Against the Storm: A Fortress Farm Novel

by G. R. Carter

Alex was about to interject when a huge explosion rattled the glass of the Cathedral. Sam, Martin and Bonner all jumped up and headed to the door. Two Home Shield troops silently standing guard in the shadows moved immediately beside Alex, flanked by Tyr and Fen, Alex’s personal Guardian dogs. Rebekah was also up and moving to make sure the Hamilton children were still safe and secure, followed closely by another Shieldholder and her own Guardian.

  “I need to see what’s going on,” Alex demanded. The Shields helped him up, then one led the way to the door while the other stayed just off the Founder’s shoulder. None begrudged Alex his wounds, suffered in a selfless act of heroism. But moments like these made him long for the days when he could fight anyone or anything.

  They stepped outside into a world of chaos. Flames poured from the windows of Tecumseh House and people ran towards it with axes and buckets. House fires were common in this era when candles and open fires once more lit and heated homes. The drill was well rehearsed even in a crisis.

  An even larger blaze came from just above the trees to their west, something huge was on fire…ARKShip One, Alex thought in horror. Then he remembered the boom; none of this was a simple accident. This was a deliberate act of sabotage. Terror struck him as he suddenly remembered his friends and allies staying the night in the burning mansion.

  “We have to get over there and help!” he screamed and began to step as quickly as his cane would allow.

  “Alex, no!” he heard Rebekah shout behind him. “Whoever did this is smart enough to know you weren’t there! That means they’ll be coming for you in the confusion! And maybe the kids, too!”

  Alex looked again at the flames licking out of a gaping hole in the side of the mansion. Then he glanced at ARK’s flagship, already engulfed. Uncle Jack Diamante and his entourage were probably already dead. There was nothing he could do there, and there was plenty he could do here.

  Without warning Tyr growled and leapt off to the corner of the cathedral. A crisp tung sound followed by a yelp made Alex and the two Shieldholders beside him pivot and crouch. Hours of endless training kicked in as they scanned the night for any threats. Another tung and one Shieldholder pitched backwards, a fletched crossbow bolt sticking out of his chest. The other Shieldholder grabbed Alex and shielded him with his own body while pushing them through the cathedral door. The mass of the two-hundred-pound man forced a wobbly Alex to the ground. Lying there on the hardwood floor, Alex could tell his protector was unconscious or worse.

  The room exploded in a bright flash as two automatic weapons opened fire above him. Unsure why assassins using crossbows would now switch to machine guns, he realized the two firing were Rebekah and her personal Shieldholder. Both women held perfect firing stances, scanning back and forth at the doorway. With a wave of her hand, Rebekah motioned for the other woman to grab Alex and pull him from underneath his human shield. Alex grabbed his cane, then got to his feet and took out his sidearm. The trio slowly walked backward, Rebekah glancing over her shoulder to check for obstacles or threats behind them. They reached the library, where the Hamilton children and their nanny crouched surrounded by the surviving Guardians.

  “Now, Allison!” Rebekah commanded the nanny, who jumped up with the grace of a trained soldier, betraying her role as more than just a caretaker of children. She shifted the Hamilton’s infant son in one hand and pulled open the hidden entrance to a safe room. Standard in each Unified Church building, the structure once designed to shield parishioners in case of bandit attack would now shelter the Hamilton family until help arrived.

  As his family filed into the narrow entrance, Alex heard the sound of automatic fire outside the building. Then a clunk as something hard and dense hit the hardwood somewhere in the shadows of the library.

  Alex recognized the sound. “Grenade!” he shouted, lunging to grab Rebekah and throw her to the ground. Her Shieldholder beat him to the task. Alex ended up landing on top of both just as the blast went off.

  His ears were ringing as he rolled off to look up at a masked figure standing above him.

  “Not so big and bad now, eh, Founder?” the figure asked, lifting a pre-Reset-style crossbow to Alex’s head.

  Like lightning, the Alex of old was back. Quick reflexes whipped his cane up while pulling a release built into the handle. The lever triggered a six-inch razor-sharp blade out of the bottom of the cane, and it fully extended just in time to plunge into the assassin’s groin. The masked man dropped the crossbow and grabbed at the wound while pitching backwards. In an instant, Rebekah and her Shieldholder were up and holding weapons at the ready.

