by A J Newman
The first radio report of piracy came only a few days later; we heard distress calls from a boat under attack. It was off the coast by Pascagoula when the calls went silent. There have been several boats and a few large ships attacked since then.”
“That is my most significant fear once we head out to the sea. I know we can make the trip without any major issues, barring a hurricane, of course, but we must be prepared for Peg Leg Pete trying to take our boat.”
“It’s worse than that. Some of the pirates want slaves and women to sell in Mexico. It is getting to be a large business.”
***
On the road to
Bayou La Batre, Louisiana
We made good time, except for deciding to skirt around Tupelo and Meridian. I didn’t want to take a chance on facing a gang in a gunfight trapped between buildings and barricades.
We were still traveling at night so we didn’t meet many people except at roadblocks, and most of them were just like us, trying to survive.
A few asked us for food and other supplies. We had to turn them down. All but a few just waved as we left, but a couple of groups demanded that we share our food with them.
I had to shoot the leader of one group between the eyes and Davi fired a burst from the SAW over the heads. This tended to calm them down. People were starving and didn’t care that it was our food; they just needed it, but so did we.
Most of these were filthy and didn’t try to feed themselves. They were used to feeding off the government teat. They simply could not fathom the concept that Uncle Sam died in the last nuclear attack in Pennsylvania, or perhaps he passed away a year ago.
It was dark when we finally arrived in the area around Mobile.
Davi and I looked at the map during our last restroom break, decided to get off Highway 45 and work our way to the west of Mobile Regional Airport, and then down to Bayou La Batre. We turned south on Highway 25 and were cruising along when we saw lights up ahead at the Highway 70 crossing.
I signaled the column to stop, and Davi and I walked up the side of the road towards what appeared to be a roadblock. Our luck had run out on good old boys manning roadblocks.
This was a professional crew dressed in black Battle Dress Uniforms, BDUs, with body armor and Humvees with turret mounted SAWs. We scurried back to our convoy and backtracked to the next turn west. We had to cut through subdivisions and a few dirt roads before we found a road heading south again.
Unfortunately, there we found another roadblock manned by the same type of troops.
Davi said, “Those men are guarding all access to the airport. We either have to go way out of our way, or run their roadblock.”
“I don’t want to risk a fight with the kids in the trucks. Let’s try to go further west.”
We turned around, drove down a road heading west and came to a dead end.
“We either have to cut across country or head back north to get around Big Creek Lake.”
“Let’s cut across to the next street heading south.”
We drove through a thinly wooded area, crossed a small creek and found an opening between two houses to get to the next street heading south. Just as we pulled onto the street, I saw a Humvee parked at the house across the street. The lights came on in the house, and a man ran out with a rifle. He walked toward us, and I saw that he had the black BDUs and an M4 pointing at us.
Davi slipped out the passenger side, drew a bead on the bastard and shot him in the head. Before he fell to the ground, lights came on in all of the houses around us and armed men came running out shooting at us as we sped south.
I looked in the mirror and said, “I think we just crashed the neighborhood of the local militia.”
“Those assholes were dressed like Prescott’s men. I wonder………..”
Davi had to start shooting since we were taking fire from both sides and behind us. Everyone was firing back, and both SAWs were effectively slowing the enemy fire. We had stepped into a hornet’s nest.
“Get the fuck out of here. Hit the gas.”
We hit the end of the block, the firing stopped from the sides, and only a few shots were coming in from behind. I floored my truck and was getting the hell out of Dodge when Ben radioed that we were being followed.
Davi yelled, “We can’t let these assholes follow us to the Gulf. We have to stop them now. Keep driving while I grab some LAWS. I’ll have Mike and Roger do the same.
I want you to pull behind a barn or house after I tell them the plan. We are going to put an end to this shit, then hurry the hell up to our awaiting Ark. Now, I’m pissed, and I’ve had enough of people shooting at me!”
“Call them now.”
Davi gave them the plan while I searched ahead for something to hide behind when we ambushed these bastards. I saw several semi-trailers parked beside a couple of small buildings and drove between them stopping behind the closest building.
“Joan, Ally, take Sam and Jacob’s wives and the children behind the other building and hide there until this thing is over.”
“What about Forrest?”
“Sorry. Leave him where he is. We don’t have time to move him.”
We positioned the two vehicles with the SAWs, so they had a good field of fire. I sent Jacob and Sam to our flanks with the other two SAWS. The rest of us took LAWs rockets for the Humvees charging at us.
We could hear the enemy vehicles approaching. They came around a curve and Davi, and Roger fired at the same time and an instant later two Humvees exploded. Ben, Mike and I fired ours and two more exploded. Mike missed his target, and it backed up behind a truck.
Mike was pinned down behind a truck in a crossfire by several of the enemy, now in infantry mode, and couldn’t rise high enough to get position for accurate return fire. One figured out he couldn’t hit Mike directly and started firing at a brick retaining wall behind him. Bits of brick peppered Mike from behind, along with the risk of ricochets.
He dropped down below the truck and shot one of the bastards in the head and another through the neck. The last one obviously decided that discretion was the better part of valor, and ran away from the fight.
