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“A rousing SF tale that stars a warrior hero with a strong moral center.” —KIRKUS REVIEWS
CALVIN B. FISHER
As a native of Minnesota, CALVIN B. FISHER learned to spend long winters tearing through pages and pages of novels. Storm Break is fourth in his award-winning Northfield Saga series. The first three national award-winning novels in the Northfield Saga, Apocalypse Bounty, Stormrise, and Storm Warning, are riveting reads that continue to captivate his fans with each new book. His desire to write for an audience bloomed early; as a child, he sold stacks of homemade comic books to family and neighbors. In the years since, his passion has refined and matured, but ultimately remains the same. His desire to bring characters to life is the engine that powers each work. He currently resides in Aurora, Colorado.
STORM BREAK
The Network’s war is ruthless—every life Stormrise saves is met with twice the loss. Mark Northfield struggles to protect his friends in a bleak, post-apocalyptic world, fighting a losing battle against relentless despair. His enemy, General Arkland, thrives on this hopelessness and will stop at nothing to destroy Stormrise. With superior manpower, advanced technology, and a new weapon codenamed V2, Arkland is poised to crush all resistance forever. But even with the odds stacked against him, Mark refuses to give up—not when his friends and the future of New Medea are on the line.
The Northfield Saga:
Storm Break
Calvin B. Fisher
Publisher Page
an imprint of Headline Books
Terra Alta, WV
The Northfield Saga: Storm Break by Calvin B. Fisher copyright ©2025 Calvin B. Fisher All rights reserved. This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents, except where noted otherwise, are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any other resemblance to actual people, places or events is entirely coincidental. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any other form or for any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording or any information storage system, without written permission from Publisher Page. To order additional copies of this book or for book publishing information, or to contact the author: Headline Books, Inc. P.O. Box 52 Terra Alta, WV 26764 www.HeadlineBooks.com mybook@headlinebooks.com Publisher Page is an imprint of Headline Books ISBN 13: 9781958914618 Library of Congress Control Number: 2024949247
P R I N T E D I N T H E U N I T E D S TAT E S O F A M E R I C A
To Bailey, mom, and dad, for your endless support.
1 Mark Northfield wandered through the food processing plant. While passing body after body, he ran his fingers across the machinery to make sure everything was solid. This wasn’t a nightmare he could wake up from. They hadn’t been fast enough. Stormrise scoured the plant. At first, the rebel group’s goal had been to find survivors, but that hope had been dashed. Now, the fighters hunted for information. They searched for anything that might give them a lead on their next target. Maybe, just maybe, they could save the next group of slaves. Rayne Simpson approached and said, “Viking. Skullbeard. Saturn. Search the retainant lodgings.” Viking was Northfield’s codename. The men next to him, Andy and Leo, had the codenames Skullbeard and Saturn. “The retainant lodgings?” Leo asked. “Retainant” was the Network’s euphemism for a slave. “I doubt we’ll find anything useful there, boss.” “You’re right, but we need to cover our bases,” Simpson said. He looked around and sighed. “We’ve come this far.” A violent wind battered them. It kicked up dirt and dust. The sky was dying, casting red over everything. The bright autumn leaves seemed to burn. The toxic gas that characterized the wasteland glowed soft yellows and oranges. As always, when stepping outside, Northfield 5
The Northfield Saga: Storm Break
was hyperaware of his gas mask. If something compromised the mask, a bad death awaited him. It was a death these poor people had endured. Northfield closed his eyes. The slaves had been provided gas masks so they could move between the facility’s buildings. The gas masks had a failsafe mechanism, though. In case of an escape attempt or an attack on the facility, the gas masks could be shattered from an overseeing tower. The slaves would be left exposed to the toxic gas. Stormrise’s attack on the facility had been planned. Northfield and Leo were responsible for neutralizing the tower. They needed to hit hard enough, hit fast enough, so the guards didn’t have time to shatter the masks. That hadn’t happened. While Stormrise was fighting to free the slaves, their masks had been shattered. The facility’s windows and doors had swung wide open, beckoning the gas. If we were faster, he thought. He clutched his gun tightly. If we were just a little faster… Leo read his mind. “We did the best we could,” he said. “Freeing these camps is an odds game. It has to go perfectly, or everyone dies.” “I don’t know,” Northfield said. “To the people, dead in there… I don’t know.” “We’ve saved a lot of people this summer,” Andy said. “I’m with Leo on this one. We do what we can, but past that…” Leo said to Northfield, “You’re the guy that pushed us to rescue the first facility, remember? I was with you on that decision then. I’m with you even more now.” “Yeah,” Northfield replied, “I know. But when I see the bodies, I keep coming back to the fact that these people would be alive if we hadn’t come today…” “And what life was that?” Leo asked. “Slaving away at gunpoint for the Network? Every grueling moment of their lives spent in this wretched place?” 6