  A voice from outside saved the assassin a deathblow from all three. “Alex! It’s me, Martin! We’re all clear out here! Are you okay?” Relief washed over him as Alex heard his trusted friend’s voice; his family would be safe now.

  “We’re fine. Come on in,” Alex half yelled while stepping over to the assassin writhing on the floor.

  “Van! Festun!” Alex yelled and pointed. His surviving Guardian bounded into the room and pinned the wounded man down just as commanded, gleaming white fangs inches away from soft, prickling flesh. The man was clearly terrified of dogs, and Alex wasn’t sure if the dark spot on his pants was blood from the wound or urine from terror.

  “Why? Why’d you try to murder my family, my friends, me!” Alex growled, his voice growing louder and more vicious with each syllable.

  “You left us behind!” the man said, sobbing in rage and pain. “We been fighting everyone since the darkness fell. Jijis, Americans, wild men…we thought you’s was goin’ to help us…we fought for ya, ‘member dat? And you go and put up your wall…leave us all to live under those crazies. Just abandoned us like we was trash!”

  Alex looked up at Rebekah. She looked just as confused, trying to process what the man under his blade was trying to say.

  “You’s can kill me if ya wish, Founder,” the man stammered in agony. “I won’t talk to ya, ever... The Mahdi’s coming for ya…Caliphate’s goin’ ta kill you all…You dead whatever you’s do to me…”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Grand Tower Island Power Plant

  Forward River Operating Base

  Year 12 A.G.R.

  Two Days after the Attack on Mt. Vernon

  Sirens echoed through the walls of the barracks, making Levi nearly jump out of his bed. “Boss Marshall, wake up! ARK’s coming!”

  Levi rubbed his head, trying to make sense of the words through his groggy mind. “Don’t call me boss, Dakota. Just Levi, okay? And settle down. What do you mean ARK’s coming?”

  “We got the signal from the lookouts up by Kaskaskia. Came in by cable just a few minutes ago. A long line of ships, as far as they could see! Twenty or maybe even thirty! Who knew they had that many ships, Levi?”

  “Did you hear from the Chester outpost or Degognia Mine yet?” Levi asked.

  “No, I just came straight here. Reckon they’ve got word by now. What’s our move?”

  Levi took a moment to think. “Get back down to the cable office. We need to find out what the upriver settlements are going to do, then see if we can get into contact with the Electors. We’ll need to know if they want us to fight for the base here or pull back to help Mt. Horab.”

  Dakota hesitated. “What do you mean fight? There’s no way we can stop that much firepower. We’ll get blown away.”

  All the other men were awake and moving in the room, watching the conversation take place. Levi surprised them, and himself, when he grabbed the young messenger by the shirt and pushed him against the wall. “We stay and fight because if we don’t those ARK mobsters are gonna float right into our home and burn it to the ground!” He let Dakota go and turned to his work crews gathered around. River rats were tough men, not soldiers by trade but unafraid to fight. Levi had confidence they’d rise to the task, but figured he better make it clear what was at stake. “Mt. Horab needs us! We’ve been shot up, bombed out, seen our friends killed…no more! The Electors sent us weapons to d
efend ourselves, and we won’t let them down!”

  Levi calmed himself, but kept an elevated voice. “We didn’t ask for this fight, ARK did. And I mean to give it to them. The harder we make it on them here, the longer Mt. Horab has to get ready to defend herself.” He locked eyes with his men, anxious to steel their resolve. “Get ready. Unless we’re told otherwise, we make our stand here!”

  *****

  Sky above Route 61 Bridge

  Old Appleton, Missouri

  Mt. Horab Territory

  “Flares ahead, Admiral Romano,” Lt. Thomas reported. “Two reds and two blues, we have confirmation of contact.”

  Romano nodded his head, unseen in the low green light. ARKShip Tulsa’s crew had a ghostly appearance in the dim glow as they managed their respective controls. As Romano himself didn’t have a specific task right now, he busied himself looking once more at the maps in front of him. He’d stared at the same charts for several hours since they took off from their base west of ARK City. All eight skyships with him had made a big scene of their western departure, making it clear to everyone they were heading the Kansas City territory. The crews were all told the skyship squadron had important business out there, carrying several squads of highly-trained Peacekeepers to fight insurgents threatening AKR’s expansion. The skyships would have a chance to also provide close air support to their ground pounders; every man and woman on board was happy for a chance to redeem their craft after the Grand Tower Island debacle.