Mike had a handful of small wounds on his neck and back from the metal and brick striking him, but had a more serious wound on the back of his right shoulder.
“Mike yelled, “Damn, I’ve been hit in my neck and back.”
I yelled back, “Rub some dirt on it, then walk it off, you pussy.”
We had a brief firefight with four men from the Humvee and killed two before they backed away and sped off away from us. Living to fight again, another day is not cowardice. It’s called preservation of forces. I fired a Law at them but hit a damn tree branch hanging over the road.
“Davi yelled, “Let’s go before they come back.”
“Anybody wounded?”
“Me,” Mike yelled.
I chuckled and said, “Oh, good grief, Mike, go see the school nurse and get a Band-Aid. You’re such a wussy.”
Smiling himself, now, Mike retorted, “Ok, ok, but just remember, what goes around comes around.”
Ricochets had nicked both Mike and Ben. There were both crabby and bitchy, but the poor babies were okay.
Sally kept pressure on Mike’s wound, and the bleeding stopped before we made it two blocks down the road. Ben only needed a bandage.
As always, we took the weapons and ammo from the fallen, loaded up and hit the road. I kept the peddle to the metal for over half an hour slowing to a more normal pace as we approached the north end of Bayou La Batre.
The only good news was that Forrest woke up. The bad news was he had to be told he was a couple hundred miles from the lake. Joan filled him in on what happened while he was unconscious and he surprised us by saying we did the right thing by taking him and his kids with us.
Personally, I think that having his head on Joan’s lap for the rest of the trip may have sealed the deal. They were bonding, and his kids were already fond of Joan. It seemed strange to me,
but there could be no question that here in the after, relationships developed at hyper speed.
***
“Aaron, vehicles approaching. I hope it’s our girl and her friends.”
“Better safe than sorry. Man the SAWs and call for Mort while I run up to see who it is.”
Mort brought six armed people with him, and they quickly set up a crossfire to ambush any undesirables. They lay behind walls, boats in dry dock and in culverts. They were prepared, and professional.
Aaron saw the lead vehicle turn down their street and immediately recognized the woman manning the SAW on the roof of the old pickup. It was his beautiful daughter. He stepped out into the street and waved at the convoy approaching them.
“My Davi, I have missed you so much. I know many of your friends, but when we get them all aboard ship and safely out to sea, you will have to introduce everyone to your Uncle Mort and his people.”
“Davi, are you okay?” her mom yelled.
Davi hugged her mother and father then turned to see her Dad’s best friend and cried out, “Uncle Mort, you rascal, you haven’t changed a bit.”
“And you my dear are as beautiful as ever.”
They were fed sandwiches and fruit while Mort filled them all in on the progress of getting the boats loaded and ready for the trip.
“My friends, I’m sorry, but we have to immediately load up and get out of here. There are some very bad people a few miles north of here.”
I replied, “There are twenty less of those bastards. We had to blast our way through them to get here.”
Mort looked terrified and replied, “Then we have to leave right away. You see the boats. Start loading them now and prepare to sail in two hours. All hands on deck and we leave in two hours even if we leave supplies on the dock.”
The next two hours were all assholes and elbows as we frantically moved all of our supplies and people onto the boats before the sun came up. Mort was glad to see the four extra SAWs, LAWs and a large amount of weapons and ammo we brought to the party.
Aaron said, “Keep the SAWs handy, but we’ll mount them after we get away from this place. Who has sailing experience?”
Roger Forrest and Mike were the only ones that had sailed small boats and were immediately drafted to help move the yacht, renamed the Exodus II, away from the dock.
We stacked our supplies all over the deck and in the cabin space. We didn’t try to stow it away in its proper place as we wasted no time and quickly had everything piled high on the two boats.
“Joan. Please take charge of the children while the rest of us prepare to sail and stow the supplies.”
Mike and Roger removed the mooring lines while Aaron started the auxiliary diesel engine. Aaron skillfully pulled away from the dock and headed the three-quarters of a mile downstream to the Gulf of Mexico. Navigating only by moonlight to avoid being seen was dangerous close to shore, but wouldn’t be an issue in open water.
“Men, we need to get a half mile out before we can be sure we can tack port or starboard. Maintain light discipline. We are living on borrowed time, and I want to get out of sight as soon as possible.
Mort, please take the lead and use your depth finder to tell us when we cut west. We’ll go that way for a mile or so, and then head straight out into the Gulf.”
Chapter 17 - Sailing
Mort passed us in the channel and led the way out into the Gulf. Davi was on Mort’s boat, and both of us were charged with watching the shore for the enemy. Mike and one of Mort’s crew were charged with watching for aircraft. I saw several Humvees approaching on the main road by the docks and radioed Davi. The sun was just below the horizon, and the dark was yielding to a soft hazy light.
“Enemy vehicles by our dock. They have mounted machine guns. The dumbasses have all of their lights on.”
Davi told Mort, he checked the depth and had her reply, “Cut right now! Follow us.”
