Feral Nation Series Box Set 2 [Books 4-6]

by Williams, Scott B.

  Four

  ERIC AND SERGEANT CONNELLY finally broke their silence and began discussing their options as they neared the far eastern shore of the lake, opposite the cove where the helicopter had approached. The men in the two motorboats had hung around the area for a while after the pilot turned the aircraft away in the face of their gunfire, but now they had apparently given up. From the sound of their motors, one was heading back in the direction of the compound and the other was going north, likely to inform those controlling the lock and dam of what had happened earlier.

  “They won’t be back,” Eric agreed when Sergeant Connelly said what they both knew—that the two of them were on their own. “That borrowed Lakota is the only helicopter and pilot Lieutenant Holton has available.”

  “No, after losing the gunboat already, he won’t chance it again after he finds out what happened here tonight. He’s going to assume your mission failed just like mine.”

  “Yeah, and that’s total bullshit, but it won’t be the first time something like this has happened on an operation. I suppose we’ll both be written off now.”

  “I will, along with the rest of my men, but as far as the lieutenant’s concerned, you never existed in the first place if what you’ve told me is true, Branson.”

  “I’ve got no reason to lie.”

  “No, I suppose you don’t. You stuck your neck out for me and now you’re not getting your end of the bargain any more than Lieutenant Holton is getting his firsthand intel. Now, he’ll have to base whatever decision he makes about this place on what he already knows. I know he wants to hit these bastards and take them out, but I doubt he will anytime soon because he doesn’t have the resources. The logistics are just too complicated because of the distance unless he can find a way to get more support for it, and that could take a while. It’s not like he can call up and ask for another squad of Rangers or SEALS.”

  “It sounds like a personal problem for the Lieutenant to me and it’s out of my hands now,” Eric said. “You came here by way of the Tennessee River. How far is it and what’s the situation between here and the confluence with the Ohio? It looks like we’re gonna have to paddle it.”

  “If we’re going to have to paddle, then it’s a long fucking way, that’s the situation! But I guess you’re right. What other choice do we have?”

  “From looking at the map with Lieutenant Holton, I remember seeing that the river runs through mostly rural areas; woods and farms and such. Can you confirm that? I’ve got topo maps of the lake, including the lock and dam area, but nothing of the area downstream, because it wasn’t part of the plan.”

  “There’s not much near the river for the most part, that’s true. It shouldn’t be too hard to stay out of sight, especially traveling at night.”

  “Did you see any sign of activities below the dam that could be connected to these nut jobs on the lake?”

  “Not really. We didn’t encounter any hostility until we approached the locks, and even there, everything looked normal from the other side of the dam. The lock gates were open and apparently functioning. We didn’t have any reliable intel on what was going on down here, which was the purpose of our investigation. We didn’t know that they were in control of this lake too, as the reports we’d gotten were from a bit farther south, on the Tenn-Tom Waterway proper. Once they got us trapped in that lock, there was no escape. I should have known better, but this entire situation is so off the charts that it’s impossible to anticipate everything that might happen. Now three good men are dead. It should have been me, instead of them, because I was in command.”

  “I know how you feel, but you survived, and I think you’ll eventually get your opportunity for payback. Lieutenant Holton is going to want a full debriefing, and a first-hand report from the ground, especially from the inside, is worth a lot. If what you saw of the river is still true, then that dam is the main obstacle we have to worry about. We’ve got to figure out how to get around it without being seen.”

  “Well, I’m sure it’d be easy enough on foot, cutting through the woods, but you’d have to go pretty far out of the way. Once they brought me through the lock and onto the lake, I could see that they had camps set up on both ends of the dam. There’s a good many houses and cabins on both sides of the lake there too. To go around behind them, you’d have to make a big loop through the hills and then drop back down to the river on the other side. It wouldn’t be much of a problem if you didn’t have to carry the kayak. You sure don’t want a dead weight like me slowing you down! You need to leave me somewhere around here where I can hole up in the woods, and maybe when you make it back and tell him I’m alive, you can talk the lieutenant into sending that bird out here one more time. He’ll have no choice if he wants to hear what I’ve got to report.”

