CHALLENGER STORM: THE VALLEY OF FEAR - Episode 3

(NOTE: This serial takes place out of order chronologically with the Challenger Storm novels, which are being written with a definite timeline in mind.  "The Valley of Fear" happens after at least book 5 or 6, but this shouldn't hinder the reading experience.  I'm flying by the seat of my pants here, so I make no guarantees in regards to quality or coherence.)

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Episode 3: "Out of the Frying Pan..."

Tumbling through the air, Clifton Storm, Willy Avis, and Brock Thurman found themselves surrounded by shrieking winds and the swooping robotic flying machines.  The survival bundles the men had grabbed on their way out of the Dolphin held weapons, but they were sealed tightly within their waterproof outer coverings and would be difficult- if not impossible- to get into as they fell.  They were, for the time being, unarmed among their attackers.

The adventurers had bailed out low over the water, and they had to open their parachutes immediately.  One by one the white silk canopies blossomed above them, yanking them upwards by their harnesses with the suddenness of their slowed fall.  Several of the ornithopters that had surrounded the seaplane had followed it as its flight continued; above the troubleshooters the main swarm of ornithopters was still diving, following the course of the now doomed Island Girl.  The flock of robots swooped down towards the three men as they dangled helplessly from their 'chutes.  They braced for impact as the metal monsters streaked toward them.

The swarm reached the men, and for a moment there was chaos as the things flew around and among them and then there was silence.  The ornithopters had flown among the three parachutists without damaging them, then had flown on and continued on their course toward the Island Girl's flight.  As each one reached the Dolphin they landed on the plane and split apart into their dual-forms.  As the doomed seaplane receded in the distance over the island, Storm could see the outer hull of the plane as the robots swarmed over it like insects, tearing the craft apart.  Eventually, the wings became sheared off along with parts of the tail.

As Storm, Willy, and Brock watched, the MARDL plane dropped like a stone, somewhere over the jungle of the mysterious island.  As smoke rose up from the crash, so did the swarm of the ornithopters.  They wheeled up in the sky like a steel tornado, then headed off toward the other end of the long, spindle-shaped island.

After steering their 'chutes to bring them as close to the island as possible, the trio touched down in the warm, deep blue saltwater.  A water landing can be life-threatening for a jumper, and the men had to immediately get clear of the dangerous lines and shroud of their 'chutes.  Once free from the encumbrances of their parachutes, they swam with their survival packs to the shore and regrouped on the beach, waterlogged but alive and grateful.

There was a few moments of silence, which Brock finally broke.  "What the hell," he panted, "was that?"

Storm shielded his eyes from the early morning sun and gazed into the distance toward the other end of the island.  "Your guess is as good as mine," he said evenly.  "Whatever they were, they ignored us... they wanted the plane."

"Well, they got it," Willy grumbled as he rose from where he sat on the beach, wiping the wet sand from the seat of his denim pants.  As the chief mechanic at the Miami Aerodrome Research & Development Labs, Willy had a very proprietary view of the aircraft under his care.  "I just fixed up her ailerons, too."

Storm smiled.  "Don't worry, Willy, I'll get you a new one when we get back home."

"If we get back home, you mean," Brock said as he turned from the ocean and looked into the jungle.  "Does anybody know we're here?  Do we even know where 'here' is?"

"I launched a radio-flare before we jumped," Storm told him.  The flare was one of Storm's aeronautical inventions for flight-safety.  It contained a transmitter and a small buoy, and it broadcast a strong radio signal with a distress-call along with the last coordinates that had been recorded by the plane's transmission logger, another of the adventurer's creations.  "We should be okay."

"Maybe, if the radio signals aren't still being jammed" Willy reminded him.

Storm turned to the mechanic.  "You're right.  This does all seem a bit deliberate, doesn't it?"  Willy nodded.

Suddenly a woman's scream rang out, sharp and piercing and frantic.  It shattered the idyllic feeling of the tropical beach.  The sound came from the jungle, and it cried out again, more panicked now.

Without another word, Storm raced into the trees and toward the sound, followed closely by Willy Avis and Brock Thurman.  They had already gotten into their survival packs and had brought their weapons out: each man had a Tommy gun and 2 drums of ammunition, plus their own sidearms- .45 caliber Colt 1911's for Willy and Brock, the Mauser C96 for Storm, plus spare ammo for these.  Storm was outfitted as well with his multi-pouched utility harness, which held many of the tools and gadgets he had created to aid in his war.  The group was armed and ready for action as they sprinted toward the sound of the screaming, which was coming from deeper in the jungle now.

