by G. R. Carter
Her elation was short lived, as long pointed blasts from the Gatling guns mounted on the belly of the airships sent metal death into the city. She gunned her engines, once more determined to take out as many as she could. She pitched the plane up, then nosed back over, searching for tear drop shapes bracketed by the flames of the city. She picked one out of the lineup and fired, missing wide and to the left. She pulled up slightly and tried to put another one in her sights, but the angle was wrong. Without a clear shot she decided not to waste the precious cannon shells. There was no flying back for rearming tonight. Have to make each one count…
*****
The forest around John Bolin seemed to explode in splinters. He threw himself on the ground, trying in vain to get underneath the death flying at him from all directions. He raised his head just enough to catch a glimpse of his surviving 88, now burning like its twin. The other was still sitting in the road, pointed towards the two ARK trucks it had dispatched before being torn to shreds by return fire. That crew had all been killed accept one, who scrambled to help John destroy two more ARK trucks with the gun that now burned in front of him.
John could hear men moaning, and some screaming, all around him. He thought he had ARK’s advance stopped here on Big Bend Road. His instinct told him something like this was in the works. Apparently, ARK’s plan all along had been to distract Mt. Horab’s defenders toward the more obvious main routes, then utilize this back way into the city. Besides bypassing the heavily fortified interstate approaches, this route could be supported by ARK’s river gunboats, had they managed to show up on time. I’m glad I was wrong about you Captain Oliver he thought to himself.
The multiple ARK trucks taken out by Buckle guns partially blocked the roadway, and John began to hope they might just stop the armored column in time.
But something changed that. Something he couldn’t see, but apparently could see him. Death from above, seeking to destroy his men and reopen the back door for ARK to drive right through.
More ear-piercing echoes rattled in his brain, more flashes from the sky above, more splinters, more screaming…it was his own voice this time. Not from terror, or pain from the metal and wood shards buried in his leg, but frustration. No matter what he did, his men were dying, his city was burning, and ARK was winning. He needed a miracle.
*****
The old training plane strained as Essie pulled up on the stick. The T-34 was a tough bird but she was certainly testing its limits tonight. She could feel the clock ticking in her head. Fuel would be running low soon, as would any chance to keep the enemy craft from emptying their weapons onto her people. Another pass, maybe two was all she’d have time for, then a decision about how far to follow just for a chance at revenge. Actually, not a choice at all…I’m going to make as many as possible regret being here tonight, at least for a few minutes before they’re dead she thought with grim determination. No matter what it takes.
The nose of the plane aligned with an airship. This time she slowed her airspeed to near stall, took a deep breath and concentrated on the shot. With a one second squeeze of the trigger seventeen rounds reached out from each wing, again disappearing into the dark. A brief fixation on the tiny little flashes of impact left Essie unprepared when the night sky erupted into daylight with the explosion of her target. No slow motion show this time, a wave hit the T-34 just as she gunned the engine for altitude. The invisible push almost caused her to stall but she held on and let the hours of lectures from her older sibling take hold. She flowed with the airplane instead of against it, and let the craft find its own comfort level. Satisfied the worst was over, she tilted her wing and began to bank, partially searching for more targets, partially to observe the destruction she had wrought. Essie felt no remorse. Those weren’t people in those burning death traps, those were demons. She was gunning for ace tonight. She still had rounds left in the cannons and it was too late to turn back for an airport she’d probably never find in the dark anyway.
Another shape came into view. The airships were much slower than she was, so she took her time to make sure this run counted. Dawn was beginning to fill the eastern horizon, giving her renewed hope.
“Hang in there John,” she said out loud, willing her fiancé to make it through the hellish landscape below. “Just a little while longer. We can make it.”
*****
Screams of shock pierced the temporary quiet that fell over the battle field. Groaning metal and violent crashing made John look up from the ground where his face was buried into the leaves and forest debris. The surreal sight of glowing metal beams and white-hot flame spilling down over the road made him gasp. For just an instant, he saw an ARK Peacekeeper look up in disbelief at what was coming down on top of him, then he disappeared in a glowing orange flood. Metal folded in front of his eyes, briefly giving him a glimpse of the word Tulsa in large black letters, then it was gone.
An intense heat surged over his skin, sucking all the breath out his lungs in an instant. Shock saved him from the pain of the burns, leaving only the satisfaction of knowing the road ARK needed to attack what was left of his city was now littered with burning wreckage - blocked for any foreseeable future. He’d bought more time for his city than he ever thought possible. He wasn’t sad or disappointed now…he never expected to make it out of this alive anyway. He would have fought to the last regardless of when the inevitable came. Some part of him was satisfied. His men’s resistance here must have caused the Peacekeepers to call in air support, meaning those damned airships weren’t raining death down on his civilians.
They had done it together. He had stopped them and Essie had killed them.
