I’d been to the Montgomery Association Headquarters once. It was an ornate building. Gleaming Glass, steel. The avant garde arm of the government, kindly reminding you that Super Heroes were here to help. Now the gleaming letters were scattered on the ground, shattered, and the top half of the building had been blown to pieces … Read moreGale Rising (Part 63)
Another alley, another dead run down, drones whirring overhead. ETA ticking down. Inch by inch, second by second. “Target sighted.” We were too close, too far, too close, too far. The gleaming capital city of Alabama now swarmed with jets in the sky. The faint patter of anti aircraft guns still left behind changed swiftly … Read moreGale Rising (Part 62)
The airport burned like a tinderbox flying high up into the sky. It wasn’t half as tall as the tower cloud of death from the barricades, nor did it make as much noise, but the light, oh, the light gave something deep inside of me hope. This wasn’t a desperate mission in a basement. This … Read moreGale Rising (Part 61)
When Hands was six, she discovered that not everyone had a third arm. She’d long wondered how her mother, a delicate but stern woman, kept her third arm out of the way of things. Why she would let pans drop when she was nervous, or fretting, and why she couldn’t open doors when her hands … Read moreGale Rising (Hands)
The dull roar of the rotors disappeared entirely to the slowly brewing storm. Grey clouds lanced overhead, overburdened, ready to drop hell upon the earth far below. I stared outside the small window and watched the drops slowly topple down the smooth glass face. Here it was, the last and hopefully final step, and we’d … Read moreGale Rising (Part 60)
Training was a blur of pain, sweat, tears. Intermixed with ranks upon ranks of soldiers were those brave enough to volunteer. There weren’t a lot of them left. This was a different sort of task we were asking people. I recognized a few from the efforts to take down the Lost Boy, but beyond that, … Read moreGale Rising (Part 59)
Debriefing was a numb affair. Excelsior did all of the talking, and I sat in the back, staring at the rows of military personnel. Official. Everything about the Cuban Patrol seemed official. It didn’t stop the red threads and tendrils from taking up my vision, loping through my brain, slipping through skin and bone into … Read moreGale Rising (Part 58)
I stared at him blankly. Excelsior and Hands caught up after a moment. “What do you mean they’re dead?” I asked. Colton gestured, throwing up his finger again to keep us quiet, and I peered through the tiny crack we’d left behind the monitors so Colton could keep watch. A dead body greeted us, ill … Read moreGale Rising (Part 57)
At one point, there’d been a ladder bolted into the wall of the trapdoor. I caught a flash of broken holds, torn screws, and wrenched metal as I fell. The explosion pushed the trapdoor firmly back into place, knocking it over with a resounding crash. Colton gasped, but I didn’t hear any bones breaking, so … Read moreGale Rising (Part 56)
The interior looked less like anything official and more like a hunting lounge. Trinkets and niceties covered the opening, half decayed preserved hunting trophies, deer, alligator, and propaganda posters covering every available surface with all the schizophrenic intensity of someone who had been stranded there for years. Op-sec will keep you safe. Do not share … Read moreGale Rising (Part 55)