The canopy of vegetation rapidly closed in over them as they raced toward the sound.  Trees and vegetation whipped by them as they followed the screaming.  It was impossible to be silent in their pursuit, but they were fast and seemed to be closing in on the sound.

Something strong and fast closed around Brock's right ankle, and he was yanked into the air by his leg.  He yelped in surprise.

"Brock!" Willy yelled as he and Storm turned to him.

"Go on, I'll be ok," the dangling strongman told them as he flailed, trying to reach the vine rope that had ensnared him.

Storm and Willy again took up their chase again as they headed further into the deep jungle.  The screaming started again, still further away but still in the direction they were headed.  Someone was taking the woman- whoever she was- deeper into the jungle.  Something bothered Storm: there was something familiar about the screaming, but he wasn't sure what it was.  And the trap that had ensnared Brock... there was danger here, and something wasn't right.  The task at hand was to save that woman, though, and they kept crashing through the curtains of deep green leaves and vines.

Suddenly Storm stopped short.  Willy collided with his Storm's back before falling back onto his backside.  "What the...?" the aging mechanic began in protest, but Storm raised his hand and cut him off.  Blinking, Willy looked around them and realized the gravity of their new situation.

Storm and Willy were surrounded by a ring of fierce-looking Polynesian warriors.  Their spears were held steadily toward them, the points hovering just an inch away from their flesh.  They had been ambushed.

TO BE CONTINUED...

CHALLENGER STORM: THE VALLEY OF FEAR - Episode 2

(NOTE: This serial takes place out of order chronologically with the Challenger Storm novels, which are being written with a definite timeline in mind.  "The Valley of Fear" happens after at least book 5 or 6, but this shouldn't hinder the reading experience.  I'm flying by the seat of my pants here, so I make no guarantees in regards to quality or coherence.)

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Episode 2: "The Steel Wind"

Storm, Willy, and Brock watched the rising cloud of airborne visitors as it thickened before them.  The objects looked like the dark silhouettes of bats or birds with wings flapping on either side of central bodies, but something about the shapes themselves indicated to the MARDL flyers that they were neither as they headed toward the Island Girl.  The Douglas Dolphin seaplane was a utility ship and not a combat aircraft, but she wasn't without fangs of her own.

“Brock, get the starboard machine gun ready,” Storm ordered.  “Willy, take the port side.  Something tells me these things aren’t going to be too friendly.”

As Storm gave his orders, each of the flying objects suddenly started trailing a thick, white smoke.  As the mechanic and the strongman scrambled for their posts Storm began to bank the Dolphin away from the advancing cloud, attempting to evade the unidentified flyers.  The group followed them; their speed was far greater than that of the Island Girl.  The troubleshooters had no sooner taken their positions at their guns than the flyers reached the seaplane.  The swarm broke their formation and veered off from each other; they swooped around the aircraft and soon the visibility dropped amid the thickening smokescreens.  Storm and his men were flying blind.

Above them, one of the flyers swooped down out of the haze and toward the Dolphin.  Willy tracked it as far as he could from his position on the left-hand side of the seaplane.  He fired a burst at the thing from the Browning machine gun, the bullets making a throaty roar and the empty shell-casings tinkling on the floor around him.  The swooping object disappeared from his view.  Almost immediately afterward, there was a thump and a rending screech: the object had sliced gouges from the Dolphin's roof and swooped off to come in again.  At the right side of the plane, there was another scream of tearing metal as another slash appeared in the Island Girl's starboard side.

"They're cutting us to ribbons!" Willy shouted over the roaring of the engines and the machine guns; he and Brock were doing their best to try and shoot the shapes from the sky but as soon as one would dive out of the mist it seemed to disappear again.

Realizing the danger of the situation, Storm barked to his men: "Hang on, I'm gonna try to get us down out of this pea-soup!"  Sensing a lull and an open spot below, he shoved the control yoke forward, sending the Dolphin into a sudden dive.  Willy and Brock hung on to their safety harnesses in the back of the plane as the Island Girl burst from the artificial cloud.