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“I know, I know. But maybe they still would’ve preferred that to dying.” “Well, I’m not gonna let people live like this.” Leo reiterated, “We fight. We do what we can. That’s it. End of story.” They entered the retainant lodgings. “Lodgings” was an awfully generous term for the conditions they saw. Stacks and stacks of bunks were crammed next to each other. “Damned rat cages,” Leo muttered in anger. “I’m gonna get ahold of Arkland’s neck and throttle him…” “No Interior at this facility,” Andy said. “Thank God these people didn’t have to endure that, at least.” Leo stared at the dirt and squalor. “They had to endure more than enough already.” Northfield shivered at the mention of the Interior. Within the Interior, the Network performed research on people. The research was mostly psychological. It was never good. The three men sifted through the dead’s belongings, what little they possessed. The luxuries afforded to the slaves varied by facility. Some permitted scant luxuries; others allowed none. It generally depended on the whims of the facility’s overseer. Or, more darkly, if the Interior’s psychological research had an interest in how deprived the slaves were kept. This facility seemed to allow books and other small conveniences. That made the facility among the more merciful, the only semblance of praise this place could receive. Northfield sifted through the books. Mainly, he searched for notebooks or some other form of writing. He didn’t find any, however. It didn’t seem that the overseer had allotted the slaves writing materials, probably to prevent this sort of scenario. He had to take a break. I’m sorry, he thought, closing his eyes. He considered what he would’ve done differently. What alternative steps he would’ve taken, what shots he would’ve taken. He couldn’t think of anything, not right now. But still, his heart told him 7
The Northfield Saga: Storm Break
something was out there. There was something—there had to be something—he could’ve done differently. “Hey,” Leo exclaimed. “Look what I found.” He held up a book; it was a Princess’s Sword novel. Leo added, “This is the one Becca’s been looking for, right?” Andy studied it, and he nodded. “Yeah, I think so.” Leo pushed it into Andy’s chest and said, “Look at that. You’re gonna win Uncle of the Year now.” Andy stared at the book. Leo asked, “What?” “I don’t know… Whoever this belonged to just died, man. Doesn’t it feel wrong taking their stuff?” “They’re not using it anymore. Should we just let it rot?” Leo added, “I’m not going back empty-handed. Take the damned book.” Reluctantly, Andy accepted it, and they continued searching. They didn’t find anything of note. Rayne alerted them that it was time to go. Enemy reinforcements would arrive soon. Stormrise needed to bug out before that happened. Widow Team, along with Stormrise’s Bravo and Charlie Teams, boarded their vehicles and sped away from the scene. Northfield watched the facility fade from view, darkening to a silhouette behind the ruby sun before finally melting into the fiery gas. Today was a failure. They had failed with other facilities, too. However, they had also liberated facilities. They had brought slaves into their fold and given them new lives, ones where they at least had a choice. Still, the successes seemed to pale in comparison to the failures. Why was that? How come the warm glow of victory never felt as potent as the burn of loss? 8
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It was the way of the world, Northfield supposed. It was the way of this cursed world. They had lost this camp. The only way was forward, though. To save more lives. To rescue more people. At least, that was what he kept telling himself. *** Clang. Clang. Clang. With a rhythmic pace, Mark Northfield hammered the filtration pipe into place. The sweltering heat wave would be one of the year’s last before the temperature started to drop. The beating sun felt good except for on his face, which cooked behind his gas mask. He ignored the discomfort, though. Today was a good day. One of the better ones. He was going to enjoy it as best he could. So he savored the heat, along with the soft, whistling wind and the lumbering clouds above. He ran his hand through his hair, wiping out as much sweat as he could. He continued to hammer. Clang. Clang. Clang. This, Jess… This is it. Building something new. Building something good. Just a day’s worth of hard work, with something to show for it. Not having to think about what choices to make. Not having to worry about choosing wrong. If only this could be every day. He picked up another nail, centered it, and hammered again. If only this could be every day. He sighed, picking up another nail. Maybe the nightmares would stop. “Ow!” he shouted, recoiling. He’d missed the nail and whacked his poor thumb. He held his thumb tightly as it throbbed. Maybe I should pay a bit more attention to what I’m doing, huh?
