Night Witches by L. J. Adlington

Author:L. J. Adlington [Adlington, L. J.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Juvenile Fiction, Fantasy & Magic
ISBN: 9781444904314
Google: -bA2kwEACAAJ
Publisher: Hodder Children's Books
Published: 2013-11-15T06:00:00+00:00

How many missions a night? How many nights?

I’m sure Aura keeps tally of them all, and Marina Furey too, brooding through the night hours with her lights on full. Me, I’ve lost count. Eight, nine, ten a night . . . or more. Some in rain, some in clouds, some in clear nights with only Umbra-glow to light our way. All are a duel between fear and excitement. A dance of life and death.

Out here in the Biopolis, between the city and the war, we’ve forgotten how to do anything but fly. Each night is a blur of sensations – the creak of the plane’s wooden frame, the stutter of an engine stalling, the flap of fabric torn by bullets, the thunk of our parachute packs when we finally get to unclick and drop them at dawn.

We’re getting good. Accuracy is improving with every bomb drop. Roads, railways, towns, traptions, we blow them all to pieces then curve up and away with the Crux shouting curses. ‘Night Witches,’ they call us. The name sticks. Trouble is, no matter how good we are, the Crux keep coming. All the Victory reports in the world can’t hide the fact that the enemy are now in control of the forest’s northern borders and edging closer to Sea-Ways every day, for all we make them crawl into hidey-holes and graves by night.

The Biopolis is a strange haven between missions. New recruits crowd into neighbouring dorms, staring at us like we’re grizzled veterans . . . and I guess we are. New planes are delivered from factories far from the front line. New engineers arrive to maintain them. Fenlon bullies those that Furey hasn’t time to shout at. She’s unstoppable, and so is her smoking habit. I see her lighting up another choke while she argues with clerks who can’t get her supplies and with officers who won’t stop sending her untrained recruits, and while she pleads with her daughter Tilly to go to bed when she’s told.

Tilly hasn’t spoken since the bridge bombing, though she seems healthy apart from that. I watch her sometimes, just keeping a little eye on her. She watches me too, not smiling, not waving, just looking. Whenever someone suggests Furey should send her away to a safe house in Sea-Ways, Marina just hugs her daughter close and says, ‘Nowhere’s safe except with me.’

I like that. My mother would be the same. As spring slumps into a heavy, humid summer, Mama messages more and more.

are you sure you’re all right, rain?

mama, i’m fine. aura would let you know if anything ever happened

the war, the victory, it’s taking so long and i saw pictures of those traption things and i worry about you, i don’t know where you are or what you’re doing

mama, i can’t tell you anything about war work

that’s exactly what i said to your uncle mentira when he asked if you’d been in touch. as long as you’re all right and you’re sleeping and eating properly?

Sleeping? Eating? Hardly.

They

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