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Tin Swift(102)

By:Devon Monk


Theobald handed the lantern to Miss Dupuis, and she handed it up until Hink took it and stood next to Cedar, peering down into the crate.

“Canteens, buckets, blankets,” Hink said. “No food. Pans, though. Bust open the other one.”

Cedar took a few steps down the tunnel and broke the next crate.

Hink looked over the contents. “Lanterns.” He picked one up, gave it a shake. “It’s got oil. Looks like there’s three of them. Light them all just to make sure they’re wicked proper, then take what supplies we can carry. Mr. Hunt, do you think Wil can do some scouting for us?”

“He already is.”

Hink glanced off where he had seen the wolf just a second ago, but he was gone, silent as the night. “He have a good nose for fresh air?” Hink asked quietly.

Joonie might be worried about being trapped, but Hink was more worried that the air would run foul.

“Yes. And he’ll find daylight, but it could take time,” Cedar said. Then, to the others, “If anyone else has a way, or device we might use to track out of the tunnels, now would be a good time to suggest it.”

“I have a compass,” Theobald said.

“You have paper and ink to record our headings in case we need to backtrack?” Hink asked.

“A man in my line of work always keeps paper and ink,” Theobald said cheerily.

“What line of work is that exactly?” Hink asked.

“Oh, I’m a man of many trades, but mostly I am a speaker and man of politics.”

He got busy digging in that bag of his, and produced a journal, a fountain pen, and a compass, which he strapped to his wrist like a watch.

“Everyone have a light?” Hink asked.

“Yes, Captain,” Miss Dupuis said. “I believe we are all ready.”

Cedar started off down the tunnel, moving easily over the sandy floor littered with stones, at a pace Hink could match. Except for Theobald calling out change of headings through the twists and turns, they didn’t talk for a long while, each of them busy minding feet and head.

Wil showed up after a bit.

“Any luck?” Cedar asked.

The wolf couldn’t speak, or so Hink supposed. But somehow, Cedar seemed to understand what the animal was trying to say.

“Branches off up here,” Cedar said. “Be careful.”

Hink was starting to really feel the leg wound. Each step was a little harder than the last. He knew he couldn’t walk these tunnels all night. He’d need a rest soon.

They took the left branch of the tunnel where Wil waited patiently for them. Then there was more walking. Some uphill, some down, and enough turns and branches that Hink was very glad Theobald was keeping close track of their meandering.

Just when Hink was about to tell Mr. Hunt his leg was going to completely give out on him, a gush of cool air washed into the tunnel.

Wil was some ways down that tunnel, whining softly.

There wasn’t any light up ahead, but the breeze had to come from some kind of opening to the outside.

“We’re facing east,” Theobald said.

“East sounds good to me.” Hink was going through his memories of flying over Old Jack’s mountain.

Not a lot of ships traveled here, and Old Jack had the guns to keep it that way. Still, he’d drifted the Swift silent on no engines over Jack’s on a full moon once.

“If we’re any sort of lucky,” Hink said between the brief moments of putting weight on his bad leg, “we’ll be somewhere near a clearing. Plenty of valleys between most of these peaks.”

“And then what?” Theobald asked.

“I’ll signal for the Swift to come get us,” Hink said. “If she’s anywhere within twenty miles and the sky is clear, she’ll be able to spot us.”

“You have a signaling device on you, Captain Hink?” Miss Dupuis asked.

“All airship crewmen carry one. Or should.” He grunted up the uneven floor. “They’ll be looking for it.”

And then the light from outside, even though it must be late evening, carved a blindingly white hole in the tunnel ahead and just slightly above where they stood.

It hurt to look at it, and Hink covered his eyes until he could bear the sight. Pretty soon he lowered his fingers and looked at the pile of stones that appeared to be the only way to climb out.

The tunnel opened wider here. Big enough you could drive two Conestogas and their teams of oxen side by side through it if you had the mind to.

Cedar stood at the bottom of the rock pile, his hands on his hips, his face tipped up, the wolf pacing silently behind him. He was thinking a route up those rocks.

“I’ll climb it first,” Cedar said. “Then I’ll help anyone up who might need it.”