The Firebird Mystery by Darrell Pitt

Author:Darrell Pitt
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Juvenile fiction, Juvenile science fiction, Mysteries and detectives
ISBN: 9781922148759
Publisher: The Text Publishing Company
Published: 2014-02-25T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Blackness. A piece of cloth moved over Jack’s face. Blinding him. Smothering him. He pushed hard at it and the material cried out.

‘Oh dear!’

Scarlet Bell. The girl lay on top of him. She scrambled off.

‘My apologies,’ Scarlet said.

Jack’s head hurt, but it was nothing that would not heal. Around them was complete chaos. The airship had crashed, embedding itself into the ice. Windows were destroyed. The floor was broken and buckled. Light trickled through the gap between the top of the snow and the window.

‘Apology accepted,’ Jack replied. ‘Mr Doyle!’

Ignatius Doyle lay on the floor a few feet away with Lucy Harker in his arms. They gingerly climbed to their feet.

‘I’m all right, Jack,’ he said, rubbing his rump. ‘Landed heavily, that’s all.’

‘Thank you for saving me, Ignatius,’ Lucy said.

‘You’re welcome, my dear.’

They brushed loose snow from their clothing as Mr Doyle shovelled it away from the nearest window.

‘We have to get out of here,’ he said. ‘The ship could explode at any time.’

Jack peered into one of the staterooms and found a chair.

‘Good man,’ Mr Doyle said. ‘I suggest the ladies go first.’

Lucy Harker climbed onto the chair and scrambled through the gap, with Scarlet behind. Then Mr Doyle turned to Jack.

‘You next, my boy.’

Jack shook his head. ‘No, Mr Doyle. You next.’

Mr Doyle looked as if he were about to argue, but instead accepted the offer from his protégé. ‘As you say, Jack.’

The detective climbed out. Jack took one last look around before he followed him through the window and onto the ice. The Britannia had been completely wrecked in the attack—it would never fly again. A crippling gash ran along the rigid balloon from one end to the other.

‘I don’t smell any gas,’ Scarlet said.

‘It’s impossible to smell hydrogen,’ Mr Doyle told her. ‘It is odourless.’

They started across the snow. The crew were abandoning the vessel, Captain Bardle among them. The air was full of smoke and noise. The other airships descending into the valley had begun to climb after seeing the assault on the Britannia. They were firing artillery and bullets at the metal monster from a safe distance. The creature was on fire in a dozen places.

A number of ships were diving over it, dropping bombs. One ship hovered almost stationary, firing continuous rounds into its red eye. The creature kept reaching up to attack the airships, as if swatting flies. It turned its attention to the downed wreckage of the Britannia and started towards the vessel.

‘Run!’ Mr Doyle cried.

His warning was unnecessary: everyone fled. Jack found it difficult running through the snow—they had left their snowshoes—but fear drove him on.

Something hovered above his head, and he looked up to see a vast metal foot bearing down on them.

Oh no, he thought. The foot’s going to crush Mr Doyle!

Jack dived for the detective. He slammed into Mr Doyle’s side, pushing him out of harm’s way as the foot sledge-hammered down.

Woomph!

Snow and rock flew everywhere as the metal construct missed them by inches. But they were not the targets of the monster’s wrath.

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