In Darkest London

Chapter 1 ~ Stella {Shipwrecked}

{𝟏𝟖88, 𝐋𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐨n}

Stella knew the crime she was about to commit would see her hang, if caught, but she was going to commit it anyway. She'd watched and waited as the small dirigible sailed in from the north and headed for the faux amber lights. They had been set out to imitate other ships sailing in the skies safe zone high above the city of London. The plan was to steer a ship in the wrong direction and scrape the rooftops of the slums before crash-landing below. She looked to her companion, Flo, noticing the apprehension on her troubled face before returning her focus to the wreckage without hesitation.

They had to move in quick, she was conscious of that. Even in the dead of night the crash landing would have every radio wave from here to St Katharine Docks flagging up the misplaced airspace activity, not to mention the panic the impact would have on Whitechapel's inhabitants. This particular dirigible was just the catch she set the trap for; small in size; minimal bodies on board and most importantly government owned. Stella had looked on in amazement as the vessel skid across rooftops with an almost graceful glide. The drivetrain propeller was visibly damaged as it took off a few tiles and the periscope rendered useless, but the cockpit and above seemed rather resilient. The impact landing was eerily quiet, too. Stella couldn't have planned it better, she thought.

Right, let's do this.

On approach, Stella wondered if she'd encounter anyone conscious, but she was prepared either way. Growing up on the streets had given her a stomach as strong as her arm and she'd had to protect herself long enough to have learned how to defend herself from attack. She placed one hand on the side of the structure to steady herself from the slippery cobbles below. Craning her neck, she raised the lamplight in her other hand high in the air to assess the best place for entry. She looked back down. "Give me a hunch up." She ordered as she placed the light on the ground.

A pair of small, crafty hands entered the light, clasping together, obediently allowing space for Stella's heavy boot to step onto. Using them as a springboard, Stella launched herself up toward a shattered hatch; an over-practised manoeuvre from gaining access to countless unsuspecting dwellings in her youth.

"It's tight." She yelled down as she struggled to wriggle through the slight opening, her leather glove catching on jagged edges before she yanked herself free and disappeared out of sight.

"Stell?" Flo picked up the lamplight and held it up to the darkness.

Stella's hand dropped down. "Come on, we ain't got all evenin'." Flo dropped the light and grabbed Stella's hand. "Bring that!" she hissed pointing to the discarded lantern.

"Oh," Flo let go of her grip, bent to pick up the lamp, placed the copper handle between her teeth and grabbed a hold again, "Rrrready". She murmured.

Stella lifted Flo up to her with ease. Her thin, bony frame slid into the hole like a long steel key through a lock, jagged edges and all. Once aboard the narrow gondola, Stella plucked the lamp from Flo's teeth and led the way toward the cockpit door. She clutched the wheel-lock with her other, bare hand immediately jumping back and dropping the lantern as she lost her footing and hit the deck. The smell of burning flesh accompanied the harsh sting on her palm.

"It's bleedin' hot as fire," she writhed, "We gotta be quick."

She ripped a piece of cloth from her shirt and wrapped it around her hand making a fist. She then ripped another piece and gestured to Flo to do the same. "Gimmie a hand." Stella got to her feet and they both grabbed the lock, pulling it anti-clockwise until a heavy-clunk sounded and thick smoke filled the air as the door cranked ajar.

Inside was cramped. Bits of metal piping swung from the ceiling as the pair tried to clamber their way through to the front navigational windows, a piece narrowly missing Stella's face by but a fraction.