Bulletfoot One
Bulletfoot One
Bulletfoot™ Book 1
Marshall Rust
This book is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Sometimes both.
Copyright © 2020 LMBPN Publishing
Cover copyright © LMBPN Publishing
A Michael Anderle Production
LMBPN Publishing supports the right to free expression and the value of copyright. The purpose of copyright is to encourage writers and artists to produce the creative works that enrich our culture.
The distribution of this book without permission is a theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like permission to use material from the book (other than for review purposes), please contact support@lmbpn.com. Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.
LMBPN Publishing
PMB 196, 2540 South Maryland Pkwy
Las Vegas, NV 89109
First US edition, March 2020
ebook ISBN: 978-1-64202-825-6
print ISBN: 978-1-64202-826-3
Contents
The Bulletfoot One Team
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
Chapter 59
Chapter 60
Chapter 61
Chapter 62
Chapter 63
Chapter 64
Chapter 65
Chapter 66
Chapter 67
Chapter 68
Chapter 69
Chapter 70
Chapter 71
Chapter 72
Chapter 73
Chapter 74
Chapter 75
Chapter 76
Chapter 77
Chapter 78
Chapter 79
Chapter 80
Chapter 81
Chapter 82
Chapter 83
Chapter 84
Chapter 85
Chapter 86
Chapter 87
Author Note
About the Author
Other LMBPN Publishing Books
The Bulletfoot One Team
Thanks to the Beta Team:
Nicole Emens, Timothy Cox, Mary Morris, Kelly O’Donnell, Rachel Beckford, John Ashmore, Larry Omans
Thanks to our JIT Team:
Billie Leigh Kellar
Dave Hicks
Deb Mader
Debi Sateren
Diane L. Smith
Dorothy Lloyd
Jackey Hankard-Brodie
Jeff Eaton
Jeff Goode
Larry Omans
Misty Roa
Paul Westman
Peter Manis
Veronica Stephan-Miller
Editor
Skyhunter Editing Team
Chapter One
Jessica13 dreamed of adventure outside the bunker. She never knew she'd get her wish—or that it would cost her almost everything about her old life. And she never knew the danger it would bring her.
She was out in the open in the mess hall, her focus on two books she had open on the metal table in front of her. People all around her talked and made considerable noise while they ate, and the room shook every once in a while. She continued to hum, however, and tapped her finger lightly on the table to the beat of the music playing in her headset.
Not many people made music that was fun to hum to these days. Most of the music those around her listened to was the kind with heavy thrashing on improvised electronic instruments and screaming rather than singing.
But occasionally, although not that often, someone got their hands on a ukulele or a guitar or something like that and simply strummed. They didn't even have to sing for the most part. Something with a catchy tune was all she really needed to get into a rhythm and let her mind flow while she worked out the gears on the new converters they were bringing in. She didn't know where they had found them, but she really wished they would stop selecting those that were almost exclusively broken.
People didn't have fun with music anymore. In the Cities-That-Were, they said all people had done all day was listen to and make music for other people to enjoy. They got canteen credits for it and everything. What a way to make a living.
Even as an orphan with no one to speak for her, she had quickly been moved out of the lower work areas and up to the higher levels in the Sanctuary thanks to her Athena genes. She now lived and worked in the lowest of the three upper security levels of the bunker. The third and highest level formed the first line of defense and was manned constantly by Guardians.
"Hey, bulletfoot," someone said behind her.
There were many bulletfoots seated in the mess with her so she could assume they weren't talking to her since she was on her downtime.
She could have spent it in her room, which she didn't have to share with anyone and so wouldn’t be interrupted. The folks who had moved her had pulled some strings to get her a room, but it wasn't a great one. It had been a water pressure regulator closet that had been rendered redundant when they repurposed all the pipes inside.
While she'd been grateful and made it her own, it was still short on space. When she was reading, it was better to come out to the mess. It was cheaper on her canteen account to leave the lights off, for one thing, and with her headset, she didn't need to worry about the noise. Which didn’t, of course, exclude possible distractions like this one.
