Free Clockworks and Corsets by Regina Riley Page B

a high, tittering laugh before she asked, “Who is it?”
    “I’m not sure.” He unsheathed his dagger, holding it low. “Keep walking. Don’t let on that we see them.”
    She kept her pace with Click while freeing her gun. As casually as she could manage, she held it across her shoulder. She heard the murmur of the rest of the crew behind her, then the soft snick of blades unsheathing. Jax already bore a blade, having commandeered Magpie’s saber for her own, leaving the lookout with only a dagger and a long face.
    “How far are we from the ship, Atom?” she asked.
    “About a half a mile, Captain,” Atom said. “We should arrive at the beach head any moment.”
    Without warning, Jax came to a halt. The blonde tilted her head to the left, then the right, as if listening for something only she could hear. She turned back to the crew, saw the drawn weapons, and nodded. Click lifted his hand to hold out four fingers. Jax smiled a wicked grin while she shook her head. She lifted both hands, raising eight fingers. Rose grimaced. Eight enemies lurked in the inky blackness, and the crew was still a half a mile from the ship.
    “Huddle up,” Rose commanded. The crew gathered in a tight formation, each facing outward, each brandishing a weapon of some type. Except Atom. When Rose suggested that he might want to bring a weapon, that the wilds of the jungle at night were nothing to be gentle with, he balked.
    “Weapons are the last bastion of the savage,” he had explained.
    Rose wondered how he felt about weapons now.
    “I thought this island was deserted,” Jayne said, aiming her homespun shrapnel gun into the trees.
    “Atom?” Rose asked.

    “Yes?” he answered.
    “A little help here?”
    “Oh. It must be the natives.”
    “Natives? You didn’t say anything about natives.”
    “You didn’t ask.”
    “We didn’t see signs of anyone on our way in,” Gabriella whispered.
    “Because they didn’t want us too,” Click said.
    “Keep tight,” Jax said. “They’re on all sides now.”
    “Cap?” Magpie asked. “What do you want us to do?”
    Rose searched her mind for the best course of action. Could they outrun eight enemies in the dark of the jungle? Probably not. She knew her girls would rather die trying get back to the Widow as opposed to being taken captive. Just when she was about to give the order to make a break for it, the vines before her parted and a tall man stepped out.
    Rose thought she was used to the idea of a wild island native, having shared a bed with one for so long now. Click had her spoiled with his obsession of modern technology and his yen for western ways. The stranger emerging from the darkness of the jungle was the genuine article. A real island native. He made Click look like a New England schoolboy by comparison.
    The man stood at least seven feet tall. He had a series of winding tattoos all over his naked torso, arms and legs, similar to Click’s only more numerous. Even his face was a myriad of designs, with blocky swirls layered across his chin and cheeks. A series of thin white tubes laddered down each ear, piercing the cartilage. Each ended in a large hollow piece that stretched his lobes to an unbelievable degree. A similar white tube rested in the man’s nose, just above his upper lip. The man leaned against a long, sharp spear. Rose’s eye wandered down for the briefest moment. When she saw his unclothed loins, she snapped her eyes back to his wild grin.
    The man grinned in silence at the crew for a moment, then grunted something in his native tongue. Seven similar spear-wielding natives emerged from the underbrush, surrounding the crew.
    The men stared at the intruders, but made no moves against them.
    “Click?” Rose whispered.
    Click said something to the tallest native, who cocked his head and listened, never losing his grin. When Click was done, the native said a few things in return. Click shook his head and furrowed his brow.
    “No good, my captain,”