowan knew him long before before his face came into view. They didn't need to see this man’s face to know him here, or in a burning city, in dreams, or any other world. He’d always been there before, standing beside them in their darkest hours, and here he was again--or at least something wearing his face. A human face, with dark, deeply alien eyes.
“God…” Rowan breathed and then their breath started to come faster until they visibly swayed on the deck.
The ghost with Ash Price’s face slowly tilted his head until it hung at a quizzical angle, staring as Rowan slowly stepped closer. Like all ghost eyes, this one’s were black, but these empty hollows were nothing like Rowan’s eyes. He stretched out his hand—the one with only four fingers—and Rowan did the same. The distance closed between them and within seconds, Rowan’s hand slipped into his. At the contact, Rowan’s face twisted, their own eyes closing and mouth opening in a silent grimace. But instead of pulling away, Rowan stepped carefully up onto the railing.
“Why are you doing this?” Rowan whispered, several kinds of pain filling their voice. “What do you want?”
(What…you want,) Ash’s voice returned. It might have been an answer, or an echo.
“You’re not him.” Rowan shook their head, panting and shaking. They finally let go of the burning hand and clutched their own, injured one to their chest. “Are you alive? What are you? Tell me!”
The black eyes held Rowan’s gaze, staring. Then the specter of Ash Price opened his mouth to speak from beyond the grave.
A bloodcurdling howl split the air. They both looked up in time to see Toto-Dandy hurtling toward them, metal fangs bared. Rowan scrambled backwards on the narrow metal bar, hooves quickly re-balancing them on the railing. The giant wolf leaped for the ghost—and seemed to have miscalculated, because he hit the railing at an awkward angle. Unable to reconnect in time, Dandy narrowly avoided slamming into Rowan, but the miss was near enough he brushed against them. He sprang away from the railing and turned, snarling and ready for another lunge, but stopped with an almost human look of shock.
Rowan teetered wildly on the railing, reaching out desperately for something to grab, but finding nothing but empty air. They’d been knocked too far off their precarious balance to recover, and now they began to tip over the edge—
Until the Ash-ghost reached out and caught them, but not by the hand. His spectral hand was wrapped around Rowan’s neck. Their face contorted in a silent scream and the ghost tilted his head and frowned, looking confused at Rowan’s distress.
The keening shriek of a bird of prey came from above. Aliyah’s face contorted in horror as she dove, arms outstretched. She plummeted like a thunderbolt, diving through the storm so fast they could almost hear the whip-crack of her wings slicing the air. “Let them go!”
The hand opened. Rowan slipped over the edge without a sound. Without hesitation, Aliyah followed.
The ghost who looked like Ash Price stood on the railing with stunned bewilderment on his borrowed face, staring at the empty space where Rowan had stood a moment ago. Then the edges of his form started to distort, like a thin layer of oily smoke.
(S…orry.) Then he was gone.
“No!” Jay’s voice rang out, desperate and choked despite his easy supply of oxygen. He almost fell to his knees in his frenzied scramble across the deck and reached the railing a half-second later, catching himself against it and desperately looking over the side…
Only to immediately stumble away, nearly falling over backwards. Aliyah’s huge, golden wings flared as she shot upwards, like a dolphin breaching the ocean’s surface, and she wasn’t alone. Rowan hung in her arms, limp and very still.
“What happened?” Annie pounded up beside Shiloh, staring at the scene in horror.
“Just keep them off her!” Jay shouted, reaching out for Aliyah as she hovered. Her teeth were gritted and hands balled into fists in Rowan’s clothes, every fiber of her being focused on keeping them aloft. Her small frame and mostly-hollow bones weren’t at all designed to lift much of anything, much less a person bigger than she was. But, fortunately, her powerful wings were. They flapped with all the strength Aliyah could muster, slamming back and forth to keep herself and Rowan steady in the howling winds.
Shiloh just had time to wonder what Jay meant by ‘them,' before it became horribly clear. The Ash-ghost was far from alone. Small, smoke-edged figures surged up from below, flights zigzagging and erratic; it looked like they’d been whipped up into a frenzy by the storm. Flashes of light erupted as Annie fired off flashbang rounds, scattering ghosts before they got too close.
“Hey, all of you!” Jay pointed at Shiloh and Annie, who stood together, frozen in horror, as Indra joined them. “Help me get further out there!” They rushed to comply, holding him steady as he leaned out far over the guard rail, stretching out both arms. “Come on, Aliyah! Drop Rowan on me, then get down here!”
She inched
closer, buffeted by the gale-force winds and shadowy shapes as ghosts swarmed around them both like sharks that had caught the scent of blood. With Annie’s covering fire, she slowly drew level with Jay’s outstretched arms. Finally they were close enough to lock eyes, silently communicate the vectors, the precision timing it would take to safely transfer Rowan, then get Aliyah safely landed—
A stray ghost flew into Aliyah’s face. When it ripped away, it took her oxygen mask with it.
Her mouth fell open in shock—and she couldn’t help sucking in a tiny gasp, pure instinct and reflex. The breath was small, but in this storm, one small breath was all it took. Aliyah’s wings faltered and they started to dip.
“Just a little closer!” Jay’s voice shook almost as badly Aliyah’s wings. Annie was still firing photo-rounds rapidly, but it was too late. She was out of targets anyway. True to their name, they seemed to have faded into thin air. “Keep trying—please!”
But it was too much. Aliyah couldn’t keep both herself and a full-grown adult airborne. Feathers trailing, she dropped below the surface of the deck and out of sight, taking Rowan with her.
Everyone stared in silent, paralyzed terror. Now none of them could breathe.
Then, an arm reached up over the edge of the FireRunner’s windswept deck and grabbed onto the railing. An arm made of metal. In his other strong arm, Stefanos held Aliyah and Rowan, safe and sound.
“Yes!” Indra yelled, reaching out to grab his wrist. “I got you! I got you all!” Laughing, or maybe crying, he dug in his heels to pull them up and the image might have been funny if it wasn’t so dangerous—slight, skinny Indra desperately trying to heave the enormous Stefanos carrying two other people up over the edge. “But we could use a little help!”
Annie was there in an instant. Shiloh and Jay charged forward, grabbing ahold too, and together they all pulled Stefanos, Rowan, and Aliyah safely onto the deck. Stefanos rolled onto the flat of his back, exhausted from exertion and adrenaline. The first person he saw when he looked up was Indra and his golden eyes crinkled into a smile.
The Lifeline Signal Page 33
