Greg resisted a shudder of fear at Mungenast's expression. "I wouldn't object if you do."
A renewed burst of gunfire sounded from ahead. Greg could make out the roof of the hollow building where the Oculus Nightingale had docked. "Oh crap."
Mungenast waved to a younger man with bristly ginger hair. A shiny new Derby hat sat on top of the bushy mass. "Charlie? Take some scouts, go see what's waiting up ahead."
Charlie sketched a salute, gestured to a few of his companions and within seconds they'd vanished into the rubble. Mungenast nodded. "Charlie's a good guy. He worked out how to get us through the caves."
Greg looked at him. "How did you get here so soon? It should take days to travel through a cave system from that mine."
Mungenast leered. "There are ways and means, old horse."
He seemed inclined to say no more on the subject so Greg let it drop.
Greg fretted over the delay taken up by the scouting mission, but acknowledged the sense in not rushing blindly into a firefight. He tried not to think of what Adena and her crew might be going through.
"You worried about your buddies?" Mungenast asked. Greg nodded. The man shrugged. "Their fate lies in the lap of the gods."
"That's not exactly comforting, Mungenast."
"Isn't it?" Mungenast's face screwed up as he thought. "I figured it would be. I've been in worse situations back on Earth."
"Were you in the military?'
"Nope. I'm an accountant."
Greg gave him a sideways look, taking in Mungenast's general appearance and behavior. "For real?"
"Yeah. Some of those Chamber of Commerce meetings were hell!"
"You look like a hillbilly." Another cracked grin was all he got for that comment. "How did you come to be here?"
"Dunno. I was at a restaurant with friends, went to the restroom. Some guy with a real pale face and odd dress sense appeared as I washed my hands then everything went blank."
"Uh, don't take this the wrong way, but... you weren't a virgin by any chance?"
"Yeah." Mungenast stared at Greg. "How did you know?"
Any answer Greg might have given died in his throat as two of the scouts came back. One had a female form over his shoulder in a fireman's carry, and Greg gasped when he saw the woman's face. "Cathy!"
Forgetting his injuries and the cold, he raced over to help the man lay the unconscious woman on a clear patch of ground. Greg almost pushed the man away in his concern as he bent over her. She had a patch of torn skin on her chin and a trickle of blood ran from a gash on her forehead. "Cathy? It's me, Greg!"
The scout looked from Greg to Mungenast. "We found her draped over a pile of rubble a little ways off."
Mungenast sniffed. "Looks like she got in the way of either the bloodsuckers or whatever caused that flash of light. What news out front?"
"Fighting, boss." The other scout jerked her thumb over her shoulder. "There's a line of Quadsang and human guards trying to get into the hangar. The people in there are keepin' them at bay — for now." She looked at Greg. "If you want to help 'em, we'd better hustle."
"Then let's hustle." Mungenast nodded at Cathy. "Can you carry her?"
"I'll try." Greg managed to get his arms under Cathy and lifted her. "Damn, she's heavier than she looks." He hefted her weight to a more comfortable position. "Okay. Let's go."
They made their way through the mess of rubble and broken walls. Sounds of gunfire echoed. It was hard to pinpoint the source. The scouts returned at intervals to report, impressing Greg with Mungenast's ability to shape the former slaves into a coherent force.
At last the bulk of the hangar loomed up, and they came to a broken wall. Three scouts knelt in front of it, peering into the cavernous open end of the building. Oculus Nightingale hung in the air, seeming none the worse for wear. Below her silvery shape muzzle flashes flickered like fireflies in the gloom. Gunfire echoed, magnified by the hollow interior.
Greg laid Cathy on the ground. She half opened one eye and stared up at him, her expression blank. "Cathy?" He patted her wrist. "How are you feeling?"
Her lips worked and a frown creased her pretty freckled face. "Urrr..."
"Don't try to talk. You took a nasty bang to the head."
She closed her eye and appeared to pass out.
Mungenast ran up and down, ensuring his troops had taken up good positions then peered over the wall and grinned. "The bloodsuckers are lined up end-on to us behind that row of crates. We've gotten onto their flank. Time to roll 'em up!"
With that he and the others piled over the wall and ran flat out for the hangar. Greg peered wide-eyed at the carnage that ensued. The firing ceased as the bloodsuckers turned to face the surprise attack. Their reactions were as fast as always, but mass and sheer bloody-mindedness favored Mungenast and his crew.
Greg watched, crouched in cover beside Cathy. A few minutes later the last Overseer was dropped by the blade of an ax. All noise of fighting ceased.
Adena appeared from somewhere, limping and favoring her right arm. She spoke to Mungenast, who pointed over to where Greg stood. Her expression when she saw him was one of relief. She hobbled over to lean on the wall.
"I'm glad you made it."
He smiled. "I'm glad to see you, too."
Adena peered down at Cathy. "Is this your missing friend?"
"Yes. She's kinda banged about and out of it right now, but I don't think she's badly hurt."
"I'll get Conner to look at her."
Greg gestured to the airship. "How's the ship?"
Adena gave the huge craft a fond look.
