Killswitch Chronicles- The Complete Anthology

by G. R. Carter

  “We may have an opportunity here. ARK’s got their timing off. The river force is going to be behind the rest by at least an hour. We use the 88s to engage anything trying to force our northern walls. They don’t know we have those, so it should be a rude surprise. Maybe even enough to get them to call off the raid.”

  Huffman smiled. “That’s good, John. A nasty shock could cause some real confusion in the dark. Will they land their river force on the north side of the wall to support whoever’s coming across the bridge?”

  “No. They’ll use something to blow the floodwall, then come right in the downtown. That’s where we’re weakest. We’ll sortie our own boats, but we don’t have night fighting capability. I’m assuming they do somehow, otherwise they wouldn’t be trying this,” Bolin said.

  “They’ll use the airships,” Essie broke in. “All of them have Gatling guns on the belly. They fired a few rounds at me over Grand Tower. Once they dropped their bombs on the city, they’ll circle every airship they have over the river and chew our boats up.”

  “How do you know that?” Huffman asked.

  “Because it’s what I would do. I was trained in the same academy, remember? Old Main teaches a certain philosophy, and ARK follows the book,” Essie replied.

  The room was quiet. Nervous tension built as everyone’s internal clocks ticked. Muffled booms began to fill the room making otherwise brave people reflexively stare at the ceiling. Well-lit and perched on top of a hill, this building would be a prime target for the bombers.

  “All right, everyone, let’s move to the housing units. We’ll hope ARK just bombs the downtown and misses our homes. Remember, people need to see us calm. Get everyone who isn’t old enough to carry a weapon moving toward the bridge, then see to your assigned areas of defense. John, I’m granting you full command authority until the morning. We will all comply with your orders,” Huffman said. “Now let’s walk, we can finish our discussion on the way.”

  Without haste or panic, the Electors all filed out of the room, leaving John and Essie last to depart. Essie grabbed John’s arm before he could leave.

  “John, I’m going to the airfield.”

  He stopped and dropped his head. With a sigh, he said, “I figured as much. I don’t suppose I can talk you out of it.”

  “I wish you could. I’ve never flown at night without Sam on my wing.”

  “How will you navigate?”

  “Well, for once I’m glad there’s some solar storm activity. The river will be well lit with the navigation fires. I’ll just use that as a reference point.”

  He turned and took her hands in his. “I guess we’ve all got a pretty low probability of getting out of this. You’ve got just as good of chance up there as down here.”

  Essie gave him a fake pout and a punch on the arm. “Wow. You really know how to give a great pep talk. They teach you that in the Marine Corps?”

  He smiled at her, his warrior eyes finding peace in hers. “Somehow, someway, Essie girl, you’ll find a way to get through. Without a doubt, there’ll be a trail of pissed-off mobsters along that path.”

  “See, that’s a much better speech! I knew you had it in you,” she said as she reached up to hug his muscular neck. “Now let’s get out of this giant bull’s-eye before some ARK gasbag drops a lucky one on top of our heads.”

  Big Muddy River

  Just off Mississippi River’s Main Channel

  45 Minutes after ARK Vessels Spotted

  “You sure you want to do this, Bisso? It’s probably a suicide mission. Those are ARK Citizens you’ll be killing if you go with me.”

  Bisso didn’t hesitate. “I’m sure, Captain Oliver. I don’t think I was cut out for Citizenship anyway. I’m just a river rat. Always have been, always will be.”

  “Okay, then. You’re now officially a Captain in the soon-to-be defunct Mt. Horab Navy’s Northern Fleet,” Oliver said with a sarcastic laugh. “Senior Elector Huffman put me in charge of recruiting and outfitting. Let’s see if we can get these two old boats into action. I’ll let you take Wasp and I’ll take Firefly.”

  “With respect, Captain, I don’t think that’s a good idea. Wasp is your boat and she’s in the best shape of the two. The best captain should be with the boat capable of doing the most damage.”

