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They looked to each other for a moment then everyone did the same thing. They rushed into the dirigible. O’Connell yelled. “Izzy, take off! Take off!”

The black dude was enjoying a bottle of brandy when he heard the yell. He turned his head to where O’Connell was pointing. The bottle dropped to the deck and he yelled in reply. “I knew I would be in bad luck following you. I knew it…” He unsheathed the sword on his waist and cut off the rope tying the dirigible. Everyone else had gotten up to the deck by this time. They stared as the sandstorm was coming closer and closer why the dirigible moved ever so slowly.

“F*ck.” O’Connell was panicking. He grabbed Izzy. “Why the heck did you change from piloting airplanes to a dirigible?”

Izzy yelled back at him. “Heck, like I am listening to you and drive a plane into the enemies again. If you don’t let go of me, we are all going to have our asses kicked.”

As the sandstorm got closer, it was shaping into something.