"Bulletfoot, I'm talking to you," said the voice again and a hand come down on her shoulder. It wasn't rough but it sure as hellfire was an indicator that she was the bulletfoot they wanted.
Jessica13 pulled the headset away from her left ear and continued to listen to the music in the right.
The man who stood behind her was tall and lean with most of his hair shaved as was the norm with the chavs who spent considerable time in their combat mechs. It meant less chance that they would have issues with hair clogging their recyclers—although, as she was well aware, it still found a way.
This one, in particular, was the section's CO, who went by the name of Armstrong7. He was the man in charge of running the ops out of their level, which was mostly only bunker defense at this point.
"Where'd you get the headgear?" Armstrong7 asked and tapped
the headset she wore.
"Oh, I was running some repairs on the Minato's gear," she explained and gave him a mostly truthful version of the events. "I’m making sure it's working before reinstalling."
"Right." The man narrowed his eyes. "Make sure you don't bust the speakers in there. You break it, it's out of your canteen. I don't expect you want the lights in your room out for a week again."
"No, sir," she said and shook her head. "That's actually why I'm working out here."
Armstrong7 still didn't look like he believed her. "Anyway, I'm sending a team Topside to investigate the seismic activity we've had a taste of. Us grunts say it's probably dog packs tripping the mines, but the smart guys say we might be looking at a little Skyfall. I need a bulletfoot to head on up. Are you in?"
The CO was a tough motherfucker, but he did have a sense of what kept morale up with his people. He knew for a fact that Jessica13 liked to catch a glimpse of the Skyfall, at least when it wasn't falling on them. And it was really beautiful to watch the streaks of light across the sky, day or night, whenever they decided to fall.
In this case, though, she couldn't help a shrug. "Sorry. Like I said, I’m working on repairs on Mini. Do you have any other bulletfoots to choose from?"
"I do but thought you'd appreciate the opportunity," he said.
"What are you doing anyway?" one of the other chavs asked and leaned in closer to try to peer at the manual she was working on.
"I’m trying to find out how to fix the AI in the Minato," Jessica13 explained and pointed out the manual section that spoke about original AI designs. "Since the Minato AI designs are older versions, I thought some of the older manuals might have a way for me to make it work."
"You really shouldn't be so attached to that mech," another chav with a mustache said, shaking his head. "They're supposed to be tools, not toys or pets or…I don't know, something else you might get attached to."
"Shut up, Jackass," Armstrong7 rumbled.
It wasn't really an insult, although it was meant to be. The chav's name was Jack5 but someone had used a piece of lead to graffiti a mission report, especially the 5 at the end of his name. It became a nickname and it had stuck.
Not all the time, of course, but when they wanted to piss him off. And given that it was his mech she ended up needing to snake because of that damn mustache of his, she liked to piss him off regularly.
"Nah, I'm being serious, here," Jack5 said and laughed. "We have a whole troop of support mechs she can use, but she always insists on that Minato piece of crap."
"You couldn't operate a Minato," she pointed out.
"Yeah, because it's a piece of crap," the man insisted. "Besides, I don't know why you need all those manuals anyway. I thought the point of having these Athena freaks around is because they are genetically designed to know how to fix and build shit."
Jessica13 bristled at being called a freak like it was somehow a bad thing that she was better at something than he was.
"Hey, Jackass, remember that time in the not too distant future when you'll need someone to fix your suit?" Armstrong7 asked and raised a shaved eyebrow. "You know how it'll probably be an ‘Athena freak’ who fixes it?"
"Yeah, boss," Jack5 said and made some attempt to look contrite.
The chances were something would burn out in that Cinder 300 of his and he would need someone to fix it. It was never a good idea to antagonize the folks who would repair his suit.
No one would outright accuse any of the bulletfoots of being so wasteful as to let a member of their bunker—which only had one thousand, five hundred and forty-eight people to begin with—die. The resources required to bring another child into the Sanctuary were daunting enough, not to mention having a suit ruined because of it.
"With that said, though," Armstrong7 continued as he leaned over the mess hall table to peer at the manual she was reading, “that bundle does look a little cobby. You sure it'll be useful?"
