“Welcome to the
CHAPTER SIX
Captain Hink watched the man take in his surroundings with one quick glance. He figured him for a hunter of some sort—a man with one eye always set toward survival. Figured he knew they were glim harvesters just from the way his gaze lingered over their breathing gear.
The man also took note of, but didn’t seem to worry about, the rest of the crew: Guffin and Ansell up front flying, and Molly helping the two women, one of whom was injured and being settled into a hammock.
Then the man’s eyes slipped back to him. There was something wild in that gaze. Something that made Hink want to have his gun in his hand.
Captain Hink did his own sizing up. Figured he could take him in a fair fight, though he likely wouldn’t be walking away afterward.
“My name’s Cedar Hunt,” he said. “My brother’s been left below.”
“One of those madmen?” Hink asked. Wasn’t every day he saw three men take on a town full of people gone crazy. He’d only once before seen a town rise up so. They’d been bedeviled by the Strange, and there wasn’t a one of them who survived the rising of the next day’s sun.
“No. A wolf.”
Hink pursed his lips and nodded. “A wolf.”
It wasn’t quite a question. But it was most certainly an observation as to Mr. Cedar Hunt’s mental capacities.
“Yes.” Not a glimpse of a smile, not a spark of madness. Nothing but sober hard truth in his voice. “A wolf.”
Captain Hink tucked his wide hands into his belt. “Don’t know that we have fuel enough to stop for him, I’m afraid,” he said. “But if he’s a wolf, as you say, I’m sure he’ll find his way through the countryside without much trouble.”
“That won’t do,” Cedar said. “I won’t leave one of mine behind. You’ll turn this bird around, or I will.”
He didn’t reach for his gun. Neither did the captain. But they got themselves into staring and taking the measure of the other man.
Cedar Hunt did not look like a man that took naturally to laughter. No, he looked like a hard man, driven, with too much sorrow lining his face. He came aboard this ship with two women whom he seemed intent on helping out of a tight situation.
There might be honorable intentions in his actions toward the women, but Captain Hink didn’t think Mr. Hunt would cry a tear over spilling another man’s blood.
He was the sort of man Hink respected. And usually employed.
“You’re serious,” Captain Hink said.
“Always.”
Molly was done getting the injured woman settled and stood right up close to the captain and Mr. Hunt, taking a good hard look at Cedar. Hink appreciated her take on a person’s mettle. He hadn’t thought it much possible, but she was even more jaded than he as a judge of people.
“It’s a pity I can’t help you with your brother—,” Captain Hink began.
“What’s that ring you’re wearing?” Molly asked.
Cedar frowned and lifted his hand, looking down at his finger as if he’d forgotten anything was on it. “Gift from a friend,” he said.
“Your friend have a name?” Molly asked.
“Gregor. Robert Gregor.”
“And where’d you run into this Robert Gregor?” she asked.
“Molly,” Captain Hink said, “I don’t see as it makes any nevermind.”
“Hallelujah, Oregon,” Cedar said. “Blacksmith there.”
Molly turned to her captain. “We let him look for his brother.”
“Like hell we do.”
“He’s got a reason, Captain, and we let him look before we fly out of here.”
“I don’t care if he has an entire encyclopedia full of reasons,” he said. “Who do you think is the captain of this ship?”
“You are, Captain,” she said. “But I ain’t running your boilers if you don’t turn her around and give the man a chance. And you won’t make it over the next hill if the fuel ain’t parceled out right.”
“Oh, for the love of glim,” he said. “Give me one damn reason why you’ve taken such a shine to him.”
“That’s a Gregor ring.”
Captain Hink looked a little closer at the ring. Seemed to have a bear and the mark of flames behind it etched into the gold. It was indeed Molly’s family marking, and looked an awful lot like the ring she wore on her thumb.
One thing about the Gregors. They were a people true to their word, all the way to the last period carved on a gravestone. If someone was wearing their seal, they’d take them in like kith and kin.
It annoyed him to no end.
“Don’t much care if it’s the ring of the president himself,” Hink muttered, rubbing his fingers through his hair, sticking it up before giving it a swipe to smooth most of it down.
He glanced at Molly, who crossed her arms over her chest and stuck her chin out at him.
No arguing with her when she was digging her heels. He growled and turned, striding toward the navigation center, as the ship yawed in the wind.
“Mr. Guffin, Mr. Ansell,” he said. “Turn us due west.”
“Aye, Captain,” both men said.
Seldom just gave him a knowing smile that said Hink had gotten himself whupped by a woman. Again.
“I’ll circle over town and give you one chance to spot this brother of yours,” Hink said to his passenger. “Because Molly Gregor there has taken a like to you and is vouching for your worth. But that’s all I’m going to give you, Mr. Hunt. Stand up here by the windows where you’ll have a view. If you can spot a wolf at this height in the dead of night, you’ve a head full of eyes far better than mine.”
Molly nodded, satisfied. “Welcome aboard, Mr. Hunt. Don’t mind the captain, he just has a stick stuck up his rudder tonight.”
Hink opened his mouth to protest, but she had already strolled off toward the women. The fair-haired petite woman stood next to the amber-haired younger woman who was lying in the hammock. The fair-haired woman was pressing a compress over what looked to be a shoulder wound.
Mr. Hunt strode up to the windows. He got his air legs surprisingly quickly and by the time he reached the window knew how to compensate for the motion of the ship. He’d likely spent some time on a riverboat, or at sea.
That was interesting.
“Molly,” Hink said, “how about you seeing to those boilers?”
She glanced away from the woman in the hammock, and the blonde nodded her permission. Well, wasn’t that a kettle of fish?
“Aye, Captain.” That was all Molly said with her mouth. But with her eyes she was telling him to mind his manners and treat their unexpected guests properly.
They didn’t have time for guests, was how he saw it. They had time for hunting down the Saint’s plans. That crewman he’d liberated from the
There were stories of a weapon called the “Holder.” Hadn’t been proved that it existed, but the president was interested in finding out who, or what, it might be. And Hink was just as interested if General Saint was connected to it.