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The Northfield Saga: Storm Break
If you were here, Jess, you’d be teasing me while grabbing a Band-Aid to patch me up. That little sentiment says all about who you were in a handful of words. I miss you. Thought I’d let you know again, just in case you forgot. He stepped away from the filtration pipe, admiring his work so far. Stormrise had been searching for a place to plant their second base of operations. The task had been easier said than done. Stormrise’s primary headquarters had been retrofitted from an old school, and it had served them well. The classrooms, cafeteria, and gym had been easily repurposed to suit their needs. However, Stormrise leadership wanted to avoid using another school. They didn’t want to establish a pattern the Network could follow. If the Network ever discovered their first base’s location, it would be easy enough to do a region-wide search of former schools. In the rural expanse, safe from the Network’s influence, there weren’t many other types of buildings big enough to serve as a headquarters. After months of searching, they had come across the main street of a small town, Amber. The town wasn’t marked on most maps. Despite Amber’s remoteness, the main hotel was surprisingly large. Prior to the apocalypse, Amber had likely been a pitstop for interstate travelers since the town had a gas station as well. In this dark, apocalyptic world, the town had been sundered from memory. The location was less concealed than their main base in the forest, but the remoteness made up for it. The town entirely avoided all known Network flight paths. Stormrise leadership decided that it was the right fit. Even better, Stormrise could grow into the neighboring buildings.
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There was a restaurant connected to the hotel, which they would convert into a cafeteria. A warehouse at the end of the street would suit their garage and storage needs. For now, they worked on retrofitting the hotel and former restaurant for post-apocalyptic life. First, they piped the filtration system through the buildings, which would defend against the toxic gas outside. Then, they would seal all entries and exits to the buildings. Once they mounted solar panels on the rooftops to power the whole thing, the base would finally be livable. The work was slow. That was primarily because Chief Kaminski had only assigned a handful of people to the base’s construction. Chief Kaminski wanted compartmentalization between the bases. If one base was discovered by the Network and its members ended up captured, they wouldn’t be able to compromise the other base. Half of the filtration pipe had been secured to the hotel’s roof. So they were halfway done with one rooftop. That didn’t include piping through the hotel’s interior or getting the warehouse ready for storage. Not to mention the cafeteria. Northfield exhaled. The simple, hard work did lose some of its luster when he considered just how much simple, hard work they had left. Leo and Andy hammered away on other corners of the rooftop. “I’m gonna take a break,” Northfield declared. His bruised thumb agreed. “A break?” Leo exclaimed. “You’re soft. Like the old geezer.” “You took a break, like, thirty minutes ago,” Andy said to Leo. “That’s because I had to piss,” Leo said. “It’s different.” Northfield left them to their bickering and climbed down from the roof. Odell Barnes sat on a wooden park bench, and Northfield joined him. 11
The Northfield Saga: Storm Break
“Working hard or hardly working?” Northfield joked. Odell held his hand up. “I banged up my thumb.” “Really?” Northfield said. “I just did the same thing.” “We’re going to kill ourselves if we keep this up,” Odell said, chuckling. “No chance,” Northfield replied. “I’m not gonna do the Network’s job for them.” “I don’t know why I signed up for this,” Odell said. “Give me cleaning duties, and I’m as chipper as a bird. But this grueling work…” “I’m enjoying it more than I thought I would,” Northfield replied. “It’s therapeutic.” “You’re young. Your bones haven’t degraded yet. Mine have been reduced to brittle sticks, just waiting to break.” “That’s a vivid image.” “Well, my bones are feeling quite vivid right now.” They sat quietly for a moment, listening to the dry, cracked leaves as they skittered across the pavement. “How are things going out there?” Odell asked. When Northfield didn’t answer, he said, “I’ve heard from others. But I want to hear from you.” Northfield sighed. “I don’t know. We’ve failed to save the last two camps. We’re getting worse, not better. The Network is getting quicker on the draw. When we walk through those camps and see the people we failed to save…” He paused before adding, “We’ve helped a lot of people so far. We have. But it’s hard to see.” He could feel Odell’s stare, even through his gas mask. “You haven’t been sleeping well,” Odell said. “I don’t think I ever sleep well.” “Even worse, then. I see the bags under your eyes.” Northfield stared at the trees in the distance. “I’ve been managing. How have you been holding up?” “Me?” Odell said. “Well, I think my life’s been easy compared to yours.” 12
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“How have things with Aubrey been?” “She’s forgiven me. We’ve been talking, and things have been mending.” He added, “I know I don’t deserve it. And that… that’s been the toughest part. I know there’s no point in dwelling on it. But I just can’t seem to help it. I can’t seem to get the feelings to go away.” “I know.” “But I don’t think they’ll ever go away. I tried to drink them away, and we all know how that turned out.” “You haven’t had anything to drink, have you?” “No,” Odell said. “I know what it brings, Mark, but some days, it just seems better than the alternative. Most days, if I’m being honest.” “Stay strong, Odell. We’ll get through this. Hell if I know how, but we will.” Odell patted him on the shoulder. “One step at a time. Always one at a time.” Northfield nodded toward the rooftop and said, “Should we get back up there? I think my thumb’s just about done throbbing. And I don’t want Leo to cry and moan.” “More than he already will?” “Yeah.” He grinned. “Somehow, more than he already will.” Odell gestured and said, “Lead the way.”
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