K. Weiland - Storming

“Hey! Let up. You want to wreck us?”

Still hanging onto his arm, she dragged herself across the seat toward him. Her eyes strained for the sky. “Ssh! Engine—turn it off!”

He killed the engine and followed her gaze.

Even without sunlight, he still had to squint against the gray of the sky. “I don’t see anything.”

She leaned halfway over the top of him and pointed. “There.”

He followed her finger.

High above, skating along the bottom of the clouds, something flickered. Halfway across the field, a speck about the size of his thumbnail blinked against the clouds. He squinted harder. He should never have given Walter his field glasses.

“It’s probably a buzzard.”

She gave her head a sharp shake. “No.”

It flashed red and swung around. It didn’t look like a bird circling. More like something swinging.

It was the wing.

He thumped the steering wheel. “Hot dog, girl! I do believe you’re right. Let’s get you out of here and find me a plane!”

They careened back into camp to find Earl overseeing as Matthew and J.W. screwed the new propeller into place. Hitch skidded to a halt in a cloud of dust. In Nebraska, it somehow managed to be dusty even after it rained. He shut off the engine and started to climb out.

Jael grabbed his sleeve and leaned across the seat. “Hitch. I think Zlo would be having desire for airplane. He would want it for protection and attack, yes?”

Hitch didn’t have to think about that for more than a second. “Of course, he would. Who’s gonna be satisfied with a dirigible when you can have a plane too?”

“He would chase after you, I think.” Her eyes sparked with the same excitement that was running all through his body. “If you were only plane he is having sight of—you could lead him to . . .” She gestured with both hands, trying to find the word.

He didn’t need her to say it. “Ambush.”

She grinned and nodded. “I would make you take me, but I can hardly walk when I am in nearness to it.”

He winked at her and squeezed her shoulder. “You’re already a genius. No need to be a hero too.” He slid all the way out and slammed the door. Then he gave caution a good heave into the wind and leaned back over the door, trying to keep a straight face and failing. “You deserve a kiss, but I have to tell you, I don’t want to get myself smacked again.”

Her eyes flashed wide for a second. Then something that might have been a smile tugged at the edges of her mouth.

He turned away before she could respond—either way—and jogged off.

Livingstone had wandered over to observe the Berringers’ work.

Hitch hesitated. If he told Livingstone about this, the man would want in on the hunt. But if every plane in his troupe went roaring out there right now, they’d lose any chance of surprise. Zlo would just rev those big engines—and that big cannon—and disappear again.

Better to leave now without saying anything, and let Earl fill Livingstone in after, so he could get the rest of the pilots ready when Hitch brought Schturming to them.

Hitch angled around to stay out of Livingstone’s line of sight and stopped beside Earl, his back to the plane.

“Finally decided to get up, did you?” Earl said.

“I apologize right now for all the times I groused about you being an early riser.”

Earl looked at him suspiciously. “How’s that?”

“We found Schturming .”

Earl’s eyebrows sprang upwards. “That crazy wing idea worked?”

“Sure did. The plane ready to go?”

“She’ll hold together, I reckon.” Earl cradled his splinted arm and winced. “Where is it anyway?”

“Keep your voice down.” Hitch shot a glance over his shoulder.

Livingstone was already looking their way.

He turned back. “If I’m going to do this right, I need to do it by myself. I’m faster that way and a whole lot less likely to get noticed too soon. I’m going to try to sucker Schturming into following me. Ten minutes after I’m in the air, you tell Livingstone to head out and meet me at the Bluff. I’ll lure it there, and if he’s got enough pilots waiting for it, we can maybe maneuver it into crashing against the crags.”

“You have thought this thing through, right?”

“Of course.”

Earl glared at him. “Of course you have.” His arm must be bothering him. He always got extra cranky when he wasn’t feeling well. “And in all your thinking it through, I’m sure you spent a nice amount of time remembering that if you get this plane shot out of the sky again, all our plans are going to go up in smoke. You lose with Zlo, you lose with Livingstone, you lose with Campbell. And even if they don’t scalp you amongst the three of ’em, you’ll still be stuck here for a good long time. Now, are you telling me you’re sure sticking your neck out for this little hick town is what you want to do?”

If he thought about it, he probably wouldn’t be so sure. So he didn’t think about it. “I’m sure.”

Earl’s grunt didn’t sound too surprised. “Right. Just so we’re clear.” He jutted his chin. “Watch your tail.”

“What?” Hitch turned in time to see Livingstone approach.

The man had a gleam in his eye. “Did I have the good fortune to hear you have accomplished the impossible in discovering our quarry for us?”

“Look, it’s just a one-man mission to start with. Earl will tell you about it.” He eased past Livingstone. “We send any more planes than mine out there, and we could end up with a sack full of nothing.” He pointed at Matthew. “You want to give that propeller a heave when I tell you?”

Livingstone stepped a few paces away and snapped his fingers at one of the kids hanging around the planes. “Rally the pilots. Tell them I want them in the air in five minutes. We’ve found the sky beast.”

Hitch turned on him. “You send twenty planes screaming out there, and Zlo’ll see us coming a mile off.”

“Piffle.” Livingstone turned away, headed for his own plane. “You overestimate yourself, as usual. You’ll need help, and we must stick together.”

“And it’ll look better in the papers, I suppose?”

“Now you’re catching the vision, old boy.” Livingstone gestured to Earl as he passed. “Since that arm unfortunately keeps you from any useful assistance, why don’t you drive on down to the farmhouse and telephone the gentlemen of the press at the Star-Herald and the Courier ?”

Earl watched him go, mouth open. Then he looked at Hitch. “I know we’re supposed to be nice to him. I know I told you to be nice to him. But I hope you win all his publicity away from him, just for the principle of it.”

“I’ll settle for beating him to that field. If I can get enough of a head start on him to get Schturming to think I’m the only one, it might still work.” Hitch clambered into the rear cockpit. “Let’s go!” he shouted—and Matthew spun the engine to life.

ON A FULL tank and with minimal headwind, Hitch gunned the Hisso for all it was worth. The prop chewed through the air and spat the miles back out behind them. He flew low, staying beneath the cloud ceiling and coasting over the ground. He kept one eye on the road, as a guide back to the correct field, and another on the sky. As he cut across the lake, the Jenny bounced a little in the air currents. And then—there she was.

The amputated wing fluttered, a red blot against the clouds. _Schturming_’s keel separated itself from the gray as he raced in close. The wooden planks and their flaking blue paint materialized through the haze. He passed beneath the silent propellers and headed for the bow, where the cargo doors were located.