She nodded. "It's one of the older manuals from the Shimura-Sendai manus before they shut down production. It doesn't cover anything on the Minato itself, only the basics of their AI coding. If I can get a bead on how they code them, that should be enough for me to fix Mini."
The CO shrugged his shoulders again. "Never let it be said that A7 doesn't approve of fixing and improving the mechs in my yard. With that said, though, you're not supposed to get too attached to those mechs. It breaks, you move on and we scrap it for parts. Understood?"
"Of course," Jessica13 replied. "I’m only hoping I can make it functional, is all."
"Well, keep working on that but on your own time, ya hear me Jessie?" he said firmly.
Jessie was her nickname since the 'i' and 'e' looked like the 13 at the end of her name. She didn't particularly like it but having her name spelled out every time she was in a conversation with someone became laborious sometimes.
Armstrong7, for his part, wanted people to call him A7, but that would never catch on. No one liked to be chummy enough with the CO to give him pet names.
Not to his face, anyway.
"Okay, move out," he said and waved at another bulletfoot to head over to join the team that would go Topside. "We'll make this quick and easy. Check the mines and…"
Jessica13 pulled her headset on quickly and glanced at the food she had ignored. The aluminum platter held a chunk of a cooling protein patty and dark green stew, which was better food than what they had in the lower levels these days. When she peered at her water, she noted that gentle ripples had formed around the rim.
Seismic activity wasn't unheard of in this part of the world. There was always the worry that a real earthquake would split the Sanctuary open and expose them to the bio-weapons and radiation they had to deal with Outside.
But with all the reinforcing they were doing, she doubted that even a direct Skyfall on the mountain they were buried under would be able to crack the outer shell.
It wasn't impossible and it was a fear they had to deal with on a daily basis, but compared to the fears the people Outside had to deal with, Sanctuary was a…well, sanctuary. It was safer than almost anywhere else in the world.
Still, she couldn't help but imagine what it would be like to live Outside. There were enough people out there that they didn’t die faster than they could reproduce. Maybe with no reproduction regulations, they simply had more kids?
While she didn't know, she had always wondered. She was a curious one. Everyone said that, and they always attributed it to her Athena genes.
She would have to imagine what it was like as well until she encountered a couple of people who could tell her more about what it was like out there. The peddlers always did have the best stories—and the best music.
Maybe they made music in the Cities-That-Were. They were into some crazy shit out there if the peddlers were to be believed. That would be something to see. People singing in the cities that were likely to have some of the Skyfall on them any day didn't seem overly nuts, comparatively speaking.
Maybe they had somewhere to hide?
Jessica13 placed a piece of paper over her cup of water almost before she realized what she was doing. It was an instinctive action since you didn’t want to have to drink water with dust in it, but she hadn’t really noticed that the ground was shaking far worse now.
The ripples in her cup became more and more intense, she realized and leaned in closer to investigate.
Another shudder followed. This time, it caught the attention of everyone present.
Jessica13 had already begun to push to her feet. Seismic activity wasn’t doing this. That could only mean one thing.
She was already halfway out of her seat when the lights flickered out, immediately replaced by flashing red that brought the whole mess hall to attention.
“Shit!” Armstrong7’s voice bellowed through the speakers in the room. “Attention. The Sanctuary is under attack! Repeat, under attack!”
Well, that wasn’t something anyone ever wanted to hear. She ha
d been involved in attacks before but they had never amounted to much. Mostly, it was only scavengers and nothing the chavs who manned the mechs up top couldn’t handle.
It had been a while since she’d heard that kind of alarm in Armstrong7’s voice. In fact, she didn’t think she’d ever heard it at all. Hearing the guy who was usually calm now under a great deal of stress triggered an unsettling feeling.
It was easy to tell that the other people in the mess hall could feel it too. A stampede had begun to head toward the door but she was the first to reach it and slipped through.
There wasn’t any panic, she noted, not in anyone’s faces. Alarm, sure, but this was what they lived in the upper levels for. Protecting the rest of the bunker was their responsibility.