Leveling out the seaplane over the waves below, the three adventurers were able to collect themselves for a moment before the things dove out of the smokescreen to renew their attack on the Island Girl.  As the flying things headed toward them in the full daylight, the morning sun reflected off of metallic skin: they were mechanical constructs that flew with flapping wings.  Ornithopters.  Storm had heard of similar flying machines that had attacked New York once not too long ago and had been defeated by the members of a mercenary air force, but the machines in the photos of that attack had been larger than these ornithopters, which were more man-sized and had a wingspan of only about 15 feet or so.  The machines' bodies were different, too: not as pod-shaped as the ones that attacked New York, these had the suggestion of smaller appendages.  

The attackers were too swift to get a clear view of at the moment and they were now diving down toward the  Island Girl.  There was no time to examine them.

Storm jinked the Dolphin hard to the right and climbed as the ornithopters drew nearer.  Willy and Brock hammered at the flying machines with their guns when they were in range but they realized now their efforts were pointless: the ornithopters were armored, and the heavy slugs bounced off of their metallic hides.

There was a sudden thump and a tremor that shuddered through the Island Girl.  From his starboard-side gun placement, Brock could see a dark shape as it hung onto the underside of the seaplane's wing.  The shape suddenly folded its wings and split apart as it seemed to sprout two separate sets of mechanical limbs.  The twin shapes scurried over the wing like a pair of massive cockroaches.  With razor-sharp bladed limbs, the robots crawled toward the seaplane's fuselage, shredding the wing as they advanced.

Brock opened fire again with his gun.  The bullets bounced off of the metal adversaries with no effect.  The Island Girl began to shake violently.  "They got the wing!" Brock cried.

In the cockpit, Storm fought the controls of the plane.  He knew there was no point in trying to stay aloft now: the Island Girl was going down hard and they were going to have to bail out.  He managed to point the craft toward the small island the ornithopters had originated from and locked the controls in place.  There was a shrill scream of metal and something exploded on the Dolphin's roof.  One of the crawling robots had reached the starboard engine and had destroyed it.

"Bail out, guys!" Storm called back to his men, "We're going into the drink!"  He yanked a lever, launching a flare from the roof of the Dolphin, and began to strap into his parachute.

In the rear of the seaplane, Brock and Willy hurriedly struggled into their own 'chutes.  The Island Girl was nearing the beach but two more of the strange robots were crawling around the plane and tearing it apart.  The Dolphin would fall apart around them before they reached the beach, and the men knew they would have to jump now over the Pacific and swim to shore.

After they strapped small survival bundles to themselves, Storm threw open the plane's door and the wind rushed in around them.  Looking out through the open doorway, they could see the air was full of the swooping and diving ornithopters as they circled ever closer to the crashing seaplane.

Another scream of metal rang out.  A huge section of the plane's port-side fuselage tore open like paper under the claws of another ornithopter-machine.  A metallic head looked in on them, a single green sensor glowed where a face should be.  The thing began to advance through the hole it had made.

Storm, Willy, and Brock leaped from the Island Girl's open doorway and out into the open air, surrounded by the swooping deadly machines.

TO BE CONTINUED...

CHALLENGER STORM: THE VALLEY OF FEAR - Episode 1

(NOTE: This serial takes place out of order chronologically with the Challenger Storm novels, which are being written with a definite timeline in mind.  "The Valley of Fear" happens after at least book 5 or 6, but this shouldn't hinder the reading experience.  I'm flying by the seat of my pants here, so I make no guarantees in regards to quality or coherence.)

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Episode 1: "Hollywood SOS"

The sun was just coming up over the Pacific Ocean as the Douglas Dolphin began its descent.  On the nose of the plane the painting of a dark-haired beauty in a grass skirt lounged beneath the plane's name: "Island Girl".  The sky around the seaplane was clearing and there were now only a few patches and shreds of clouds between the aircraft and the barren stretch of blank water below.  The trio of men inside the Dolphin examined their map yet again and checked the ocean for any signs of what they had been searching for.  So far, their search had turned up nothing.  The mission had been a bust.

At the controls of the plane sat an athletically-trim man with blue-gray eyes and dark hair.  He was handsome despite the three long vertical scars that marred the left side of his face, and he seemed to radiate a quiet yet intense energy as he scanned the waves below.

His name was Clifton Storm... the world called him "Challenger".

Storm had grown up wealthy, his father the owner of an industrial empire.  He had been a cruel youth, however, selfish and self-absorbed and reveling in the superiority and elitism that his family's wealth bought him.  Despite the urging and guidance of his philanthropic parents he had been living his life as though it had been one big party until fate intervened: Storm's mother and father had been killed in an automobile accident.  While flying home to attend to their funeral, the passenger plane Storm was travelling in had been caught in a freak blizzard and crashed into the mountains.  Everyone aboard was killed except for Clifton Storm, and though he was scarred from the experience he managed to emerge from the mountains alive and whole... but changed.

