moment, and then tightened up with a thrumming sound. The deck jerked underneath his feet, as the ship slowed down from the effort of dragging the balloon behind it.
He looked up to the ship in the sky. It was continuing to move closer. Clearly there was some sort of mechanical winch on the other end rapidly winding it down toward them.
Emilio tried to think about what he should do next. His peaceful afternoon ride back to Brooklyn had been turned into an assault, and the beautiful blonde girl who had captivated his attention was at the center of it.
Emilio had been caught in the middle of a battle before, and experience had taught him that the best way to stay alive when such things occurred was to try to gather enough information to remain one step ahead of whomever— or whatever—was trying to kill you.
Now that it was coming closer, he could see that the balloon was larger than he had imagined. The steaming gondola that hung directly underneath the massive gas-bag was easily the size of a small house.
The balloon dropped altitude, lowering the angle on the wire, and a man climbed out of a hatch, working his way down to the nose of the gondola. When he reached the end, he attached something to the metal wire and jumped.
“Out of the way sir!” screamed a voice behind him, and a forceful hand shoved him up and away from the stairs, pushing Emilio in one direction, and Viola in another.
A group of seven men boiled up from the stairway and onto the deck. The leader was a policeman, and four uniformed members of the boat's crew followed. The final two were a pair of burly fellows who simply seemed to have decided to lend their fists to the fight against whatever it was that had attacked the ship.
The policeman brandished a gun, and the rest of the men were holding different objects clearly intended to be used as clubs. Some of the crewmen were stained with blood, a sign of the carnage that must be occurring below the deck, where the harpoon had pierced the ship.
The men charged into action. The two civilians immediately began trying to free the ship while the crewmen began directing the women and children down the stairs to safety.
Emilio looked up at the man who was rapidly descending towards them from the balloon. Whatever device he had attached to the wire, it clearly had some kind of brake built into it, and it was letting off an impressive shower of sparks as he slid down toward the boat.
Emilio pointed and shouted. “He's coming to us!”
The policeman looked upward at his yell. He pointed his revolver up at the figure, and there were five quick cracks as the bullets fired. If any of them hit their intended target, they didn't do any visible damage to him.
The policeman brought down the gun and began to reload it. “Let him come,” he said with a well-practiced voice of authority, “we'll deal with him when he land—” An instant later, he collapsed to the deck, a thick silver rod sticking out of his neck.
“Emilio, watch out!” Viola grabbed her brother's hand and pulled him backwards. Losing his balance, he dropped his bag and stumbled down the steep stairs, barely managing to grab the rail before crashing to the lower deck. Viola, who had always been far stronger than she looked, grabbed him around the waist and tried to stop his fall.
Emilio found himself slammed backwards into an iron support beam by the weight of his sister. It crushed the air out of his lungs, and as he gasped for breath he felt a moment of pure terror, his heart feeling like it would explode out of his chest.
From up above them there was a series of whistling noises and a rhythmic “thunk, thunk, thunk” across the surface of the deck. It was followed by the screams of men in pain.
As Emilio's lungs attempted to rediscover their ability to breathe, the scent of gunpowder reached his nostrils. For a moment he contemplated flinging himself and his sister over the side of the boat, plunging into the cold, black waters
He looked up to the ship in the sky. It was continuing to move closer. Clearly there was some sort of mechanical winch on the other end rapidly winding it down toward them.
Emilio tried to think about what he should do next. His peaceful afternoon ride back to Brooklyn had been turned into an assault, and the beautiful blonde girl who had captivated his attention was at the center of it.
Emilio had been caught in the middle of a battle before, and experience had taught him that the best way to stay alive when such things occurred was to try to gather enough information to remain one step ahead of whomever— or whatever—was trying to kill you.
Now that it was coming closer, he could see that the balloon was larger than he had imagined. The steaming gondola that hung directly underneath the massive gas-bag was easily the size of a small house.
The balloon dropped altitude, lowering the angle on the wire, and a man climbed out of a hatch, working his way down to the nose of the gondola. When he reached the end, he attached something to the metal wire and jumped.
“Out of the way sir!” screamed a voice behind him, and a forceful hand shoved him up and away from the stairs, pushing Emilio in one direction, and Viola in another.
A group of seven men boiled up from the stairway and onto the deck. The leader was a policeman, and four uniformed members of the boat's crew followed. The final two were a pair of burly fellows who simply seemed to have decided to lend their fists to the fight against whatever it was that had attacked the ship.
The policeman brandished a gun, and the rest of the men were holding different objects clearly intended to be used as clubs. Some of the crewmen were stained with blood, a sign of the carnage that must be occurring below the deck, where the harpoon had pierced the ship.
The men charged into action. The two civilians immediately began trying to free the ship while the crewmen began directing the women and children down the stairs to safety.
Emilio looked up at the man who was rapidly descending towards them from the balloon. Whatever device he had attached to the wire, it clearly had some kind of brake built into it, and it was letting off an impressive shower of sparks as he slid down toward the boat.
Emilio pointed and shouted. “He's coming to us!”
The policeman looked upward at his yell. He pointed his revolver up at the figure, and there were five quick cracks as the bullets fired. If any of them hit their intended target, they didn't do any visible damage to him.
The policeman brought down the gun and began to reload it. “Let him come,” he said with a well-practiced voice of authority, “we'll deal with him when he land—” An instant later, he collapsed to the deck, a thick silver rod sticking out of his neck.
“Emilio, watch out!” Viola grabbed her brother's hand and pulled him backwards. Losing his balance, he dropped his bag and stumbled down the steep stairs, barely managing to grab the rail before crashing to the lower deck. Viola, who had always been far stronger than she looked, grabbed him around the waist and tried to stop his fall.
Emilio found himself slammed backwards into an iron support beam by the weight of his sister. It crushed the air out of his lungs, and as he gasped for breath he felt a moment of pure terror, his heart feeling like it would explode out of his chest.
From up above them there was a series of whistling noises and a rhythmic “thunk, thunk, thunk” across the surface of the deck. It was followed by the screams of men in pain.
As Emilio's lungs attempted to rediscover their ability to breathe, the scent of gunpowder reached his nostrils. For a moment he contemplated flinging himself and his sister over the side of the boat, plunging into the cold, black waters
Similar Books
