Skykeep by Joseph R. Lallo

darlin’,” Lil said, pulling back the hammer of the pistol.
“Plug your ears. This makes a heck of a noise in a place like
this.”
    Nita did so, Lil doing her best to do the
same while still aiming. She pulled the trigger, and a thunderous
boom echoed off the walls, her bullet lodging in the delicate
locking mechanism. Lil took one hand from the gun and tried the
knob. It turned, but only slightly. Nita quickly put her wrench to
work on the knob, clamping it down and turning. The added leverage
was just about enough to get it to turn, and the two of them yanked
the door open. Wind rushed from behind them, and it dragged with it
not just the gagging scent of fug, but a few curls of the toxic
vapor. Suddenly the gas pipes on the walls rang and shuddered. The
flames lighting the room died away.
    Without delay, Nita grasped the helmet on her
belt and sparked a flame to light, holding it with her nonwrench
hand to light the room.
    “Lil!”
    Lil whipped around, pistol at the ready, and
at the first glimpse of what was approaching, fired. Three men
dressed in thick layers of strange, leathery black material were
stalking out of the darkness. Their faces were partially obscured
by masks, but there was no mistaking what little flesh remained
exposed. The men were stark white, like bleached bone. Their eyes
were a reddish brown, and they walked with an odd, twisted posture.
Fug folk. Lil’s shot had knocked the one in front to the ground.
The others scattered and charged. Lil fired twice more, but the
fuggers were faster than she’d expected and neither shot met its
mark. One of them grappled with her, and the other attempted to do
the same with Nita, only to take three punishing blows from her
wrench, sending him to the ground. She then tackled the fugger
attempting to disarm Lil, sending the scrawny but surprisingly
strong assailant sprawling.
    The light dangling from Nita’s belt swung
about chaotically, casting illumination all around, however
briefly. Acting quickly, Lil fired two quick rounds into the chest
of the fugger Nita had knocked down, then put a boot to the head of
the one who had tangled with Nita to keep him down.
    “You wanna end up like your friends there, or
you wanna act like a gentleman and tell us what you were trying to
do?” Lil asked, putting her pistol to his forehead.
    Before anyone could speak, or even react,
Nita and Lil each felt something close around their ankles. A firm
yank pulled them from their feet, sending them spilling forward.
Lil fell on top of her would-be informant, pulling the trigger as
she went but only managing to graze his temple. A hand held tight
to Nita’s braid and pulled her head back, another one grasping
Lil’s ponytail to do the same. The first man Lil had shot was on
his feet again, the light of the helmet revealing the bullet divot
in his chest only as deep as the first layer of uniform and not
leaking any blood. He was dousing a rag with a strong-smelling
chemical, while what was presumably the second fugger Lil had shot
pressed his knees into the smalls of the girls’ backs. They each
struggled, Lil peppering their assailants with hair-curling
profanities, but all it did was earn the deckhand the first dose of
the rag. She struggled more violently for a moment, then fell
still. Nita fought harder, but to no avail. The rag was pressed to
her mouth, and the world went dark.

Chapter
2
    “So this here is the prettiest one you got?” Coop
said, turning a music box over in his hands.
    He stood in a curio shop in the market
district of Lock, which was the name they gave the section of
catwalk that had all seven of the storefronts the town had to
offer. Around him were shelves carefully arranged with
contraptions, figurines, and ceramics. The music box in question
was made from stained mahogany. When he clicked it open, it tinkled
a gay little tune he didn’t recognize, all while a tiny tin
ballerina pirouetted gracefully.
    “Well, beauty is a matter of taste, sir.