The house was shaking. It was actually shaking. Deryn knew that the house was old because her Da had told her that it was.

"Old houses breathe, little bird." He had told her. Old houses creak, yes, but shaking, that seemed dangerous.

She pulled the covers up to her nose, trying to stiffle her crying. What if the lightning hit the house and set it on fire? What if she couldn't make it out? What if her family couldn't make it out? Jaspert was a daft bugger, he would never make it out alive.

She brought herknees to her chest and held them close, making her no more than a lump in the small wooden bed. She was trying her hardest not to cry, but she kept having to sniff the snot back into her nose loudly.

There was another crash outside and she yelped in fear at the noise.

"Barking Spiders!" She heard a deep voice curse outside her door. The door opened and light poured into her small room. "Deryn?" Her father called out. "Are you all right love?"

"Aye." She sniffed unconvincingly.

"Oh, little bird." Da sighed. He stepped into the room and sat on her bed. The wood creaked under the added weight. He set the glow worm lamp that he had been holding onto the dresser next to her bed and took her into his arms. She furrowed into her father's strong chest. His shirt smelled of lavender and dirt. Like him. "It's all right, little bird. It's all right."

Another crash sounded outside and she almost leapt out.

"It's so loud, Da." She whispered.

"I know, love, I know." He rubbed her back gently, his hand tracing circles and spirals on the flat pane. "You know, light moves faster than sound. So if you count from the flash of the lightning to the sound of the thunder, you can tell how far away the storm is."

There was another flash of light through the window. "One," her father began, "two..."

She joined him. "Three, four, five..."

Deryn opened her eyes.

Six, she counted and another thunderous roar hit the ground. There were no lightning flashes now, only the sound of the gun shots in the distance.

Seven.

Someone in the truck coughed.

Eight.

The truck hit another pothole and she was thrown into the wall again. Alek was sitting across from her. She could see him open his eyes in the low light.

Nine.

Newkirk was snoring next to her and she couldn't understand how he could sleep through this hell.

Ten.

The truck came to a shivering stop. Alek's brows furrow in confusion at the sudden halt.

They had been in the truck for nearly five hours. They had had to wait till nightfall to leave the small war-torn border town where their airship had landed because moving during the day had been deemed unsafe by the French military that were escorting them back to the Leviathan. If the night was considered safe, then Deryn shuddered at the thought of what the road must be like durin the day.

"Why did we stop?" Alek muttered.

She shrugged. "I don't know."

"Should we check with the driver?"

Before she could answer him, she heard a roaring scream from the driver's cabin of the truck.

"GET DOWN!"

She didn't have to think, she grabbed Newkirk's shirt and dove down onto the truck's floor before bullets came tearing through the truck's canvas covering. She felt Newkirk shudder under her as he awoke.

"We need to get out!" She said, and started crawling towards the back hatch of the truck, staying low and keeping her ear towards the ground. She lifted the canvas slightly to see the muddy landscape outside and saw that there was a trench to her right, and mounds of barbed wire to her left. The clouds were flashing in the night sky above her. "There's a trench to the right, we need to get there as fast as we can. Is everyone okay? Has anyone been hit?"

"I'm good." Newkirk said over the gunshots.

"Your princeliness?"

"Yes, Dylan." He grumbled. She could almost laugh. Of course Alek would chose to be moody in the middle of a gun fight.

"Good. I'm going to get out first and get underneath the truck, then you follow me. Aye?"

"Yes, sir." She heard them both say.

She peered again through the canvas, making sure that she was safe before hoisting her leg quickly through the back of the truck. The muddy ground sank under her feet like quicksand and she dove under the truck. It was more like swimming in a swamp than anything else.

The beasties that had been pulling the truck lay dead on the ground at the front. She assumed that the driver was probably dead as well. She hoped that he had been able to flee.

Alek and Newkirk flanked her at both sides as they faced the trench. She felt her chest heave as her heart barreled into her ribs repeatedly. There was a loud bang and the ground a few feet away from them exploaded into muddy fireworks.

One.

She faced her right. "Princeliness, you go first. Keep low and don't make a barking sound."

Then she turned to Newkirk. "You go after me, understand?"

They all looked out onto the maze of barbed wire that stood before them, sheltering the mountain of sandbags that kept the trench safe. There were no gunshots or flashes coming from the trench ahead. They had to have known that there was going to be a transport truck moving through this area. There was no other reason to open fire. At least none that she could think of.

Two.

"Go!" She pushed Alek from under the truck and watched as he slowly got up and surveyed his surroundings. She would have gone first, but then she would not have had a clear view of him at all times. He was her ally, and allies watch each other's backs.

Three.

Deryn crept out from under the truck, staying low towards the ground and scanning her surroundings. Alek had just walked around one of the barbed wire mounds.

Four.

From the corner of her eye, she could see something moving. Newkirk had yet to come out from under the truck. Another flash colored the sky white and she saw the glint of the gun in his hands, pointing towards Alek with rage. The prince's back was turned. She wondered how he didn't see the man with the gun behind him.

Allies watch each other's backs. She felt her legs move into a sprint as she ran around the barbed wire.

"Alek!" She screamed, her voice echoed like the boom of a thunder clap.

Five.