Page 29 of Under the Iron Sky

Power low.

Pressure.

Rear thruster damaged.

Pressure.

Forward thruster damaged.

Pressure.

Pressure.

Pressure.

Soraya pushed the gear stick forward with all her strength. The speed didn’t increase.

Hold on.

All around her, the craft started to groan, the walls warping in on themselves at unnatural angles under the Demon’s power.

Just a little more … You’ve got this …

A crack splintered across the canopy, zigzagging just above her head.

The dragon was close now. She could feel its jaws nipping at her heels.

Come on. Come on …

The air behind her suddenly warmed—

Soraya slammed the brakes, yanking her craft to a complete stop so quickly and suddenly there was no time for the dragon or its rider to realize what she’d done until they were flying past her.

The Demon turned just as Soraya opened fire, not at the dragon—but at him, just as he thrust a gauntleted hand toward her.

The Light found its mark, and a wall of thick gray smoke exploded through the air and battered into Soraya’s craft.

Neither dragon nor rider were there when it cleared.

She scanned the skies to the east, the west, the ground far below. All clear, as far as she could see. Surely it couldn’t be that easy, could it?

The scanner’s answering scream was loud enough to drown out Soraya’s own—and as the jet shook and gleaming white fangs as long as her legs pierced the wing and left side of the cockpit, Soraya realized her mistake too late.

She’d been so busy looking for a beast lurking below, she hadn’t thought to check above.

She pushed the control stick forward, desperate to escape—

The dragon’s grip was too tight, and she could do nothing as the monster shook its head and she was tossed around the cockpit.

To her left, an orange light flickered at the back of its throat.

Her fingers fumbled at the belt strapped across her chest, sweat beading across her brow as the temperature suddenly spiked. The buckle was jammed.

No. No. No.

She was trapped. Panic like she hadn’t felt in years clawed its way up her throat, and her hands were indeed shaking now, pulling and pressing every lever and button within her reach to no avail.

She couldn’t even recall what half of them did despite flying this rig hundreds of times over the last ten years—not that it would have done her any good if she did. The left wing had snapped and fallen away when the dragon had caught her, the thrusters weren’t responding, and the glass protecting her from those teeth was cracking.