High Flyer - Michelle Diener Page 0,89
dust into the air.
She coughed and wiped her eyes as she climbed up and then stopped short in the open door.
“What is it?”
She backed down the stairs, jumped the last few to join him on the ground. “Bodies. Bones.” She shuddered.
She couldn't use this runner.
The sound of a shout filtered in from the outside.
“Let's try the ones at the back,” Iver said. “They're more likely to be empty.”
She nodded and let him go ahead with the light. One runner was still clipped into place on the deck, its struts held secure.
“Can you work out how to release those?” she asked Iver as she lowered the stairs.
She almost slumped against the door in relief when she saw there were no bones in this one, and she made her way to the pilot's chair. She wanted to sink into herself, let her upgrade take over, but fear spiked in her chest at the memory of standing frozen and helpless as Iver picked up the beads.
She could sense the apology, the regret, but not for the action, only for the loss of her trust, and she lifted her shoulders up and then let them fall.
It didn't matter now. She had to put her anger and fear aside, and get on with it.
She put her arms forward, touching the panel in front of her, and let her upgrade take control.
She tried to note with her conscious mind exactly what was being touched and swiped and pressed and in what order.
The engine started up.
“I can't find the release for the struts.” Iver's shout came from the top of the runner's steps as he leaned in, and suddenly her arm reached left, and she flipped a switch. The runner lifted up a little, making Iver stagger.
“That did it.” He stepped inside, and the steps folded up and the door closed behind him.
The runner lifted a little higher, making the dried leaves swirl around the flight deck.
But the way out was blocked by the other runners, and when she looked up, she saw there wasn't enough clearance to simply lift up and over them.
“I'm going to have to move the runners aside.” She turned to Iver, and he came forward, looking out at the obstacles in their way.
He obviously came to the same conclusion she had.
“I'll stand guard while you move them.”
She left the engine running, so leaves and dust swirled around her, stinging her eyes, as she exited.
She ran to the closest ship, Iver right behind her, and scrambled inside.
She held her breath as she stepped into what was a tomb now, bones piled together. In the pilot's seat, the bones lay on the seat of the chair and on either side of it, and she leaned across it carefully to start the engine.
She lifted the runner up just off the ground and moved it as far to the left as she could.
When she set it down and jumped back out, she found Iver standing guard at the bottom of the steps, his attention focused on the exit.
“They're there. I've seen them a few times when the turbulence opens the vines a little. All four of them.”
She saw a SAL dart on the ground just past the vines and realized someone had tried to take a shot at him.
“Be careful.” She touched his shoulder, just a quick caress, and ran across to the next runner, checking to see how much she would need to move it.
Once inside, she gritted her teeth at more bones, some that looked like those of children, and when she got the engine going, she angled the runner to the right, nudging the nose right up against the ships on that side.
This time, when she got to the ground again, she saw Iver had something in his hand that looked like a weapon.
She had seen a few of them lying on the ground. He must have figured it was better than nothing.
The men outside would soon work out they had nothing to lose by going on the attack. As soon as she and Iver were in a runner, they would be almost impossible to stop or capture.
Iver let out a shout and activated the weapon in his hand as two of the combat flyers ran through the swaying vines.
The sound it made was like a cough, and she stared at it.
Whatever Iver had done, the effect on the two men was immediate. One fell back with a blossom of blood on his left shoulder, and the other got his hands under his