  “I’m not leaving you behind, Sergeant Connelly, that’s settled, and you know it. You don’t get to stay here and lay around enjoying a lakeside camping trip while I do all the work to paddle back. I may have to help you when we’re out of the boat, but you can still help me paddle when we’re on the river. That sounds like a fair trade to me. If we have no choice but a long portage through the hills I can disassemble the kayak and carry it on my back if I have to. I’ll make a second trip and carry you too if there’s no other way. But first, I want to study all the options.”

  “Then we’d better pull over to shore somewhere and look at your map. I may not be able to remember all the details I saw that day, considering what had just happened, but the map will help me piece it together.”

  “We will. Let’s take advantage of the dark while we have it though and get a little closer. Once it’s daylight I’d like to get a look at the actual dam before we decide what to do. It looks like this rain is set in, so if it holds out and we have to portage the long way through the woods, we can probably get started without waiting for dark again. Once we’re on the river, we can switch to moving only at night.”

  Eric knew the sergeant was right about the difficulty of getting a man who couldn’t even walk over a rough portage. Even a short distance would be a lot of work, but if it was too far to carry him, Eric would figure out an alternative. It was going to be a major physical effort and he had already been on the move for hours, but he wasn’t ready to rest and wanted to push on if at all possible. That helicopter pilot was returning to the post without him, and after he was debriefed, Lieutenant Holton would have to tell Shauna and Jonathan that Eric was missing. What would happen to them after that, Eric had no idea. The lieutenant had promised he would still help them get to Colorado in the worst-case scenario, but even so, Eric couldn’t imagine the two of them going there to look for Megan without him. And even assuming they found her, then what? How would the three of them ever get back to south Louisiana? And how would Eric know if they had or not? This situation was going to complicate the hell out of things, and he had to force himself not to let his thoughts go there and instead keep his focus on relentless forward motion, staying in the moment. He knew he could get back a whole lot faster if he weren’t dealing with a wounded man but leaving Sergeant Connelly behind wasn’t a consideration. The man was a fellow warrior and one of the good guys as far he knew, and it didn’t matter that they’d never met before tonight; Eric was going to bring him out. The trip would take longer, and he’d have to work harder because of it, but Eric Branson was no stranger to setbacks and he’d certainly never been afraid of hard work. He was determined to make the best of the situation and do whatever it took to return to that post and resume his quest.

  When dawn finally broke on the lake, Eric steered the kayak towards a narrow sandbar at the base of a steep bank and got out to study the maps. It was time to determine exactly where they were before proceeding any closer to the occupied lock and dam. With Sergeant Connelly’s help, the two of them deduced that they were nearing the point where the entire lake made a sharp bend to the west, and just beyond that bend, they would be able to see the dam.

  “We can get close enough
to get a look without being noticed if we slip quietly up to the tip of this point,” Eric said, tracing the proposed route on the map with his finger. The shoreline on the north side of the lake was broken up by numerous indentations and coves, most of the larger ones headed up by creeks flowing from the surrounding hills. Just as Sergeant Connelly had remembered, the map indicated numerous manmade structures and dwellings along the shoreline in the vicinity of the dam and in some of the larger coves. Avoiding them by going around overland would require a long detour farther inland than Eric would have preferred, but there wasn’t another reasonable option. Studying the contour lines of the map, he knew it wasn’t going to be easy to move both the kayak and a wounded man along that route, aside from the need for stealth.

  The only other possibility was to rely on the darkness and bad weather to try and slip by the guards at the dam. That would have been easy enough before the events of last night, but Eric knew they would be on high alert now, after what happened then. Getting that close in the kayak would be risky regardless of the conditions. Swimming could work, but he wasn’t sure Sergeant Connelly was up to that either, and then, they’d have to find another boat on the other side. However they got around it, the dam was going to be a pain in the ass and Eric knew they were looking at many lost hours before they could start down the Tennessee River and be on their way. Even though he was tired, he wanted to go ahead and scout both options now, as he was far too restless and anxious to stop now and do nothing.