He had no more strength now, exhaustion held him down on the ground like a boulder. Essie’s face appeared, the smile a perfect combination of sweet and mischievous. He could see her climbing out of her beloved old airplane. The sky was filled with daylight and the birds were singing in a gentle breeze. His mom and dad were there, too. They looked proud of him, like the day he told them he would become a Marine. A little sad, but beaming with pride at their only child. He missed them, it had been so long since he’d been with them, since before the Tribulation took them away. They embraced, then he felt his father’s strong hand grasp his, urging him to follow.
“Okay, Dad,” John murmured through swollen lips. “I’m coming with you. Just let me say goodbye…”
*****
Firefly rocked across the river’s churn as Oliver tried to create a moving target for the guns targeting her. He was at the wheel himself, the two young men who had been here previously were both below decks with the medic fighting for their lives. He was fighting for all their lives now, weaving in and out of the burning wrecks floating helpless downstream. Their funeral pyres lit up the river surface as his cannons fore and aft kept roaring. They were no longer concerned about hitting their sister ship. She sat aflame, grounded in the muddy bank. There was no time to help them now, he’d have to hope that they made it off before the conflagration consumed the entire ship.
Everything else still afloat belonged to ARK, and Oliver intended to fight them until the last of his ammunition was spent. Without slowing the engines, he spun the wheel to angle back to the other bank. Firefly really hadn’t moved north much since the battle began. His plan all along had been to stay just downriver of the old Grand Tower power plant where Levi Marshall had set up the Buckles only hope of stopping ARK’s river invasion.
A bright flash and boom reminded Oliver of the location of that secret weapon, and he adjusted Firefly’s course appropriately. The tube of their 88-mm cannon was visible again in a flash, Levi must be having no trouble finding targets as they appeared around the river bend. Firefly’s mission was to keep ARK boats away from the old grain barge lashed to the power plant’s pier. So far, any ships that had slipped through seemed content just to make it past the gun, not knowing that the Buckles had other surprises waiting for them at Devil’s Bake Oven and Tower Rock. The two natural chokepoints jus
t south of the power plant made the perfect place for land based defenders to engage passing ships. Anything flying the black and white lambda flag that made it through every line of defense would be in rough shape by the time it made it to Mt. Horab.
ARK had provided a couple of nasty surprises themselves tonight. Oliver thought he knew every weapon in his former employer’s arsenal, but he was wrong. Being a student of history, particularly the United States Civil War for obvious reasons, he recognized the profiles of the era’s state of the art weaponry. Even in the uneven visibility of tonight’s battle, he could have sworn he saw what looked for all the world like a river monitor – the ironclad class created by the Union with a rotating turret on top of a flat hull. He’d glimpsed it twice, only briefly, but he was absolutely sure one had steamed past along the western bank.
A guilty part of him hoped it passed on, Firefly’s weapons would be no match against such a vessel. Levi’s barge mounted 88’s shells could penetrate it, but it was set in place, only able to adjust firing lines slightly right to left. The monitor would have maneuverability on its side, probably meaning the fight would have a quick end. So much more to worry about right now. He couldn’t head south to chase it on a hunch, he’d have to keep fighting the immediate threats.
Pounding clangs against Firefly’s armored wheelhouse reminded him there was still plenty else out there that could kill his boat. His visibility was limited through the narrow opening in the armor, he’d have to rely on his gunners to find and engage their own targets. He shoved the throttle forward and felt the satisfying surge of power under his feet. The old girl was in fine form tonight, rising up to each challenge of sudden rudder and prop inputs. The whole vessel shuddered as the fore turret engaged something in the dark. Oliver tried to watch where the tracers were headed, straining to make out a reflection shimmering just above the water.
“Holy…” Oliver didn’t finish the thought, instead slamming the throttle all the way down and spinning the ship’s wheel starboard as quick as he could. He had seen it clearly this time, a cylinder on a flat hull – his ghost monitor was back and headed straight for Levi Marshall’s barge.
There was really nothing Firefly could do to stop a true ironclad. He was completely out of the hand-held rocket tubes that his men had used to damage several ARK vessels. When Levi Marshall had issued them to his volunteers, Oliver finally realized what had severely damaged Wasp that day near Kaskaskia. The hybrid between a bazooka and a Panzerschreck had been his other secret weapon; another gift to Mt. Horab from the Red Hawk Wizards - just not enough to stem the flood of vessels from the north.
Oliver willed his gunner to keep firing, doubting the small shells could penetrate the rounded armor of the monitor, but hoping to at least distract the ARK ship from the 88’s position. Without it, the rest of the ARK flotilla would have an open door to Mt. Horab. He kept the engine’s RPM maxed. In the back of his mind he heard his engineer cursing him but there was no time to worry about overhauls…
He used the few moments to formulate a plan. He quickly sorted through the river boat battles of the Civil War, trying to remember times when the under equipped South had defeated the industrial might of the North. Battle of Plum Point he thought, remembering the gunboat battle just outside of Memphis. In his mind, he tried to calculate the angle and the speed of the monitor, then set the wheel of Firefly on an intercept course. His cannon shells kept reaching out towards the odd shape. He could see ricochets scatter in every direction as sparks flew from impact.