No longer was Storm living his life only for himself: between the pair of tragedies and his own near-death experience, he had found himself turned inside-out and now burned with the urge to help others.  Throwing himself into his education, Storm soaked up knowledge like a man possessed.  After graduating from a prestigious college at the top of his class, he disappeared from society and embarked on a globe-spanning journey of discovery as he honed the skills that would make him a force to be reckoned with.  He became a dynamo of action, defending the weak and punishing those who would prey upon them.  After establishing an enclave of like-minded scientists and engineers known as MARDL (the Miami Aerodrome Research and Development Laboratories), Storm gathered together a group of adventurers who shared the same goals and dreams that he did and this became the troubleshooting arm of his organization.  Together they would aim to make the world a better place, fighting tyranny & injustice and helping those in need in corners of the globe both near and far-flung.

It was such a mission that brought Storm- who had been given the nickname of "Challenger" Storm by the overeager media- and a pair of his aides to the Pacific ocean, in search of an island that simply wasn't there.

The trio had been returning to the United States after an adventure involving a wayward scheming debutante, her gangster cronies, and a lost diamond mine in Australia when they had received word that an American movie production crew that had been filming in Hawaii had been hijacked as they had been flying back to California.  The details of the kidnapping were sketchy, but the mid-air hijacking made Storm question whether his sometime ally/enemy, the air-pirate Simon Crowe, was involved.  The M. O. was all wrong for Crowe and his band, though... money was his big motivator, but kidnapping seemed a little out of character for him.

After the film crew's disappearance, there was a silence and mystery surrounding the event until a final panicked radio transmission was sent out giving approximate map coordinates, and then all was silent again.  It seemed as though the Hollywood movie-makers had simply ceased to exist.  The crew consisted of largely B-movie personnel, including leading man and frequent gangster on film Billy Hartsell, wide-eyed blonde actress Fay Durning, and the director and producer, Jimmy Keane.  Keane was especially noted offscreen due to tabloid rumors of his involvement with the mob, and the hyperbolic movie-maker had raised a few eyebrows by packing up a crew to film on location in Hawaii instead of spending within his budget and making his latest "epic" on a soundstage in Burbank.

Whatever the reason for the kidnapping, the crew was missing and in danger.  While Storm and his team were flying over the empty Ocean, search parties were coordinating their plans.  Time was of the essence, however: the missing people had to be found, and soon, or risk perishing at sea.  The MARDL seaplane was the only plane or boat in the vicinity, and it all rested on their shoulders for now.

"There, over there!"  Willy Avis shouted over the Dolphin's engines.  The graying black mechanic was at the upper end of middle-age, but was a combat veteran and still sharp as a knife.  Clifton Storm and the third man in the cockpit, the bald and heavily muscled & tattooed Brock Thurman, turned and followed Willy's pointing arm.  Down below, through the patchy clouds, they saw a small green jewel of foliage amidst the endless Pacific.  An island.

"Thank God," Storm sighed.  "We'd be flying on fumes soon.  If we didn't find them we'd have to go back for fuel."

As Storm banked the Dolphin to get a better look at the island, Brock checked the map.  "The island's close enough to the where the SOS said they went down," he rumbled.  "I only hope they made it there."

"Yeah," Willy agreed as he clamped the radio headphones to his head, "and I hope they're all still alive.  I'll call it in."  As he tuned the radio dial, a frown appeared on his face, followed by a scowl.  "Cliff," he said finally, "... something's wrong."

Storm turned.  "What is it?"

Willy held the headphones out for Storm to hear.  A screaming peal of white noise was tearing from them.  "The radio- I can't get any channels at all.  Something's blocking it."

Storm started to say something, but was interrupted.

"Look!"  Brock shouted and pointed, startled.  "What the hell are they?"

Looking through the windscreen, the trio beheld a chilling sight.  Large winged shapes, batlike and menacing, were rising from the island and heading straight for the "Island Girl" on a collision course.

TO BE CONTINUED...

RIP, CoH

Earlier today, Paragon Studios announced they were shutting down, and taking their massively-multiplayer online role-playing game (MMORPG) "City of Heroes" with them.  This will be done before the end of the year.

This announcement has had a big effect on me.