  “Let’s paddle on up there where we can get a look at the dam. Then we’ll head up into the cove on this side of it and find a place to hide the kayak. You can wait with it while I go check out this power line right of way.” Eric pointed to a straight line cutting through the wooded land indicated on the map, running roughly parallel to the lake and north of all the coves. “Following that will be faster than bushwhacking cross-country, but that doesn’t mean it’ll be easy.”

  “No, if it’s like most power lines in this part of the country, trying to walk it will involve busting through briar patches on the hillsides and wading sloughs and creeks in the hollows. And, we might get shot by a sniper in a deer stand for our trouble.”

  “Hopefully those clowns at the dam won’t be posting lookouts that far away from the lake. At least the rain will reduce visibility enough that we don’t have to worry about a really long-range shooter. Anyway, if it looks too iffy, we can always just wait until dark too.”

  “That looks to be five, probably closer to six miles. That’ll take most of a day or night in the shape I’m in, and then you’ll still have to come back for the kayak.”

  “Maybe. I’ll know more when I see it first-hand.” Eric folded up the map and put it away. They paddled on until they rounded the big bend, all the while keeping as close to the north shore as possible, the kayak hugging the rocks so as not to present a silhouette to anyone looking that way from the dam. “Wait here,” Eric said, as he let the boat drift to a stop under a cluster of exposed roots that extended down from a tall sycamore growing right on the edge of the bluff above. “I’m going to climb up there where I can get a better view.”

  With Sergeant Connelly holding the boat steady against the bank, Eric pulled his way up the wet roots until he reached the base of the tree. From there, he scrambled another twenty feet up the slippery rocks to a narrow ledge from which he had a decent view of the entire west end of the lake. Scanning the shoreline and the dam with his binoculars, Eric could see enough even through the rainy mist to tell that Sergeant Connelly was right. It would be extremely difficult to go any nearer to that dam without being seen. Doing so in the kayak would put them in an exposed position, with little recourse once they were spotted. If he were alone, he might try swimming it at night, but that would require ditching everything but his weapons and finding another boat on the other side. Seeing all the lake cabins he could make out in the distance, Eric had no doubt he could swipe a canoe somewhere on the other side, but he didn’t think Sergeant Connelly was up for that kind of aquatic action tonight. He was going to have to make the overland route work, but the idea of acquiring another boat below the dam made that prospect slightly less daunting. Eric carefully climbed back down to tell the sergeant what he was thinking.

  “Like you said, it’ll take me at least as long to come back and get the kayak as it’ll take to get you around there. There’s bound to be some unoccupied camps and vacation homes nearby. I’ll bet I can locate a canoe on the other side of that dam. It won’t be as ideal as the kayak, but it’ll work to get us far enough downriver to avoid these folks. Then, we’ll see if we can find a motorboat so we can make up for all this lost time.”

  “I wouldn’t count on anything that needs gas, but you’re probably right about the canoe. It’s your call if you want to leave your kayak. You’re the one that has to carry it if you come back for it.”

  Eric didn’t really want to abandon the Klepper, as useful as it was and as impossible to replace as he knew it would be, but he had to consider that every hour lost in the attempt to return to the post increased the chances that Shauna and Jonathan wouldn’t be there when he arrived. If it were just the boat he had to portage, that would be one thing. But getting the sergeant several miles through woods and rough terrain was going to be far more difficult. Eric wasn’t looking forward to it, but at least if they went that way, they could start now, and not have to wait around all day for darkness to return.

