Read Falling Sky for Free Online Page B

But it catches and I feel it rev beneath me when I hit the pedal. Then the cart is bursting forward and I’ve cleared the doors and hit the top of the hill. The wheels catch fresh earth and then I’m barreling down the hill.
    I turn the wheel back toward the Core, hoping I can get one or two other people out with me, but as the Ferrari crests the hill, the building nearest me erupts in fire and I can feel the shockwave from where I sit inside the cart.
    Above me the raider ships are swarming. And the Cherub is gone.
    I slam the steering wheel in anger and turn the wheel back around, racing down the hill. The loss of the Core hollows me out, but the loss of the Cherub is a keen, cutting ache. I’ve lost my parents. Lost my father’s Star of David. Lost the Cherub that used to be his airship. His home.
    My home.
    All I have left of Dad, aside from my genes, is his revolver. All I’ve held on to from him is a weapon.
    I push it all away. No time to lose my shit now. Get free, get clear. Then lose your shit.
    A problem with the Ferrari, aside from the fact that it’s stuck on the ground, is that it’s not airtight. It’s covered on all sides, but there are gaps. There’s open space for the engine, for ventilation. And that’s space the Bug can get in. Don’t get me wrong; I’d be more than happy to take this thing on a joyride to see how many Ferals I could take out by slamming full speed into them. But all it would take is one drop of blood, sucked up into the cart and onto me for my joyride to end.
    And don’t tell me I’m paranoid. Not unless you’ve seen your own father Fade right in front of your eyes. Not until you’ve seen the reason dim in a loved one’s eyes.
    But these wheels are all I have right now, and I need to put as much space between me and the raiders.
    I think of the boffins who didn’t get out in time. I hope the raiders were told to keep them alive. Because they would be useful to anyone. And if the boffins are smart, they’ll do what the raiders tell them to do.
    But something uncomfortable squirms in my belly. I know that if I were the raiders, if I wasn’t sure whether the boffins had come into contact with Feral blood or not, I would kill them all. I’m not happy about that, but it’s what they’ll probably do.
    I have no idea where I’m going. Away is all I can think of. It’s not like I can get the Cherub back.
    I drive until my heart stops pounding. I drive until the acid taste in the back of my mouth has subsided. Then I find a shaded spot beside a hill and park the Ferrari. And slam the wheel a few times.
    And I mourn the loss of my airship.
    I mourn the loss of my home.

    People often ask me where the Cherub came from. They ask me how I came by her because she’s a fine ship and because I’m an independent operator.
    I don’t always tell these people the truth.
    The truth is that the ship belonged to my grandfather. More or less. I told Miranda this when she asked. “Was he a pilot?” she asked.
    â€œNo. A mechanic. Back in the Clean. When the Bug hit, and the shit went down, he stole a ship. One of the best and newest his company had.” He stole the Cherub and saved a bunch of people, and I am so damned proud of him for doing that. But most importantly, he saved his own life and ensured that I would be here today.
    He obviously wasn’t the only one. Lots of people realized that taking to the sky would be the logical thing to do and they all did it.
    So granddad stole it and took it, and his family, up into the air. When he died, my father inherited the ship, patching her up and making additions where necessary. After Mom died, it was me and him in the ship up until the time he Faded. So it’s something of a family legacy. Stolen, originally, to be sure, but made our own. A Gold family artifact.
    Since it fell to me, I had poured all my time that wasn’t spend