Take to the skies with Lance Star: Sky Ranger! Attacked by The Ghost Squadron, Lance takes the Skybolt II into evasive action. It's tense air combat in chapter 4 of Lance Star and the Ghost Squadron, now available in Spotlight Media GA's The Beam (available in South Georgia) and on Patreon.
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Here's chapter 1. Enjoy.
Bobby
Lance Star and the Ghost SquadronChapter 1.
Utah. October 1940.
The first attack caught everyone off guard.
One moment, all was calm and quiet, a normal evening, the next chaos reigned. Jacob Cutter stood on the deck of the log cabin he called home, sipping on a cup of hot coffee, no cream, two sugars, a nightly ritual as he watched the sun start its slow descent behind the mountain range that offered him a panoramic view each day and night. He loved it here. It was peaceful.
Most nights.
This night would be different.
The first hint of trouble came in the form of a howling wail, as if the very heavens themselves had begun to scream. Mr. Cutter had lived there all his life. He thought he had seen it all, heard it all, that he was prepared for anything.
He was wrong.
They came out of the purpling night, looking from a distance like large fireflies streaking across the darkening sky. A shimmering white glow surrounded them, adding to their unearthly appearance. Cutter had never seen anything like them, as though they were something from a dream.
When they zoomed by overhead, buzzing his cabin, he realized that this was more than just some sort of trick of the light. They were airplanes. As a pilot, and former Naval Air Corp officer, he recognized the design of the planes as they passed by overhead. They were an older model, similar in design to those he had flown while a naval aviator during the war.
He didn’t know where they were going, or why they glowed like… well, the only word that seemed to fit was ghosts, but he planned to find out.
His coffee forgotten, Jacob Cutter ran through the cabin, grabbing his keys and shotgun as he headed out to the well-traveled pick-up truck parked out back. He hopped in and followed the planes. The glow was a mystery, but it helped him keep an eye on them as he careened down the dirt road in pursuit, kicking up clouds of dust in his wake.
Who are you? he wondered. Like most pilots, he had heard stories about ghost squadrons who had been lost during combat, continuing to fly missions as specters. He didn’t believe such nonsense, but he was hard pressed to come up with a better answer.
Smiling as he gained on them, Cutter felt his adrenaline flowing. It reminded him of combat, of leaping headlong into the unknown without a parachute. He was enjoying the chase, which is probably why catching up to the planes didn’t alarm him. At least not at first.
The lead plane arced right, its wingman going left. That maneuver told him that he’d been spotted. They turned and flew toward the truck speeding down the back road.
The planes might have looked like ghosts, but their bullets were quite real. They opened fire.
To be continued…