Storm Girls (The Juniper Wars Book 4) by Aaron Ritchey (best books to read for teens .txt) 📗

been following their tracks in the Stanleys, but those tracks would be invisible up in the air.

Speaking of being up in the air, I’d need to add more theta-helium to the air-cells as we got higher and the temperature of the air plummeted. Had no clue on how to do that. And what were the physics of high altitude and its effects on the zeppelin?

More and more questions hit me.

Everyone was counting on me to once again be the genius, but all I could think of was a novice flying an airship in a storm was the exact opposite of genius.

As I stood by the pilot’s seat, fretting, something outside caught my eye. Lights. Moving toward us.

Wasn’t the Stanleys. They were under the zeppelin.

My heart plunged into the acid of my stomach and a sweat broke out on my forehead.

Well, one thing I didn’t need to worry about was finding the ARK convoy. They had found us. I counted four Athapasca troop carriers, three UHV Humvees, and at least a dozen motorcycles.

And the tank. The M1 Acevedo.

The lanterns, the zeppelin, the skeleton crew of guards, it had all been a killdeer bird, and we’d gone right for it. They’d used our own strategy against us.

The tank raised its turret ...

“Sweet Jesus,” I whispered.

... and fired.

Chapter Two

You won’t plant cotton

But you will sow weeds

You hate me at night

But you love my need

You only want to kiss me

When you see me bleed.

—Missy Lewis

(i)

BAD PRESSURE OR NOT, wind or not, my doubts left me. I plunked myself down into the pilot’s seat and threw the AZ3 onto the passenger seat.

Underneath me, gunfire erupted. Already on edge, it made me shout.

A series of communication tubes poked out of the wall above my shoulder, but again, no labels. I guess the Regios didn’t need English ’cause they could read their code. I picked one at random and shouted into it, “Get everyone on board. Release the ropes! We gotta get out of here!”

I slammed my foot down on the pedal to the right, and the Kashmir IV shuddered forward but didn’t move. I didn’t know if both the Stanleys had been secured or if they were still in the process. I only knew that the ARK had come for us, and that had been their plan all along: lure us in close and when we took the bait, hit us hard.

I pulled back on the yoke, and the tip of the zeppelin rose. Pushing it forward brought her level again. Okay, that was like an airplane. I could go up and down. The yoke would prolly work for left and right as well. Now I just had to get us free.

A boom from the Acevedo tank made me yelp again. A swoosh of a missile answered, and for a minute, the snow landscape below lit up with fire and raw mortal destruction. Was that rocket from one of the Stanleys or Wren’s Panzerfaust?

The Kashmir listed to the right, and I fought the yoke to keep her level. The ropes on the left must’ve been cut. I yanked the yoke as far left as I could get her, then drove the pedal to the floor.

We spun clear around the ropes to the right. I didn’t have a seat belt on, and I felt myself slipping off the seat. We went around and around, and I caught a glimpse of one of the Stanleys returning fire and taking fire as well. She was sparking and smoking, and when I saw both arm guns up, I realized it was the Audrey Hepburn. No sign of the Marilyn. Had she already been strapped under the zeppelin?

The tank boomed again, but I couldn’t see the target.

The wind bashed the zeppelin, and my stomach sank as we were pushed toward the ground. I huffed and stood on that pedal, pulling the yoke as far back as I could.

If we smashed to the ground, it might destroy the Marilyn and whoever was inside, prolly Sharlotte.

I had to keep the airship up and let the Marilyn help in the fight.

More explosions rocked me from underneath, but I couldn’t see what was going on.

My mind’s eye, though, painted the scene. Wren would be on foot, running, firing, screaming at the skanks that they needed killing and she was just the woman to serve the killing up plenty. The Audrey Hepburn would be shooting her machine guns and missiles at the oncoming troops while Marilyn dangled from the underside of the zeppelin. Knowing Sharlotte, she’d work the guns if she was able.

Didn’t know if Dutch had crawled into one of the Stanleys or if he was on foot with Wren, fighting. Or maybe he had scampered off. I had the idea that he was the type of guy who would run away to fight another day, even if it meant he had to step casually over our corpses to do it.

The zeppelin spun around again, and it was pretty clear I didn’t have the pressure to be able to pull away from the cables binding the Kashmir to the earth. Which meant I had to do my fighting from the air.

I rose from the seat, and the zeppelin leveled off, but then a fist of wind struck it, and we went sailing around on the rope, like a boat around an anchor chain. I was flung to the floor, hitting my head against a Neofiber wall, but I didn’t slow. If Sharlotte was in the Marilyn underneath, she’d be an ideal target. A duck tied to a goose tied to a tree.

I made it inside an ammunition room before I was thrown to the floor again. A whole rack of Panzerfausts and boxes of rocket-propelled grenades teetered above me, but thank God, they were secure. I grabbed a rocket launcher and loaded her up. Ha, and my instructors at the academy said I was wasting my life watching YouTube videos on modern weaponry. I was about to prove them wrong.

Now, I had to figure out