  Unbeknownst to the crew, or the curious eyes tracking their every move in the daylight, Romano had changed their course immediately after dark. He had them tack south, against a slight breeze blowing northeast. For once the RenOne weather models had been right, making his course calculations bring them to the exact waypoint right on time to head towards their true target with the breeze at his back. He glanced at his wind up pocket watch…the dayglow hands said 1:00 a.m. exactly. Each skyship captain would be giving the same speech to his or her crew that Romano started now.

  “Attention everyone, this is the Admiral speaking. In exactly five minutes, our skyships will descend to ground and disembark the Peacekeeper force on board. We have been assigned the most critical mission ARK has attempted since the Reset. As of this moment, our squadron hovers above Apple Creek, on the edges of Mt. Horab territory. As you all know, the Buckles are responsible for the deaths of many of our people, and threaten our very way of life. The Premier has given us—given you—the honor of proving our countrymen didn’t die in vain. Together with our ground pounders, we will seize the bridge below us, allowing our armored forces to move through and take the city of Mt. Horab. Even now, ARK naval vessels are on river towards Mt. Horab, clearing their defenses north of the city.

  “After we have successfully unloaded the ground pounders, and made sure they have completed their mission, we will move to the next phase. We have been tasked with delivering the Buckles a very harsh reminder of what it means to attack ARK. We will continue on and attack the city itself, using both our incendiaries and our Gatling to support the armored and naval components. Together, we will complete the first combined forces attack in the post-Reset world.

  “I am proud of each and every one of you, and I know that you will do your duty. Your officers have the exact orders and instructions you need. Best of luck to us all.”

  Romano hung up the speaker, then checked his watch again.

  “We’re over the flares, Admiral.”

  “Very good, Lieutenant. Let’s begin our descent.”

  Romano heard the engines change their tone, subtle hums of low power giving way to near silence except for the sound of valves discharging the buoyant gas contained in the cells above.

  “We’re ready to make the leap,” the Peacekeeper colonel in charge of the operation said in the dark.

  “Understood, Colonel. Wait for the sound of our engines reversing, then send your repellers. Tie us off to whatever sturdy trees you can find. Once your last man is out, give the signal and cut the ropes. We’ll wait for you to engage the enemy. When you have, give us directional flares and get your men under cover. We’ll each make one pass over their lines with the Gatling, then we’re headed for Buckle country. Understood?”

  “Understood, Admiral. Thanks for the lift.”

  Romano smiled at the compliment. His squadron was about to successfully insert two hundred of the most well-trained and well-equipped soldiers in all of ARK right under Buckle noses in the middle of the night. Instead of having to slug their way through fanatical defenders, the armored column should be able to pass over a captured bridge in just a couple of hours. The move would bypass the fortress built by Mt. Horab atop of the only other surviving bridge crossing Apple Creek, along old Interstate 55, and give ARK’s Peacekeepers a clear path all the way to the walls of the city.

  On Romano’s signal, the Tulsa’s engines went to near full power, this time pushing her down in a rapid descent. At one hundred feet, the engines were reversed, wobbling the crew’s knees for just a moment. Just as quickly the engines were cut and they hovered in silence. They could feel the vibrations through the deck plates as twenty-five fully loaded men got off one by one in quick succession.

  Moments later a series of jerks signaled the cutting of the tie-off lines, and the engines revved again, causing Tulsa to gain altitude. One by one, each skyship in the squadron performed the same task without incident, a remarkable feat accomplished with only about a dozen practice runs on an open airfield in the preceding week.

  As Tulsa reached cruising height, she began a slow circle of the landing zone, waiting for the fluorescent stripes on top of her sister ships to rise up to meet her. They hovered there, waiting for the next signal from the Peacekeeper force below. Romano fought the urge to scan the skies for signs of the fighter planes the Buckles had used against him at Grand Tower. ARK intelligence was confident they were old T-34s, likely from an aerobatic squadron popular at air shows before the Reset. Quite deadly in daylight, but little to no chance of night fighting capability. Romano swore inwardly; he was anxious for ARK engineers to complete plans for mounting self-defense guns on the skyships.