In a previous interview, I stated that I counted video games among my influences on writing.  The main video game that has helped my creative process since I began writing my own adventures was "City of Heroes".  The game allowed players to create their own characters, design their costumes, designate their powers, etc., then turns them loose in a shared "world" with other players with its own enemies, ongoing storylines, etc.

The game was a lot of fun, but more than that it helped me to create.  I began playing the game shortly after I began writing "The Isle of Blood", way back in 2008 (maybe even 2007?), and it helped me to crystalize the look of my characters, as well as design quite a few that haven't turned up yet but will hopefully do so in the future.  Beyond that, it helped me brainstorm on other projects.  Finally, it let me "step into the shoes" of my heroes and play as them, which was a very cool feeling.

Beyond these reasons, there were others that made my time playing "City of Heroes" important to me: I frequently played the game alongside my friends Manny and Gabriel, and it's a neat feeling leading your hero into combat next to your friends.  My wife started playing the game for a while too, and that was a terrific experience as the two of us had a good time creating characters and beating down the bad guys together.  We were playing CoH the night my father passed away from cancer, and after the initial crying had died down, we played for a while longer.  It was a great comfort that night, especially knowing the true shock would lay into me when I woke up the next day.

I know it's just a game, but nonetheless it's a game that was a big part of my life, and Challenger Storm wouldn't be what it is without the influence of "City of Heroes".  I will miss it and all the fun and enjoyment that came from it.

Blowing the Dust Off...

Things have been rather quiet for me here lately since the announcement regarding "The Curse of Poseidon".  I'm currently making preparations to work on a short story for a forthcoming anthology, but I don't think I can discuss it too much right now.  It's going to be interesting to write about characters that aren't my own, though.  I'll keep you posted about that.


Meanwhile, I've also begun work on the third Challenger Storm novel.  As I've mentioned before, the title is "White Hell".  Basically, this story could also be called "Storm at the Mountains of Madness", so that should clue you in on what's going down in that tale.  The details are being ironed out, but I have a feeling once it starts, this thing is gonna snowball (pardon the pun).  It should be epic, and a blast to write.  After that, I have some ideas where Storm will be headed in the future: Egypt, some adventuring at home in Miami, off to the mysterious (and fictional) country of Altaveria... I have a list of story ideas that just keeps growing.  And then of course there's a few other projects that I want to get off the ground too...

In the meantime, I've been considering what I could do to keep this blog active as I continue to plod along at my snails-pace while writing.  I mentioned this on Facebook and got some suggestions back from a few friends:

-Behind-the-scenes details on Challenger Storm's gear, gadgets, tools, etc.

-A look at the MARDL compound: one friend even suggested a cut-away illustration of the compound's buildings, etc.  This would be great, but I don't think I could drum up the art for this.

-A file-type post dedicated to each member of the MARDL troubleshooters.

-I considered doing a few short-story type of entries showing how Storm met each member of his adventuring crew.

Finding the time to do stuff like this can be tricky, but dangit: I need something to give this place life.  I'd post every day if I could, but unfortunately I don't think I've got it in me.  And so, fans, friends, and casual readers: what do you think I could do to liven this place up a little bit?  I'm open to suggestions, and actually encourage them... this place gets a little dusty sometimes and it's nice to blow the dust off and do something with the ol' blog, y'know?

Lightning Strikes Twice!

The wheels are turning again, folks.  Enjoy this announcement from Airship 27's Facebook page:


"Don Gates' original pulp hero, Challenger Storm returns early next year in a brand new adventure, "The Curse of Poseidon," and along with this action ride once again is artist Michael Kaluta. Earlier this year, Kaluta become the first artist to win both the Pulp Factory Awards for Best Pulp Cover and Best Interior Illustrations for his work on the first Storm adventure, "Isle of Blood." Airship 27 is thrilled to bringing pulp this exciting new chapter in Gates' series."


So yes, it is official: lightning can strike twice.  The next Challenger Storm novel, "The Curse of Poseidon", will have art once again by legendary illustrator Michael Wm. Kaluta.  This is another dream come true... pinch me, I'm dreamin'!

On My Challenger Storm Wishlist...

If you've never read Derrick Ferguson's character Dillon, you are missing out on some of the best action-adventure and New Pulp tales today. In the latest post on the Dillon blog, Derrick talks about team-ups, and among the possibilities a certain scarred adventurer is mentioned, or at least his offspring. Can't say whether it would ever happen or not, but it certainly would be fun to see Dillon & Ulysses and/or Destiny Storm crossing over...