Free Iron Jackal by Chris Wooding Page A

known they’d manage to get separated somehow; he just hadn’t wanted to listen to Pinn and Harkins sniping at each other the whole time.
    He turned his attention to the train. There was still the problem of those damn autocannons, one near the front and one near the back, waiting for anyone to get close enough to shoot at. They couldn’t get near the engine carriage with that autocannon in the way, and so they couldn’t stop the train. Unless . . .
    ‘Silo!’ he said. ‘Get us near to the carriages.’
    ‘Er,’ said Malvery. ‘Might not be a good idea.’
    ‘Between the guns,’ said Frey. ‘Close to the side, in the middle. They can’t hit us at that angle. We’ll be out of their arc of fire.’
    ‘Yeah, but we’ll still have to go through their arc of—’ Malvery began, but Silo had already turned the Rattletrap and was heading at full speed towards the train. Malvery tutted and blew out his moustache. ‘Never bloody mind, I’m just the doctor,’ he grumbled. ‘I’ll shoot at them, shall I?’
    Malvery laid down fire on one of the autocannons as they approached. The bullets had little effect on the metal shield that protected the gunners, but it was a distraction, at least. Shells started coming their way as soon as they cut closer to the train. Silo dodged between the explosions, the Rattletrap swerving and slithering as geysers of dirt erupted all around them.
    A shell landed to their right, and they were shoved sideways by a wall of concussion and pelted by chips of rock. Silo rode the skid until the wheels gripped again, and they powered onward, more shells exploding in their wake.
    Frey had to admit, Silo had been as good as his word. However he’d learned to do it, the man could drive.
    Then, all at once, the shelling stopped. Frey’s ears were ringing and he’d be half-deaf for a day, but they were through. Silo pulled them alongside a carriage that had no windows, right in the centre of the train. A goods carriage, with a ladder bolted onto its side that led up to the roof. Silo had seen his captain’s plan.
    Malvery looked from the ladder to Frey and back again. ‘Cap’n,’ he said. ‘It’s my professional diagnosis that you’re liable to get yourself killed doing that.’
    Frey couldn’t help but agree. Now that the train was close enough to reach out and touch, its brutish power intimidated him. The sheer tonnage of the thing, the speed of it: how could something like this be stopped by one man?
    But he’d made his decision, and he couldn’t go back. His crew needed him to make decisions and stick to them. That was how it was, these days. The old Frey would have changed his mind about now. But he was the hero of Sakkan. They looked up to him. He felt the weight of their expectation pushing him onward.
    ‘Close as you can, Silo,’ he said.
    ‘We get any closer, we gonna be under the wheels,’ Silo rumbled.
    Frey looked back at Malvery, who touched two fingers to his forehead in a quick salute. ‘Rather you than me, Cap’n.’
    He braced himself and fixed his eyes on the ladder. Even with Silo’s best efforts, the Rattletrap was swaying back and forth.
    Well, damn it, I’ve had a good life. If I fall, I suppose I won’t feel much. Unless I get caught under the wheels and dragged for half a klom, screaming all the way until finally I—
    He jumped.
    It was over in an eyeblink. He felt the push of his legs, and the impact as he tangled with the ladder, but nothing in between. His mind blanked the intervening distance in a white blare of pure terror. He clung to the warm metal rungs, letting relief soak through him.
    ‘Go help Ashua,’ he shouted at Silo. ‘I’ll be alright.’
    ‘You’re a mad bastard, Cap’n!’ Malvery yelled as they pulled away, but the doctor was grinning as he did so. ‘A mad bastard!’
    Well, Malvery was probably half right about that, although Frey didn’t know for sure. But mad? He wished that were the case. Then he wouldn’t have to