  Oliver started to argue and then stopped. Bisso was right, of course. It was the only logical choice. They had a handful of experienced men to go with their otherwise green volunteers. Firefly had been patched together after taking the direct hit that killed her previous captain. Depending on what ARK had steaming towards them, that boat’s chances of making it through the night were slim. Wasp on the other hand was in good shape, patched up and even enhanced by Levi Marshall and his crew.

  Both boats were fueled and armed, sitting and waiting a mile up the Big Muddy for the signal to head downstream and join the fight brewing for their new homeland. Oliver held little hope for success—ARK just had too many weapons and men. Even if by some miracle Mt. Horab was still standing in the morning, the victory would weaken them to the point they’d have to agree to some terms with their tormentors.

  Still, Oliver was at peace with his decision. He had requested, and been granted, amnesty by the Elector’s Table. Even now ARK was still expecting him to be in Mt. Vernon, waiting to be handed over with his crew. Even the Red Hawks didn’t know he was leaving. Long talks with Huffman had led Oliver to believe in something bigger. He didn’t count himself a believer in everything spiritually the way the Buckles were; at least, not yet. But he had come to believe in what the little city was trying to accomplish. For once in his life he felt like he was actually from somewhere, even though he had yet to even find a permanent place to live. In fact, if he lived through the night, he would probably stay out on the river the rest of his days. But he’d be doing that for a cause greater than himself, even if he was still learning what that cause was all about.

  “Captain Oliver!” he heard a shout. “I see two green flares to the north!”

  Oliver looked up and confirmed the sight. Both ships’ crews gathered around him, nervous and anxious for orders.

  “All right, my motley crew,” he said with a hearty smile. Laughs and mild jeers came as a reply from the twenty men gathered in front of him. “We’ve got a big job ahead of us tonight. The work will be tough. If anyone is having second thoughts about what we’re about to try, step off now. You had better believe this fight is worth dying for, because we all stand a solid chance of doing just that. Go ahead, I won’t think less of you for it.”

  “We’re with you, Captain,” a voice shouted from the dark. Oliver couldn’t see most of the detail of most of their faces, just an outline in the pale light of the moon and storms but the feeling was there. A string of hurrahs and sailor cheers followed confirming his hopes.

  “And I’m with you. I’m not a big one for speeches, so let me just say this. Tonight, we fight tooth and nail. We fight like not only our lives depends on it, but the life of every man, woman and child back in Mt. Horab. Some of you new guys are from there, so you got a little extra oomph in you for the fight. Well, let me tell you something, those folks gave me the first real chance at a home this river rat’s ever had. I’ll fight for that. Now let’s hit those folks floating south a good hard punch in the nose and send them back home so’s we can get some sleep! Aye?”

  “AYE!” came the enthusiastic reply.

  “Then get to your stations. Anyone not working the ship stay below decks until we call you. When I give the order, get up top and unleash the inferno.”

  *****

  “Jackson Outpost is burning Elector Bolin!”

  John Bolin, commander of Mt. Horab’s defenses kept his field glasses up to his face, doing his best to hide his concern. It was dark up here in the lookout tower, one of many standing fifty feet in the air along earthen berms built on what had once been Lexington Avenue. The only light came from the occasional solar storm burst, and the faint glow of burning buildings
.

  “Our men are out of there, Austin. ARK’s wasting time burning stuff we don’t need,” John replied to the young militiaman. Jackson Outpost was Mt. Horab’s first line of defense; first besides the bridges over old Interstate 55 and Old Appleton – now bypassed and captured respectively by ARK commandos and armor.

  John Bolin hated to admit that part of him only felt alive in stressful situations like these. The metal of a man, or woman in these days, was only truly tested in combat. The stuffy polyester coat and button-down shirt of an Elector was gone, replaced by a well-worn set of US Army BDU’s salvaged from the storage room of a local National Guard armory. His whole mindset changed when he put on a uniform…no longer responsible for rations or politics or even the spiritual wellbeing of his citizens – he was here tonight to fight.

  The plan was a solid one, looking back there wasn’t anything he would have done differently. His defense scheme came from his brief Marine service ending with the stand down of the branch itself. ARK just had too many men, too much equipment and Mt. Horab could muster only enough to defend themselves in one spot at one time. His job was to guess where the bulk of ARK forces would strike, and try to buy as much time as he could for the city’s citizens to evacuate across the river to the refuge set up for them by the Red Hawks.

