Coyle and Fang: Curse of Shadows (Coyle and Fang Adventure Series Book 1) Robert III (first color ebook reader txt) 📖

pillar trailed behind. She shifted her focus and found another pod, and there, just to the right, another.

She found consolation in the cluster of flying craft. They were together, even in the air. Her new teammates, all of them experiencing the same things as her. Renewed confidence slowly surfaced and began to push away the dark thoughts.

The craft shifted direction. The movement was subtle. Gentle. And then her eyes found the massive airship hanging in the clouds. The Dawn’s Edge grew larger, more real and less like a phantom. She focused on the ship above. As long she kept her eyes on the goal, she would reach the bay safely and in one piece with everyone else.

It’s almost over.

A nagging gleam in the sky caught her attention. Her gaze shifted to the cluster of pods. One of the tubes was shuddering.

Chapter 17

She squinted. Was it just the normal movement of the craft? Or more tricks of her imagination? She gasped as gray smoke streamed out of the windows before the pod spun and veered sharply to the left and out of view. Her eyes frantically searched the sky, but she couldn’t find it. She waved at the pilot.

“There’s something wrong with the tube!” she said.

“What?” one of them said.

She pointed just as the sky erupted in fire and black smoke. The destroyed tube spun like a flaming top with plumes of dark spiral rings pouring out. She watched in horror as the craft slammed into another pod, sending both out of control.

Someone shouted, and Coyle looked over. One of their emergency canvas bags was smoking.

What’s happening?

One of the men pulled himself out of the harness, grabbed the bag, and shoved it through the small window.

WHAM!

A violent explosion shook her bones and reduced her hearing to a high-pitched whine. The hatch ripped open. Metal debris flew and clattered against the inside of their pod. She squeezed her eyes shut and screamed.

Her body pressed to the side, and nausea flooded her belly as she gripped the handles.

I’m going to die in a coffin in the sky.

Bitter, freezing air rushed inside, clawing through her leathers. Her eyes opened to a dark-red blur. She wiped her goggles, smearing red across the lenses. A quick glance at her fingers proved her worst fear. She wiped again but wished she hadn’t. There was blood everywhere.

She looked at the others. The pilot’s head was torn to pieces. Long streaks of crimson crept slowly along the metal walls. The other crew member wrestled the controls out of the pilot’s hands. She tugged her goggles down around her neck and glanced out the window. They were almost alongside the ship, but fast approaching the top, far away from the landing bay below.

“We have to slow down!” she screamed.

“The speed dampener won’t respond! If we cut the propulsion, we’ll fall!” he shouted back.

Another violent collision shook them. She gasped as light and shadow flashed through the open hatch. Her eyes were glued to the chaos.

The pod’s steam engines whistled and popped as the craft bounced before slowing to a stop on the soft canvas of the airship. She lay sideways along the wall, her body straining against the straps. Squinting through the bright sun pouring in, she realized they were resting near the top of the huge dirigible. Huge steering vanes were at the far end, dark and jagged against the cloudy sky. The surviving soldier disconnected his harness and dropped to the floor.

“Stay there, miss. I’ll have a look.” He pulled himself out of the tube and the pod tilted just enough to make her heart jump.

“Get out,” he said. “Pull yourself out of the harness. Quickly!”

Her hands trembled, and the clasp refused to come apart.

“Quickly, miss.” He looked behind him.

The buckle finally came undone, and a gentle rocking made her stop.

“No, keep moving. Get out of the tube!” he shouted.

She grabbed the opening and noticed the crewman walking alongside the craft.

We’re sliding!

He reached inside. “Take my hand!”

Their hands grasped each other, and he tugged her out onto the dark-gray skin of the airship, but her foot was yanked back. She looked down at a tangle of rope around her leg and cried out.

“Hold on,” he said. “I’ve got a knife.”

She lost her balance and fell onto the soft canvas. He grabbed a handful of coiled rope and cut the edge closest to her. The craft pulled them, and the knife slipped. His fingers grabbed it and resumed cutting.

Her hands reached out, but everything was moving. She rolled onto her stomach, her fingers stretching across the soft canvas until her fingers found the frame. Her fingertips dug into the metal beam until her hands ached, but the pull on her leg was too strong.

“Hurry!” she screamed. Pain shot through her ankle.

“I got it, miss, hold on!” he said.

The strain was too much. She let go, looking over her shoulder at the crewman cutting furiously at the lines. And then her eyes focused on the pod.

It was moving faster now, hurrying away from them. She turned over, pulling at the knotted lines wrapped around her ankle. Her gloved fingers slipped off the rope. Her ankle felt like it would snap like a twig.

The crewman’s left hand jerked. The knots he was holding had wrapped around his own wrist.

They were both trapped.

Coyle watched in horror as the craft dipped and slid out of view. They followed. Faster. Faster toward the edge of the open sky. The crewman’s knife cut the final line, and she spread her hands and feet apart until she slowed to a stop. She glanced down and muttered gratitude.

But he’d cut the wrong end and was still attached to the coils. The knife bounced away, out of reach. He stretched back to her and she leapt toward him and grabbed at his wrist, but the weight of the craft dragged him away. She crawled as fast as she could and lunged. Her fingers grasped his and they held fast. Her other hand tried desperately to hold on to