“Airbags nonfunctional. Aircraft operation not recommended. Override or call for assistance.”
“Override.”
“Maybe we should steal a different one?” says James. “A better one?”
“There’s no time—”
“Camera sensors nonfunctional. Aircraft operation not recommended. Override or call for assistance.”
“Oh, for the love of—”
I throw the chopper in manual, climb over James, seize control of the steering wheel, and floor the accelerator. The vehicle pitches forward violently, throwing me back against James, who unleashes a string of expletives as I land hard against his injured legs.
There’s no time to apologize.
I can hardly see through my good eye, much less through the broken windshield as we bolt through flames ten feet high. I keep my foot planted on the accelerator even as the low-battery signal screeches dire warnings. We head directly toward the cliff, careening wildly on two unbalanced wheels as circling helicopters machine-gun rounds of ammunition at us, taking out the remaining wheels one by one.
Suddenly, we’re sliding.
The trike spins wildly out of control, clipping trees and bushes, branches and brambles scraping painfully along the outer body. I hit the brakes, hard, and we stop spinning only to skid backward off the cliff,launching badly into the air. I hear James shout something profane and then—
And then we’re free-falling, spiraling toward the sea.
Rosabelle
Chapter 16
I don’t allow myself to panic.
I shift gears, manually overriding preset controls in order to activate the rotors. When the blades finally catch, whipping the air at a satisfying clip, I push the throttle forward to full capacity, straightening the dying aircraft just inches before it kisses water. We bump and skid along the tide, water lashing the frame with the force of a knife, but before long the curve of a distant coastline comes into view.
Still, my relief is short-lived.
The helicopters aren’t far behind, three of them appearing in the distance, firing more warning shots that whiz dangerously past our heads, occasionally dinging the metal body. The only thing keeping us from certain death is the fact that they want James alive; otherwise they’d take us out with ease. If I allow them to get close enough, a sniper will put a bullet through my throat before whisking James back to base—where they’ll no doubt recalibrate under Klaus’s guidance. Right now I’m running on adrenaline and the power of a small pilot light: the promise Klaus made me in the cradle.
Complete this mission to satisfaction, Rosabelle, and we will set you and your sister free.
I’m monitoring battery levels, trying to squeeze as much life out of this dented carcass as possible, but I can feel the motor giving out. We’re almost out of time.
“Keep your foot on the accelerator,” I tell James, shouting to be heard above the clamor. “And hold down the throttle.” I climb over him again, returning to the passenger seat before overriding the user interface, typing prompts furiously into the command line.
“What are you doing?” James shouts back, taking over as instructed. “We’ve got maybe a few minutes left before this thing is deadweight. We need to jump.”
“I know,” I call out. “I’m trying to buy us more time.”
I’m still desperately running commands, hoping the aircraft’s computer has sufficient power to execute complex functions. Only when the chopper gives an unsettling jolt do I breathe a quick sigh of relief. Then, quickly, I unlatch the glove compartment and find what I’m looking for: a compact tool kit.
“Hey—wait—tell me what’s going on—”
I stand up on the seat and get to work, dismantling parts of the fuselage in order to access the battery storage. A couple of excruciating minutes later the blades pick up speed and the chopper ascends several feet in the sky. Relieved and exhausted, I sink back into my seat, ignoring the tremble in my right arm as I snap the tool kit shut. I allow myself a second to close my eyes and breathe, relishing the relative quiet. Now that we’re not clipping the water every other second, the deafening noise has settled.
“Okay, what the hell did you do?” James demands. “The choppers fell back and the flight deck shut down. No one is trying to kill us and none of the screens are working.”
Reluctantly, I open my eyes. “I ran a simulation and rerouted the power source.”
“Explain this to me like I’m an idiot.”
I feel an urge to laugh at that, except that I haven’t laughed in so long the compulsion surprises me. Bothers me.
