Vol 11: Chapter 6-3.

Vol 11: Chapter 6-3.

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...

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