“Aim for the pilot house!” he shouted above the roar of battle. A lucky shot there would keep the monitor from being guided. His gunner continued to pour fire onto the most visible part however, trying to shred it the way he had Firefly’s other kills tonight.
Oliver was close enough now to see a dark spot in the monitor’s turret, becoming more visible as it turned in his direction. His courage was tested as he realized what the dark spot was…
A flash came from the short barrel sticking out from the darkness, but the gunner was too anxious, firing before Firefly was fully in his sights. Oliver thought he saw the shell fly past the wheelhouse, probably his imagination but the feeling was all too real. He wondered how long it might take to reload, then cut the wheel port for a moment, then back to starboard, hoping to unsettle the ARK gunner. A geyser twenty feet in front of the bow announced the arrival of the second shot, sending a cascade of water over Firefly and drenching the gunner and the ship’s bridge.
Oliver didn’t maneuver this time, he was too close to alter course and risk missing his target. A countdown ticked in his head, causing him to involuntarily cringe, waiting for the next shot to come in through the bridge’s opening from point blank range.
He didn’t think to brace himself before the Firefly’s reinforced bow contacted the monitor’s side, a crushing blow that nearly capsized the ARK ironclad. Oliver found himself flying, being flung over the wheel and past the gunner’s station. He hit the fore deck of Firefly with a thud, knocking out his breath but not his consciousness. A moment of eerie calm settled over the ship, interrupted only by the splashing of the water trying to return to its current and the muffled swears of the crew inside the steel and wood turret. His engines were out, Firefly was dead in the water.
Both ships continued to rock back and forth, then the monitor’s muzzle flashed again, sending a shell right through Firefly’s bridge. Oliver felt the air rush past, but the range must have been too close. No explosion followed the point-blank shot. The kinetic energy caused damage enough, sending pieces and parts flying in all directions. Oliver lay on the deck, feeling the groan of stressed metal as the two ships tried to pry apart from one another. More swears and yells came from inside the ARK ship, followed by a door in the turret being flung open just behind the pilot house. Men began to climb out, like angry bears from hibernation. Confusion settled in, followed by more swears as the deck of the monitor became awash with river water.
Sinking Oliver thought with grim satisfaction. He hurt all over, especially his previously wounded shoulder. There was no use in the arm at all now, but willpower forced him to his feet. He used his functioning arm to pull his .45 out of its holster. He pointed it towards the men on the monitor’s deck.
“You’re all prisoners of Mt. Horab. Come peacefully and you will be treated with all the rights of the Geneva Convention,” he spat out. He realized simultaneously that he was slurring his words and that most of these men would be way too young to know what the Geneva Convention was.
“You can barely stand old man,” one of the men shouted back.
Oliver heard ball bearings roll behind him as Firefly’s fore turret spun towards the group. “I don’t need to stand,” his gunner yelled up. “You can take your chance with the river for all I care.”
An uneasy standoff took hold. Oliver and his gunner were outnumbered. They had a crippled boat and no chance of making it to the bank themselves; they were at the mercy of the current.
With a pop the ships detached and quickly ten feet of open water appeared between the two vessels. The monitor crew milled nervously, realizing the stricken vessel wouldn’t be long for the surface. Oliver heard the aft door to engineering slam shut behind him, and two more of his men appeared from below. Each shouldered and aimed Steinbrink 76 rifles in the monitor’s direction; more gifts from Elector John Bolin when they volunteered to join the fight for the Buckles.
“Looks like it’s too late guys,” Oliver shouted to the ARK crew. “I hate that for you, I really do. If any of you can swim the distance, you’ll be given safe travel…well, safe floating I guess…until we’re all rescued.”
The sound of a speeding motor and a boat’s hull slapping the water startled Oliver and his men. They all swung their weapons around to the threat, then relaxed when they recognized a Mt. Horab fast attack boat. The approaching boat’s throttle man cut the engines and the v-shaped hull settled into the water, leaving inertia to bring it close enough to throw a li
ne.
“Captain Oliver,” a voice called out. “It’s me, Levi Marshall.”
“Mr. Marshall, I’m not sure I’ve ever been happier to see someone in my life,” Oliver replied, still slightly slurring. “Though the fact that you’re here instead of on the barge tells me I’ve failed to keep you safe.”
“On the contrary, sir. We just ran out of ammunition. My orders were to fight as long as we could, then get as many men as I could to safety. No last stands, that was an order from the Senior Elector himself. We’ve spiked the 88, scuttled the barge, and sent everyone else up the Big Muddy or into Shawnee territory. We’re the last ones out sir.”
“The men of the Wasp?” Oliver asked with trepidation.
“Already headed inland, Captain.”
Oliver fought a sudden wave of emotions. The relief to still be alive gave him a quick pang of guilt. Overall though, he had done his duty to the upmost, there was literally nothing left for him to do here.
“We’ll need to scuttle Firefly. I don’t think you’ll be able to tow her with your boat,” Oliver said. Saying the words out loud made his swirl of feelings turn into a tornado. He got his boat through the battle, now he had to wreck her with his own hands.