  He pushed the kayak away from the bank and turned it around to paddle into the cove just east of the point, following the wooded shoreline until the inlet headed up at the mouth of a small, fast-running stream. After helping Sergeant Connelly out of the cockpit, Eric got out and waded, pulling the kayak a good hundred yards up the shallow creek, where he then dragged it into a thicket to hide it. Then he sorted through the gear he had inside. There wasn’t much, since this mission was only supposed to last a few hours. If they could avoid contact, weapons and ammo wouldn’t be an issue. He had used all the C-4 and detonators he’d been carrying but he still had four hand grenades and a dozen loaded magazines for both his rifle and pistol. What would be a problem if they didn’t find more of it soon was food. Eric had two MRE’s he’d tossed in just for emergencies, but he hadn’t expected to need them. Now, he wished he’d taken many more when the lieutenant suggested them. The only other stuff in the kayak was boat-related gear they wouldn’t need if he didn’t portage the Klepper; a PFD, a small folding anchor, a manual bilge pump and a third take-down paddle.

  Leaving the sergeant there with his pistol to guard their stuff, Eric continued on up the creek alone until he came to the place where it intersected the east-west running power line right of way. There was a steep slope rising in either direction from the creek bed, which was to be expected, but there were also old wheel ruts forming a rough road that would be easy enough to follow. Something in the weeds near the edge of the road caught his eye, and Eric walked closer to discover the remains of a deer kill—the head and lower legs of a spike buck—cut off cleanly and unmistakably the work of human hunters. There’d probably been a gut pile too, but the kill appeared to more than a few days old and had already been picked over by scavengers. It would be logical that plenty of hunting was going on here to supplement the supplies of those involved in occupying the dam. The power line right of way was a good place to ambush deer as well as men, but in this rain, Eric felt the risk of using it now was low enough to be acceptable, especially as he didn’t see any footprints or wheel tracks in the dirt road that were made since it started.

  By the time he returned to where he’d left the sergeant, Eric had worked out a plan for moving his wounded companion. The only thing that was really feasible was to make a travois of sorts, with which he could drag the man behind as he walked. It would be strenuous going, but nothing like trying to carry him on his back. It would also be faster and far more efficient than helping him hobble along on one foot. Eric had what he needed to make such a rig. All he had
to do was cut a couple of poles from small saplings for the frame, and then he would remove the tough fabric deck from the Klepper and rig it as a stretcher. He could make a yoke to pull against with one of the spare paddle halves and some lashing line, and that would be that. He figured Sergeant Connelly would object to this proposal though, and he was right.

  “You’re going to half kill yourself trying to drag me that far. Just help me make a crutch. I may not be able to keep up, but you’ve been up all night and I haven’t. You go on ahead and get some sleep when you get there. I’ll eventually catch up.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” Eric said. “A travois will work great. I can get you there almost as fast as I can walk, and you won’t risk messing up that knee even more. Besides, the spare ammo and other stuff can ride with you. We’ll do this in one trip unless I’m wrong about finding a canoe when we get there.”

  “Yeah, if that happens, then you’ve ruined the kayak.”

  “Not at all. It won’t hurt the deck fabric to use it for this. I’ll rig it so that only the ends of the poles touch the ground. It’s going to work. You’ll see.”

  Five

  THE MAKESHIFT TRAVOIS PROVED better than Eric expected. He had cut two 10-foot support poles from springy hickory saplings that were both lightweight and strong. Pulled from just below waist level, the angle was sufficient to keep the stretcher clear of the ground and the wet mud and rain-slicked leaves of the forest floor decreased the resistance, making it easier to drag and surprisingly quiet. Sergeant Connelly felt better about the situation and gave in to his reluctance at being carried when he saw how well it worked and how much easier it was on Eric than any other method they could devise. He had Eric’s M4 cradled across his chest where he could use it quickly or pass it to Eric if necessary. The arrangement kept Eric’s hands free to grip the yoke and kept the extra weight off him while he pulled. The downside to the soft ground that made the dragging easy and quiet was that the ends of the poles made two deep and very distinct drag marks that anyone crossing their trail couldn’t help but notice. Eric doubted anyone would if the searchers were still looking for signs of their attackers on the lake, but even here, he didn’t like leaving such clear evidence of their passing. It would be especially problematic if they didn’t find a canoe or some other suitable boat and he had to make a second trip.