  “Flood the canals,” Bolin said calmly to Austin, spurring the young man to turn and begin to climb down and execute his orders. “Hey Austin,” Bolin shouted again. The teenager turned to look at his commanding officer and second cousin. “Be careful. Trigger the charges and then get back here ASAP!”

  Something bothered Bolin about ARK’s actions so far tonight. The bridge at Old Appleton should have been blown at the first sign of trouble, but the outpost fell quickly due to a masterful airship insertion of Peacekeepers. Only a small handful of his men made it back to give him the bad news. Following that catastrophe Bolin expected ARK’s full force of armor and infantry to hit Horab’s walls right here, the most easily accessible entry point through the city’s outer defensive ring. Inexplicably, the lead ARK elements were taking their time, even stopping to burn and pillage.

  Doubt clouded Bolin’s thoughts. Maybe they’re waiting to let their river force catch up? ARK appeared to get their timing wrong, meaning any attack from the river would be behind the land force. He just prayed that Liam Oliver and his little fleet would bottle up ARK’s vastly superior force at Grand Tower Island. Can’t worry about that now. Have to worry about what I can control here.

  He heard muffled booms and crashes as ARK airships began to pound Mt. Horab’s downtown just south of his location. Another worry swirled around, this time directed at his fiancé, probably already in her little T-34 plane trying to at least harass the gasbags indiscriminately killing his countrymen. The sound of exploding bombs meant she hadn’t succeeded in scaring them off…or worse he thought.

  “Shake out of it Bolin, everyone does their duty tonight,” he murmured to himself.

  Two more booms, this time much closer told him that Austin had reached the detonators to blow walls holding back enough river water to flood canals dug in front of the berms. He waited a moment, then another set of booms echoed through the night air. Water would soon gush through a jagged series of channels between the outer defenses where he sat now and the much higher and stronger inner walls built around the heart of the city. He had already ordered most of his men to filter back there, to the relative safety of the inner defensive ring.

  Instinct gnawed at him again. The delay in ARK’s attack just wasn’t right, they were distracting Horab’s defenders. He wasn’t sure if he’d figure it out before they hit, but after the surprise at Old Appleton, he couldn’t afford to have any more of his limited forces cut off and lost. Hopefully, the marshy ground being deluged with river water would slow ARK when they finally did decide to attack and give him time to react to whatever surprise they had in store.

  He took one final look around, then a brief glance up to the sky. He couldn’t see anything but dull green glares coming from hundreds, maybe thousands, of feet up. A deep sigh at his inability to do anything about those…or her. He swung a heavy boot towards the ladder leading to ground level.

  Just below, two converted grain trucks idled, half concealed in a cloud of biodiesel exhaust smoke visible even in the limited light. The wheeled monsters were an odd site, devoid of any cab or the box once used to carry corn and beans to a grain elevator. Instead, a long gun barrel stuck out over the rear axles, with just enough recoil room behind to keep the muzzle from sliding back into the driver’s seat. The only armor was a thick steel plate surrounding the loading area, any other protection had been sacrificed for time and weight. The cannons were based on plans for the WW2 era FLAK 88, capable of firing armor killing shells, high explosives, or even anti-aircraft. The latter was an oversight on his part; this mounted design didn’t allow the guns to be elevated enough to hit airborne foes.

  Mt. Horab didn’t have many of the amazingly versatile weapons, and only the Red Hawk Republic knew they had any at all. Bolin had hoped to knock out a few of ARK’s armored trucks as they came careening towards the wall. He knew he’d probably lose them here after ARK punched through with overwhelming numbers. But maybe, just maybe, the sight of their vehicles bursting into flames would curb a little enthusiasm they had for rushing in.

  What are you up to Diamante? You want me to miss something…what do you not want me to see? He climbed into a crew seat welded onto the frame of the mobile guns. He wasn’t just commanding this group, he actually helped crew one the guns himself.

  “Where to, sir?” Austin asked from the driver’s seat.

