The Icebound Clocktower and Other Noise Inspired Stories

The Hurricane Flight

Distant Thunder, Wind Noise, Flying Fortress

Hundreds of miles up in the air and nowhere to land. Men and women scramble across the deck of the airship, and dozens of them are only working on keeping the balloons attached to the rest of the thing, which are vital if they want to stay airborne. The rumble of propellers mingle with the thunder, and rain pelts hard enough to bore holes through the wood. The top deck is chaos, and each flash of lightning is far, far too close for comfort.

A young woman clings to the rails and is slowly but steadily pulling herself to the doors leading below deck. A man goes tumbling over the railing in front of her, and she just barely manages to grab him and avoid going over with him.

She puts all her small body to pulling him back in, calling out for the rest of her crew to help her. A second pair of hands, a man much older and stronger than the two of them, sets the unfortunate man's feet back on the ground. The nearly-lost shipmate was barely more than sixteen, and clings to his rescuers, sobbing like a baby. The two don't blame him, had they nearly been swept away to be thrown to the unforgiving ocean below like the toy of a spoiled toddler, they'd be pretty weak at the knees too. For the woman, she knows the feeling personally. This isn't the first storm she's had to fly through, and it certainly wouldn't be her last. She's terrified, cold, and exhausted, but there's a thin layer of manic excitement simmering below the calm, determined exterior. She knows she's crazy, but she'd like to ride this out on the top deck.

"Get below deck!" The large man shouts. "This is no place for lightweights!"

 "What do you think we're trying to do!?" She retorts. "Don't worry about me, Stanley, I can handle a little storm—not so sure about this little boy, though!"

 "You may dress like a man, ma'am, and sometimes you may act like one, but you sure as hell ain't one. But I'm not telling you because you're a woman, I'm telling you because you're mousy and I don't wanna have to stop you from flying off like a kite for a third time! Now GO!"

"I AM!"  

He grabs the two and shoves them along anyway. He slams the door behind them, muffling the war on weather outside. The woman half-carries the boy to a small room off to the side, away from the people rushing in and out. It's a storage closet, small and cramped, but supported with steel. In the event that they do go down, there's no safer place to be.

"You alright, little guy?" She asks, with a small, shaky laugh. "Quite a breeze out there, eh?"

The boy gulps and looks at her with a mix of hysteria and awe. "I n-nearly... I nearly..."

"Yes, but you didn't." There's a crash of thunder, and the whole ship shakes, rattling the objects on the shelves. Thank god they're secured... "I got you in time."

"Wh... Thanks." More shouting voices pass their closet and there's the sound of the door opening again. "Are we gonna crash?"

"I hope not, we haven't tested this to be sure it's seaworthy." Another anxious giggle. "We're heading home for that now."

"This really your ship?" The boy asked, calming down but still shivering.

"Yes, it is... here, I think there're..." She tugged two thick blankets off the shelves and wrapped one around him. "There. Better?"

"Y-yes ma'am... why were you on deck? And why're you dressed like..." He motioned to her suit and made a face.

She huffed. "Dressed like a man? Simple! I was wearing practical clothes to do every practical thing trying to adjust our course to avoid the brunt of this damnable storm. What's your name, boy?"

"A-Arthur, ma'am, I didn't mean to offend—"

"It's nothing. You put it more politely than most. Arthur... pleasure to meet you."

"Y-you too, ma'am."

"Call me—" The closet shook again. "Oh dear..."

The whole thing tilted dangerously, and the woman slid forward into Arthur.

"Oh no no no no...."

She braced herself for the sound of cables snapping. None came, and the small room swung back, throwing them both against the door.

"It's like a carnival ride!" She exclaimed, giggling nervously again.

"I dunno what carnival's you've been in lady, but I don't wanna go on anything that moves like this." Arthur grumbled, provoking another laugh from the woman.

CRASH!

Ship began bucking and tilting again, and the pair gripped the shelves to keep themselves upright. More shouting filled the halls, and someone shouted fire...

"Oh no." The woman went pale. "We've been hit."

"Hit?"

"Yes! Hit! By lightening—Oh Christ, if it keeps swinging around like this, it's going to—"

SNAP!

The woman screamed and gripped the shelves tighter. Meanwhile, the airship began to fall...