Rallying Cry with Last Vessel of Atlantis

By Steven R. Southard and TBD

Two adventure stories packaged together! In “Rallying Cry,” an aimless youth meets two old geezers who spin bizarre war stories. They tell of a secret World War I regiment in France with ship-sized helicopters and mechanized walking tanks.  Just as an inspiring shout can move soldiers to action, perhaps all Kane really needs to

• Language: English
• Publisher: Gypsy Shadow Publishing
• Release date: Mar 12, 2020
• ISBN: 9781619504998

Steven R. Southard

Growing up in the Midwest, Steven R. Southard always found the distant oceans exotic and tantalizing. He served aboard submarines and now works as a civilian naval engineer. In his stories, he takes readers on journeys of discovery in many seas and various vessels. Steve has written in the historical, science fiction, fantasy, horror, and steampunk genres. Come aboard at http://sites.google.com/site/stevenrsouthard/ and voyage with his intriguing characters in tales of aquatic adventure.

Book preview

Contents

Copyright Page

Dedication

Acknowledgement

Rallying Cry Story

Chapter 1A

Chapter 2A

Chapter 3A

Chapter 4A

Last Vessel of Atlantis

Chapter 1B

Chapter 2B

About the Author

Rallying Cry

with

Last Vessel of Atlantis

Book Nine of What Man Hath Wrought Series

by

Steven R. Southard

All rights reserved

Copyright © February 4, 2014, Steven R. Southard

Cover Art Copyright © 2014, Charlotte Holley

Gypsy Shadow Publishing, LLC.

Lockhart, TX

www.gypsyshadow.com

Names, characters and incidents depicted in this book are products of the author’s imagination, or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of the author or the publisher.

No part of this book may be reproduced or shared by any electronic or mechanical means, including but not limited to printing, file sharing, and email, without prior written permission from Gypsy Shadow Publishing, LLC.

ISBN: 978-1-61950-499-8

Published in the United States of America

First eBook Edition: March 7, 2014

Dedication

To Charlotte Holley and Denise Bartlett, who believed in me and published my work. Like the characters in these two stories, they’ve embarked on an adventure. Along with the other writers in the Gypsy Shadow Publishing family, I’m pleased to be along for the ride.

Acknowledgment

The story Last Vessel of Atlantis first appeared in slightly altered form as The Vessel in the anthology Quest for Atlantis: Legends of a Lost Continent by Pill Hill Press in 2010.

Rallying Cry (Story)

Chapter 1

Kane Jones felt like he’d entered a video game set in some bygone era. Two geezers looked up at him from where they sat, each in a wheelchair, playing cards at an old oak table. Each face bore more wrinkles than Kane had ever seen on just two people. He wondered whether dinosaurs had manufactured their radio: a wooden box with large knobs and a bent coat hanger sticking out. A news program blared from its speakers. A film of dust covered the TV on its credenza as well as its remote. Few decorations adorned the room, except a number of framed family photographs.

Maintenance, Kane repeated loudly. He’d used his key to enter the room only after knocking and shouting for several minutes from outside the door. Someone called about a leaking sink faucet.

Eh? the old fossil on the right asked. He looked like he might once have been stocky, but that was before time had collapsed his body.

He’s here to fix my sink! the one on the left shouted at him. That man’s face and body looked too thin and cadaverous to be alive, but Kane decided to give him the benefit of the doubt.

Less than a month into his term, the voice on the radio said, President George W. Bush spoke today to troops in Fort Stewart, in Georgia . . . The man on the left switched off the radio.

Are you Mr.— Kane checked his clipboard and frowned. Loiseau? He pronounced it Louie-seeow.

The man on the left nodded. I’m Loiseau. He spoke the name as Loo-zoh with a fluid French smoothness Kane knew he’d never master.

The room had a dry staleness to it, as if the air was seldom used for respiration. Kane felt he was aging by the second, as if he would walk out ten years older after a half hour in the room.

I’ll be as quick as I can, sir, Kane said,