  “Take us up to Big Bend Road,” he replied. “Let’s check in with the Bertling Street outpost there. They’re kind of out there on their own between us and the river. Let’s just make sure everything’s okay over there. “

  *****

  Essie Hamilton tried to keep from becoming fixated on the scene below - Mt. Horab was burning. Fires appeared small from her altitude, but she knew raging infernos consumed the ground where her fiancé was. The beautiful little city she had adopted as her own looked like a postcard just this morning. She knew no matter how successful they were in holding off ARK’s overwhelming assault tonight, it would be years before the damage could be repaired.

  She tried to clear her head and focus on the task at hand. Taking off in the dark hadn’t been particularly difficult. She knew her plane and the runway layout with her eyes closed. She spent every available minute around both. But now that she was up a half mile above the ground the rage and adrenaline of the moment faded, replaced by the somber realization of what she was up against. Not only did she have to find and engage an enemy she could barely see, she had to keep from colliding with them. Then to survive she had to find the airport again to attempt a landing with no lights. This was her maiden solo night flight, aloft in the dark for the first time without the watchful eye of the Republic’s ace pilot. Sam Hamilton would probably ground her, literally, for the rest of her life after this stunt. She hoped he’d have his chance…

  Blurry outlines came into view as reflections of the blazes sparkled off an airship’s shiny skin. Her eyes scanned back and forth, trying to do a quick count on how many were circling; six was the number she settled on. A plan developed in her mind as she banked to head south over the river. Memorial Bridge, Mt. Horab’s lifeline to Republic territory on the eastern side of the river, was pitch black but she knew there was a convoy there carrying as many Buckles and their belongings as possible. Just below on the river would be any surviving boats in Mt. Horab’s navy, doing the exact same thing.

  The Electors had agreed the city itself was probably lost and that the most important thing was to save the people. They also acknowledged that after the events of the last few weeks ARK would be out for revenge. If they were willing to fire bomb the city, nothing would stop them from using the airship guns to eliminate as many Buckles as they could during the escape.
Rage boiled in Essie again. Fighting was one thing, but killing innocents, that was too much. Even when bands of ditchers were wiped out children were always spared and placed in Unified Church orphanages. ARK was going to wipe out her adopted people tonight if she didn’t stop them.

  Satisfied she had covered enough distance, she banked around and headed back towards the bridge. A few fiery clouds still lifted up from Mt. Horab itself, giving her some hope that she could stop the ARK before they began strafing the bridge. The massive cigar shape of an airship appeared out of nowhere, filling her windscreen. Instinctively she flipped the safety off her trigger and squeezed a burst from the wing mounted cannons. Streaks lashed out and disappeared, apparently with no affect. Disappointed and desperate to stop the hulking threat, she jerked the stick to bank the plane and make another pass. She flew a few seconds and then banked again to make the return run, shocked and dazzled at the huge blaze hanging over the river. The view of a burning airship was spectacular in the daytime, but at night it was indescribable. The nose of the stricken craft was already beginning to point up as the tail settled. Orange tongues of flame licked up towards the stars as the skin peeled away revealing a glowing metal crisscross framework skeleton inside.

  The flames illuminated the bridge and boats below and a brief fear slipped into her mind that the molten remains of the airship might land on those she was trying to save. But the bridge was further away than she thought, allowing her a moment of peace. Other airships were highlighted by the flames, their bright shiny skins like a lighted billboard of her youth. They were arrayed almost as a shooting gallery, nose to tail in a line just past the bridge. Essie guessed they were each waiting their turn to take a run at the bridge, and grinned under her scarf. What are you going to do now tough guys?

  She tried not to look at the engulfed airship, but already her night vision was ruined for the moment. Essie blinked out the vision of the burning vessel, looking out into the pitch-black sky to the south. She pushed the plane to gain altitude, turned and searched past where her first target was still descending into the river. Her surviving prey had changed position. Now instead of the clear silhouettes of their massive flanks, all she could see was the occasional reflection off a tail fin. They were headed north, back towards the safety of their bases. Her heart leapt for a moment, with a few rounds of cannon fire she had prevented ARK from slaughtering the people on the bridge below!