Lindsay Buroker - Hunted

A tiny brazier burned on the deck of afoot-long model ship, sending hot air into an oblong patchwork ofkerchiefs sealed with a custom paraffin concoction. The balloonexpanded until it bulged like an overstuffed sausage casing. Theminiature ship rocked on the workbench twice, then rose. Inch byinch, it levitated into the air.

A spool on the deck played out telephone wirethat attached to a small control box. Kali McAlister wore a grinbrighter than the Northern Lights as she picked it up.

She glanced toward the windows at the frontof the workshop. The door was locked and the shutters pulled, butsomeone wondering why her tinkery was closed might press a noseagainst a crack….

“Don’t be paranoid,” she told herself. Dawsonmight have a bustling population compared to Moose Hollow, but shehad not been open for business long, and she was lucky to get acustomer a day.

Kali flicked one of the four tiny levers onthe control box.

A signal pulsed through the telephone wire,and a click sounded inside the hull of the ship. Powered by a flakeof flash gold, the miniature engine thrummed to life. Delightcoursed through Kali, but anxiety as well. Lots of people suspected she had flash gold, her dead father’s alchemicalmasterpiece, but only her former beau, Sebastian, and her businesspartner, Cedar, knew for sure. If anyone caught a glimpse…

“This is necessary,” she told herself. “Youcan’t build the real thing without constructing a working modelfirst.”

Right. That sounded like a plausible excuse.Anyway, the hull of the ship hid the telltale flash of the vibrantenergy source.

With the engine purring like a kitten fat onmilk, the model floated higher. Kali flicked another lever. Therudder turned, and the ship changed direction, veering away fromthe wall and out over her collection of disassembled boilers,half-built projects, and crates of brass, steel, and iron parts. Itlofted toward the back corner of the building, skimming beneathceiling beams decorated with cobwebs and owl pellets. Theex-fur-storage warehouse wasn’t posh, but at least the rent wascheap.

The shop door creaked open, and nippy springair swirled in, smelling of wood smoke, melting snow, and yeastfrom the brewery next door.

“Tarnation,” Kali cursed under herbreath.

She turned, hoping it was Cedar. It wasnot.

When she identified the well-dressed man whostepped through the doorway, her hand clenched the control box sotightly she nearly broke one of the levers.

The clean-shaven man wore a tailored blacksuit, a green silk vest, and a creamy button-down shirt with fancystitching about the collar. A sleek, beaver-fur top hat perchedabove a mane of thick blond hair that fell straight to hisshoulders. His clear green eyes and easy smile could dazzle alady…until that lady wised up and realized he was a con man. Acon man who could make love to a woman and promise to help herescape the frozen North, all the while scheming to get at her mostprized possession.

Kali forced her grip on the control box toloosen so she could turn off the engine. No need to flaunt thatprized possession.

“Sebastian,” she growled through clenchedteeth. “How’d you get in? I locked that door.”

“Did you?” He slipped something that mighthave been lock picks or a skeleton key into a pocket, then sweptthe hat from his head and bowed deeply. “Kali, dear, how areyou?”

“How am I?” She gaped at him. “How am I?”

Though she had turned off the model’s engine,the fire still burned, and the unattended airship smacked into awall. Cursing, Kali raced to the corner and caught it before itfell to the floor. As it was, the wire tangled, creating a mess shewould have to unravel later. She dumped out the coals in thebrazier and laid the model on her workbench.

“You lied to me, tried to steal my father’slife’s work, and then, when I wouldn’t give it to you, you rattedme out to Soapy Smith and the Scar of Skagway.” Kali slid a handinto a cubby beside the workstation. “Now I’m being hunted morefiercely than the beaver that died for your idiotic hat. And youwant to know how I am ?” Her fingers closed about cold steel,and she pulled out her favorite weapon.

“Yes, dear, I’m terribly sorry about that.”Sebastian flipped those blond locks out of his eyes and replacedthe top hat. “I was a tad angry at the time. After all, you threwone of those smoking shrapnel gewgaws and nearly unmanned me. Canyou imagine the egregious horror it would be to my family-andmankind as a whole-if I were not able to one day have chil…” Hisrambling nonsense came to a halt when he noticed what Kaliheld.

She stood ramrod straight with her modifiedWinchester 1873 aimed at his chest. “I reckon I can still make sureyou don’t have any children.”

“Ah, Kali, dear.”

“Don’t call me dear.”

“Ah, yes, Kali, then.”

“Ms. McAlister,” she said. “Or ma’am will do.Though you needn’t use either, since I’m inviting you to seeyourself out and not bother me again. Ever.”

“Now, now.” He patted the air with his hands.Between the kerosene lamps burning indoors and the daylight seepingthrough the clouds outdoors, she had no trouble seeing hisperfectly manicured nails with not a hint of dirt crusting thebeds. “I made a mistake, and I can admit to that. I apologize. Iwas in my cups and, like I said, recovering from the wounds youinflicted upon me. It really isn’t right to target a man down inthat region, you know.”

Her finger tightened on the trigger of therifle.

He was close enough to see it. “Er, like Iwas saying, I came to apologize. You must know I didn’t mean forthose gangsters to hear about you. I didn’t go to them, Iassure you. I was just expressing my displeasure over how thingsended.”

“In a crowded bit house with dozens of earsperked your direction,” Kali said.

“Well, that was a tad unwise, for certain,but it’s all a misunderstanding. There’s no reason we can’t get ontogether again.” He dared to eye her up and down. “You’re stilllooking mighty fine.”

Kali gaped at him. She wore baggy,grease-stained overalls with tools bristling from every pocket andmore gear dangling from her belt. A screwdriver was stuck throughthe end of her long braid, and sawdust sprinkled her hair, thanksto the final planing she had given the deck of the airshipearlier.

“Why don’t you just tell me what you want?”Kali asked. “I’m not the naive girl who fell for your glacier-slicktongue before. I’m older now. Wiser. Mature.”

“Mature? You’re eighteen, and it’s only beenfour months since I left you.”

“I left you . And nearly blew up yournuts.” She jerked the rifle toward the door. “Now go away.”

“What? You just invited me to tell you what Iwant.”

“That was a rhetorical question, not aninvitation.” Kali sighted down the rifle’s barrel.

“You’re not going to shoot me. You’re a goodperson.”

She fired.

Sebastian squawked, hurled himself backward,and landed in the muddy quagmire of thawing permafrost outside thedoor. In an ungainly combination of roll and sideways scramble, hedodged behind the protective cover of the wall.

With the rifle raised, another roundautomatically chambered, Kali waited for the inevitable return.

A couple of heartbeats passed-she imaginedhim patting himself down for bullet wounds, despite the lack ofpain he had to have noticed-and then another distressed squawkcompeted with the distant buzz of a sawmill.

“My hat?” Sebastian leaned around thedoorframe. Mud spattered his suit, his hair, and smudged his jaw.He thrust his top hat aloft, displaying the daylight now visiblethrough a bullet hole. “That was a little reckless, don’t youthink?” Though he tried for nonchalance, the way he kept most ofhis body out of sight meant he was no longer positive she wouldn’tshoot him. Good.