  His mind returned to the task, searching in the dark below for any signal of trouble for the ground pounders. No flares yet…each passing second let doubt creep into his mind. Did the Buckles mousetrap the airborne troops? Wait for the skyships to leave and cut their chance of retreat before pouncing? They’re crafty, that’s for sure…

  They were in his head, he knew that now. A cold sweat gathered near his hairline and under his nose—he once more fought the urge to search the skies for that beautiful young pilot, the one who had wanted to kill him…

  Bright flashes lit up a section of the forest below. Another bright yellow burst answered a short distance away. Romano thought he heard a crackling noise. Streaks of yellowish white pierced the dark, reaching out from one group to the other. A succession of twinkling flashes in a line illuminated the bridge over Apple Creek for a moment, then all was dark again accept for the green light of the cabin. Romano blinked the image out of his eyes, checking the ship’s compass and trying to return his spatial awareness. As if on cue, a quick burst of solar flares sliced through the heavens above, giving him another glimpse of the Buckle defenders. He could see vehicles massing on the southern side of the bridge, sending out occasional streaks to the south.

  Confusion, Romano thought with satisfaction. He couldn’t hear the words, but he knew what the Buckles were trying to figure out: why is someone attacking them from the south, when ARK should be coming from the north?

  “Normalcy bias is a dirty mistress, boys. Should have studied small squadron tactics at Old Main like we did,” Romano murmured quietly.

  “I’m sorry, what was that, Admiral?” Lieutenant Thomas asked.

  “Nothing, Lieutenant, just thinking out loud. Tell the Gatling to prepare for ground support, but not to fire until my order.”

  “Aye-aye, Admiral.”

&nb
sp; Flares began to ignite. Bright white bursts hung in the sky below, suspended by parachutes designed to give the skyships about thirty seconds of ground visibility. Romano meant to use each moment.

  “Gatling, weapons free! Fire at anything that moves, but don’t hit that bridge!”

  More flares popped, and Romano watched ant-sized figures scrambling back and forth, probably looking for cover and night blind from instinctively looking up at the flares that hung overhead. Good, let them get a look at their deaths from a fire-breathing dragon he thought.

  The belly-mounted Gatling opened fire, pouring a hot stream of fire on the targets below. Quick bursts vibrated the entire ship, matched by other bright flashes from the Tulsa’s sister ships surrounding her at nearly identical altitude. Occasionally a streak from the ground would reach up towards the skyships, but the constant torrent of lead from the 1000-round-per-minute weapons kept all but the most foolhardy hugging mother earth.

  Several vehicles were on fire now, lending their own candlepower to the target area. Romano could see trees falling from the buzz saw force of his weapons. Water from the creek went up in geysers along the edge, a little too near the bridge for his liking.

  “Tell the Gatling to stay away from that bridge!” he yelled to Thomas.

  He glanced once more at his watch. Only eleven minutes had passed since they dropped the Peacekeepers, already one minute past his scheduled mark.

  “Lieutenant Thomas, signal the squadron to disengage and set course for Waypoint Delta. The ground pounders can take it from here.” Romano allowed himself a little grin, unseen by his crew in the dim light. All right, you Buckle bastards. Time for some payback.

  *****

  Red Hawk Republic Capitol Building

  City of Philippi

  30 Minutes after ARK Naval Vessels Spotted

  Bright lights lit up the conference room, even at the witching hour. The yellowish glow burned strong now with the steady stream of hydroelectric power generated from turbines at the Lake Shelbyville dam. That same electricity gave life to a black plastic speaker positioned in the middle of the green and silver shield painted on the room’s conference table. A thick cord trailed off onto the floor and through a box cut out in the wall, eventually ending up in the offices of Republic allies all over the Midwest. Crackling static spilled out of the box, filling the silence waiting for a voice to come through from the other side. Alex sat and stared at the little holes cut into the plastic, noticing the dust settled into the bottom curve of each opening. For some reason the thought of how much work it would be to get them all clean popped into his head...