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He was right; it wasn’t far. They found it fast, puttering and swaying against the intermittent rain and wind, dipping up and down above the trees, only to drop back down into the valley as they soared past the wall, so near that Maria could’ve stuck out her hand and touched it. Her stomach dropped and lurched, but luckily she hadn’t eaten since the night before, so there was nothing present to cast out over Lookout Mountain as they careened off to the south.
The weather worked against them every mile of the way. It buffeted them head-on, and sometimes threatened to throw them off course. Henry wore himself out keeping the craft as steady as he could, and eventually found some violent rhythm to the trip. Maria couldn’t see his eyes behind the lenses, but she had a feeling that they were hard and unblinking.
“There’s a spyglass in my bag,” he shouted to her over the rushing air and rumbling motor.
“I’ll get it. ” She nodded, and fished around until she found it.
“I’m not seeing much traffic down there, are you?”
“No,” she said loudly back, though her view through the spyglass was compromised by the lenses she wore to protect her eyes. “That’ll change as we approach Atlanta. It’s picking up even … even now. ” She gestured at the road, then off to the side, where a large factory compound coughed out soot from three tall towers. “That’s Dalton, I believe. ”
“I’m sure you’re right. ”
“So”—she squinted back down at the map, and pointed to a spot with one gloved finger— “we’re about here. Still ninety miles from the city, I’d estimate, but I’ll keep my eyes open. If we’re lucky, they’re still quite a ways outside town. ”
“If we were lucky, Troost would’ve gotten us a ride with a heater,” Henry said. His icy cheeks were round and red, and he wasn’t smiling.
“Just one more reason to hope we find them fast,” she replied, though she couldn’t feel her face at all, and her jaw must surely be freezing shut.
Talking was difficult, so they soon gave up and concentrated on their respective chores. Henry kept the craft aloft, and Maria watched the ground below, tracing the comings and goings of carts, horses, and diesel carriages as they chugged along the southbound route to the biggest city in the Confederacy.
She did not take her eyes off the road as she asked, “How much fuel does this thing hold?”
“Enough to get us to Atlanta, but not much farther. These little ones aren’t made for the long haul, but we’ll make it to the city,” he assured her. “Even fighting the sky like this. ”
“Good,” she said quietly. And then she closed her eyes, listening for something she heard very faintly, behind them and off to their left. “Even if we take a detour or two?”
“Detour?” He frowned hard enough that the goggles dipped on his forehead. “Why would we detour?”
“Not a detour, then. Call it evasive action. ”
Her ears pinpointed the noise and she turned her head far enough to catch it with her eyes. A ship was incoming, far enough away that she couldn’t suss out the details, but it wasn’t alone—and that was the main point of note. It had a friend, and that friend was approaching from the right.
“Two ships, Henry,” she said evenly. “Coming up behind us. ”
“They could be merchants or military fellows,” he tried, but he didn’t sound convinced even as he said it. “This is a common enough trade route. ”
“Henry, we’re being flanked. ”
“That … can’t be by accident. ”
“I shouldn’t think so, no. ”
“It might be nothing,” he said, hands tight on the controls. “We haven’t seen any other ships today because the flying conditions are nothing short of awful, but this section of sky is a regular roadway. They have no reason to confront us. ”
Maria turned the spyglass outward and caught the first ship in the round viewing area. It was small and nondescript, and still too far away to see with any great clarity. But the second ship was larger. She could just make out some lettering on the side, but not quite read what it spelled.
“What do you see?”
“I see…” she said, slowly, “a military ship, I think. It’s big, but doesn’t look well armed. Cargo, transport, something of that sort. It’s CSA gray, at any rate. With … yes. The Bonnie Blue,” she added, meaning a white star in a blue circle—to differentiate it from the Texian insignia, with a white star on brown. “It’s one of theirs, or someone’s made it look that way. ”
“You think it’s one of the Union decoys?”
“Might be, but if the Maynard device wouldn’t fit on something that size, it must be bigger than I’d assumed. ” She adjusted her grip on the spyglass and tried the other ship again. “The smaller ship … it’s not marked for the military. I’m not sure it’s marked at all. ” It was gaining on them faster than the CSA ship, but still she saw no identifying flag, insignia, name, or registration numbers.
“That isn’t good. ”
“It might mean pirates. Pirates wouldn’t bother a pair of adventurers in a tiny rented craft, not when there are travelers below and big city docks another hour or two out. I do hope it’s pirates,” she concluded.