The enemy had not spotted us yet, and we would soon be around the mouth of the channel and out of sight. We were almost out of their line of vision when I saw the vehicles flying towards the closest point of land in our direction.
I yelled, “Everyone take cover,” as I radioed the warning to Davi.
The vehicles stopped and started firing at us, missing short and wide, but were getting closer.
“I yelled, “Start firing! I’ll watch through the binoculars and guide you into the target.”
The team fired all eight SAWs at the vehicles hitting water most of the time until I talked them closer and closer to the enemy. Then we unleashed the .50 cal. BMGs on the bastards. The tracer’s glow enabled us to walk the bullets onto the targets. The .50s had the range to devastate the Humvees and soon both were on fire and the crews dead.
The remaining troops popped up and fired a few times, but only two rounds hit Mort’s boat with none hitting ours. The .50 cal. BMGs wiped them out.
We moved past their line of sight and started angling out to sea as we stayed out of their line of fire.
Mort radioed to Aaron, “Keep a close watch on the sky. They could have helicopters.”
The sky was clear and yet there were no helicopters, so we sailed due south. Mort waited for six hours before calling us to make sure we were out of the line of sight radio range, and no one could easily track us. Our small handheld radios only had a range of 10 to 15 miles over water.
We sailed at seven knots, and as expected, it would take another day to get out of the range of aircraft.
There hadn’t been time to cover our long range plan. Aaron said, “I will give you the short version tonight. We’ll stop for an hour, lash the boats together and give you the full briefing.”
“Sounds good. Where are we heading.”
“Many of our compounds around the world have recently come under attack by an unknown enemy. This, coupled with the invasion of the USA by multiple countries makes it necessary to head to one of our compounds in South America.
Initially, we are sailing to Belize, and then on to Aruba or perhaps French Guiana if necessary. Just before we arrive in Belize, we’ll stop at the eastern most point of the Yucatan Peninsula to fish and search for game.
While there, we’ll try to smoke and sundry the fish and meat.
This is not a long trip, but we will pace ourselves as though it were. We will catch rainwater and fish at every opportunity.
We need and intend to conserve all supplies for the proverbial rainy day. Get used to eating a lot of fish until we find, and grow our own food.”
I replied, “Mort, we understand, and everyone here will do their best to make sure we are conserving our supplies. I’m not sure what fish we can catch in the open Gulf moving at seven knots, but we’ll give it a try. ”
Nodding his head, Aaron said, “No, you are right, well, unless you are fond of flying fish. The deep waters of the Gulf are akin to a desert. We’ll wait until we are off the coast of the Yucatan to do any serious fishing.”
We made two large rain catchers out of spare sails and placed one on each ship. We rigged them so we could quickly put them in place during the day and left them in place at night. They were roughly ten feet by twelve with a low end that funneled water into four plastic 250-gallon international bulk carriers. It often rains in the Gulf, and we intended to catch as much water as possible.
Trolling artificial lures was moderately productive, but we would go for hours before we caught anything. Still, we ate fish every day and soon had our fill. Even Mort asked the galley staff to cook some beef stew on the third day.
On the morning of the fourth day, Sam was on lookout on the yacht; he saw something and yelled, “Land ho! I see land.”
“Where?”
“South, dead ahead” he yelled pointing in the direction of his sighting.
I had just taken over the watch from Ben and trained my binoculars ahead. I saw a green mass about 10 miles ahead.
The yacht cut power, and I saw Mort waving for us to drop the sails, which we quickly acc
omplished, well, not as quickly as a more competent crew does. Still, we dropped sail in, for us, record time. We brought the boats together, and Mort gave us his plan.
“Radar doesn’t show anything but the land ahead. Everyone has to keep an eye out for pirates or government troops. Either would be bad for us. We need to divide into hunting and fishing teams. We don’t need any water thanks to our rain catchers, but I want a couple hundred pounds of both meat and fish, in addition to what we eat while we stay here.”
Mike, Ben, Davi, Paul and I took one of the Zodiacs to shore to hunt while the others stayed back to fish or pull guard duty. We each took a compound bow with plenty of arrows along with our usual weapons.
Mort said, “This area was sparsely settled before TSHTF, but why take chances shooting when we are all proficient with the bows.”
We landed the Zodiac about five miles east of a village called Holbocks, which was on a peninsula that formed the north end of a large bay. We landed, hid the boat and walked inland to start hunting. There were hundreds of monkeys, birds, and small lemur type animals, but nothing we wanted to eat.
Davi scolded us with, “If you go hungry for a week, you will eat monkey. It’s not bad roasted over an open fire.”
“I’ll take your word for it. Let’s find a pig, cow, deer or two hundred rabbits.”
We hunted for two hours and only had a small pig to show for our effort. The pig field dressed down to about 25 pounds. I placed it in a plastic bag and threw it over my shoulder.
I said, “We’ll starve at this rate.”
Davi shushed me and pointed to the ground.
“She whispered, “Those tracks are from a big cat. These are from a small woman or a child. The cat is stalking the human. Let’s hurry.”
“Davi, should we risk being seen to save someone we don’t know,” blurted Ben.
I replied, “What if it was your wife?”
