Read Online A City Called Smoke: The Territory 2 by Justin Woolley - Free Book Online
Authors: Justin Woolley
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he saw Yellow leaning over the side watching him. The first mate smiled a toothy smile and lifted a knife, holding it threateningly against the rope that Melbourne hung from. Melbourne took a deep breath, held on tightly and pushed off the side of the dirigible, wrapping his legs around the rope.
He began sliding down as the other pirates had. As he gained speed the friction from the rope caused his palms to burn, even through the gloves. He winced, clenching his jaw and forcing himself to withstand the pain, knowing that letting go would only send him plummeting to the ground. When there were only a few feet remaining he released his grip on the rope and dropped to the ground, absorbing the impact with his knees.
He looked down at his burning hands. The palms of the gloves had been worn further away, so much so that he could almost see his skin. He wanted to remove the gloves and inspect his fingers and palms, see if they’d been torn or blistered, but he had to ignore the pain, at least for now. He pulled the dagger from his belt and looked up just in time to see a crew member from the Ariel’s Pride coming at him with a sword raised.
The streaks of blood, cakes of thick dust and the scowl of hatred on the man’s face instantly reminded Melbourne of the ghouls, and he was thrown back to that night, the night he had run. This wasn’t a ghoul though. He had to tell himself that. This was a man. This was a man who thought Melbourne was a savage pirate. Part of Melbourne wanted to tell him that he was actually a Digger, that he’d been captured and was only doing this to survive. But then where did that leave him? Either this man killed him right now, or Melbourne did what Captain Pratt had told him to do and he survived. For now. He was Melbourne Hermannsburg. He was the most promising graduate the Academy had ever seen. He had to survive.
As the man swung the sword Melbourne moved, sidestepping and using the smaller blade of his dagger to deflect the blow, letting the other man’s overenthusiastic attack send him off balance. Melbourne’s Academy training kicked in and he turned back, spinning the dagger in his hand and stabbing it into the top of the man’s sword arm. The man’s fingers opened in a reflexive jerk and his sword fell to the ground.
The man cried out and swung wildly with his other fist, but Melbourne leaned back and the man caught nothing but air. Melbourne felt a moment of pity for the desperate man but he regathered himself, pushing the thought aside, and moved forward with his dagger extended. He stabbed it home in the front of the man’s other shoulder. His opponent cried out again, dropping to his knees as Melbourne pulled his weapon free, those vicious serrations doing their work on the man’s flesh.
Melbourne turned and looked up toward the Blessed Mary . Even from here he could see both Yellow and Captain Pratt watching him from the deck.
“Please,” the man said as Melbourne turned back. He was unable to lift either of his arms in a gesture of pleading, though Melbourne could tell he would have if he could. “Don’t.”
Melbourne felt bile rise into his throat. He couldn’t do this, could he? Killing an innocent man was against everything a Digger stood for. It was against everything he thought he stood for. He swallowed hard. But all that was gone now.
“Please,” the crewman of the Ariel’s Pride said again. “I’m just a deckhand.”
Melbourne looked back at the Blessed Mary one more time before he took aim at the man, closed his eyes, and did what he had to do to survive.
CHAPTER 8
The bio-truck rumbled steadily along the road, its engine periodically spluttering with loud pops and groans, so much so that each time it coughed Squid was certain they wouldn’t make it any further. But they had been riding on the bio-truck for two days now, and despite the noises that would suggest otherwise, the truck hadn’t given out yet.
The truck towed three trailers along
He began sliding down as the other pirates had. As he gained speed the friction from the rope caused his palms to burn, even through the gloves. He winced, clenching his jaw and forcing himself to withstand the pain, knowing that letting go would only send him plummeting to the ground. When there were only a few feet remaining he released his grip on the rope and dropped to the ground, absorbing the impact with his knees.
He looked down at his burning hands. The palms of the gloves had been worn further away, so much so that he could almost see his skin. He wanted to remove the gloves and inspect his fingers and palms, see if they’d been torn or blistered, but he had to ignore the pain, at least for now. He pulled the dagger from his belt and looked up just in time to see a crew member from the Ariel’s Pride coming at him with a sword raised.
The streaks of blood, cakes of thick dust and the scowl of hatred on the man’s face instantly reminded Melbourne of the ghouls, and he was thrown back to that night, the night he had run. This wasn’t a ghoul though. He had to tell himself that. This was a man. This was a man who thought Melbourne was a savage pirate. Part of Melbourne wanted to tell him that he was actually a Digger, that he’d been captured and was only doing this to survive. But then where did that leave him? Either this man killed him right now, or Melbourne did what Captain Pratt had told him to do and he survived. For now. He was Melbourne Hermannsburg. He was the most promising graduate the Academy had ever seen. He had to survive.
As the man swung the sword Melbourne moved, sidestepping and using the smaller blade of his dagger to deflect the blow, letting the other man’s overenthusiastic attack send him off balance. Melbourne’s Academy training kicked in and he turned back, spinning the dagger in his hand and stabbing it into the top of the man’s sword arm. The man’s fingers opened in a reflexive jerk and his sword fell to the ground.
The man cried out and swung wildly with his other fist, but Melbourne leaned back and the man caught nothing but air. Melbourne felt a moment of pity for the desperate man but he regathered himself, pushing the thought aside, and moved forward with his dagger extended. He stabbed it home in the front of the man’s other shoulder. His opponent cried out again, dropping to his knees as Melbourne pulled his weapon free, those vicious serrations doing their work on the man’s flesh.
Melbourne turned and looked up toward the Blessed Mary . Even from here he could see both Yellow and Captain Pratt watching him from the deck.
“Please,” the man said as Melbourne turned back. He was unable to lift either of his arms in a gesture of pleading, though Melbourne could tell he would have if he could. “Don’t.”
Melbourne felt bile rise into his throat. He couldn’t do this, could he? Killing an innocent man was against everything a Digger stood for. It was against everything he thought he stood for. He swallowed hard. But all that was gone now.
“Please,” the crewman of the Ariel’s Pride said again. “I’m just a deckhand.”
Melbourne looked back at the Blessed Mary one more time before he took aim at the man, closed his eyes, and did what he had to do to survive.
CHAPTER 8
The bio-truck rumbled steadily along the road, its engine periodically spluttering with loud pops and groans, so much so that each time it coughed Squid was certain they wouldn’t make it any further. But they had been riding on the bio-truck for two days now, and despite the noises that would suggest otherwise, the truck hadn’t given out yet.
The truck towed three trailers along
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