by A J Newman
We walked for ten minutes when we heard a terrifying roar up ahead. Davi motioned for us to follow her. We only covered about fifty feet when we saw a large black cat trying to shake a young woman from a tree. The cat looked like a Panther and was twice the size of a big German Shepherd. The young girl was about 15 feet up in the tree clinging for dear life while beating on the cat with a club.
I notched an arrow, drew my bow back and shot an arrow deep into the side of the cat. It turned, looked at me and charged. I reached for another arrow, brought it to the bow, notched it on the string when I heard a shot as the Panther crashed down on top of me. I pushed and shoved to get the big cat off me and finally with Davi’s help, managed to roll the beast off me.
I walked away with only a few deep scratched from its front claws and knew I was lucky to be alive.
“Davi, thanks for your timely, and accurate shot.”
“I’m always saving your sorry ass. Come on, we need to check on the girl.”
Mike and Paul coaxed her down from the tree and tried to make sense of her Spanish.
Davi and I walked up, and I heard her say, “We must go. They are searching for me.”
I couldn’t catch every word, but my high school Spanish class was finally coming in handy.
I replied, “Who is searching for you and why are they searching for you,” in my broken Spanish.
Her reply scared me more than the Panther.
My translation of what she said was, “The Cartel, and I’m one of their slaves. My friends and I escaped this morning. The Panther killed her and would have killed me if you had not arrived. Hurry, we must go. They will kill all of us.”
I translated for the team and said, “Let’s get back to the boat now and get out of here.”
We ran back to the boat, only stopping once for a minute to rest. Mike fired up the Zodiac, and we headed full speed back to the sailboat.
Davi said, “Don’t use the radios. They might overhear us and pinpoint the signal.”
It only took a few minutes to motor back to our sailboat, we immediately told everyone about our new friend, and that we had to haul ass out of here. The team quickly stowed the fishing gear hauled in the anchors and prepared to head back out to sea.
I said, “Mort told us to head on to Cancun and try to trade or purchase food there.”
The young girl took me off to the side and said, “No Cancun. Cartel own Cancun.”
I yelled to my friends and said, “Does anyone speak Spanish?”
Callie replied, “Dad, you know I took five years of Spanish. I’ll talk to her.”
A few minutes later Callie filled us in on why the girl was adamant on not going to Cancun.
“Dad, this drug Cartel has taken over this end of Mexico down to the north end of Panama. Cancun is their headquarters. We must head out to sea, and we must not even think about landing anywhere until we are south of Panama.
Oh, and her name is Susan Imelda Herrera Garcia.”
I signaled for Mort to head due west out to sea and we remained on that heading for 10 hours before I radioed Mort. We agreed to head southeast for another 10 hours as fast as the sailboat would go before deciding where to go.
We tied the boats together for 3o minutes to have a meeting, and as usual, Mort led the meeting. I rather enjoyed the roll of X.O. besides, Mordecai was for more qualified to serve as the leader of our band of gypsies, than I was.
“My friends, I think we take the girl at her word and skip landing until we clear Panama. I suspect that some War Lord will also control Venezuela.
This means that we have to live off our supplies longer than planned. On the other hand, and it’s a big hand, we can try the Cayman Islands or Jamaica for food. While I don’t know much about the Cayman’s, I’m sure Jamaica will be, again run by pirates. I think we should definitely give it a wide berth.”
We voted to try the Caymans for food and water if needed. The Grand Cayman Island was just over 380 miles, or two to three days sailing time from our current location.
The Cayman Islands didn’t pan out. We were met at sea by friendly, but firm natives who offered water, but no food.
We heard, “You Gringos are flooding down south to escape the Mexicans, Russians, and Cubans. We don’t want you. No one wants you. Go home.”
They gave us water and told us to move on. We did.
Aaron, are you sure that any of the Israeli compounds survived. We are going to starve if we don’t find a home soon.”
“I can’t guarantee anything. I pray every night.
I see no option other than to move on and find a place. We need to make a decision on heading down the east side of South America or up the west side to the Pacific. No, that is not possible. Our little flotilla would never survive the trip around the Horn. It’s a pity that the Panama Canal is owned by the Chinese.”
“Aaron, everyone is getting worn out from not knowing if we will find a place to call home.”
***
We decided to stay on the east side of South America. The days were getting longer, hotter and more humid as we headed southeast. It seems really odd to us that hot and cold no longer seem to matter as much now as it had before the lights went out…humanity adapts, and the Earth abides.
We are tougher and never sweat the small stuff anymore. We laugh more, dance and have time for our friends. We tell more jokes and never take offense when kidded. The people around us are our family, our clan.
We didn’t know what lay ahead. Pirates, War Lords, or paradise, but we knew the USA had gone down the toilet, and we vowed never to become slaves to any man or government. We had resolved to live free or die trying.
“Dad, Susan has an idea on where we can find a home.”
I looked at Callie and started to tell her to tell Susan to mind her own business, when I remembered my manners and said, “Please, ask Susan to join us.”
Susan walked up to the table and sat down between Mike and myself and said, “I told Callie, my last name is Herrera Garcia. That’s not true. My real name is Aimee Bassot. I am from the island of Martenvous, which is not far from here.”
I had to stop, look at her and say, “You are speaking in perfect English.”
“Yes, I speak seven languages. I was on vacation from school in Cancun when I was kidnapped by those asshole drug lords.”
“Go on.”
“My father, Henri Bassot, is the highest ranking military officer on Martenvous. He is the Capitaine de Vaisseau, the commander of the French Naval and Air Forces, stationed at Fort Saint Charles. He will reward you if you take me home.”
“I thought you were Spanish.”
“I didn’t know you, or trust you, at first. Martenvous is a French Island. I know you can find a home there.”
***
Martenvous was 210 miles southeast from us with Grenada and Trinidad due south. We decided to try Martenvous first and hope Aimee/Susan wasn’t playing us. My French is much better than my Spanish.
Chapter 18 - Martenvous
“The island of Martenvous is only 40 miles long by 15 miles wide, and the native population is around 385 thousand before the lights went out up north. The capital and largest city is Fort de Ville. My dad lives on the base at Fort Saint Charles.”
“Have you heard anything about life on the island since the lights went out?”
“No, but we had power in Cancun so I would hope things are pretty much normal.”
Mort, Aaron and I spent some time quizzing Aimee about the island, and what we might face upon our arrival.
We were being cautious and stopped 15 miles due west of the island and continued listening to our shortwave and walkie talkie radios.
We didn’t want to be surprised by drug lords or pirates again. The shortwave radio had the usual banter from survivors around this half of the world.
Depending on atmospheric conditions we heard people from a thousand miles away or fifteen. Most were asking for help, and some were warning people not to appr
oach their part of the world.
The one common theme was that most were barely getting by and were living off the land. It greatly concerned us that even countries not affected by the EMP blasts were struggling to survive.
“I’m concerned that we might not be as welcome as Aimee thinks. This was a resort island that got away from farming when the tourist industry skyrocketed. The island won’t support 400 thousand people,” said Aaron
I replied, “I was thinking the same thing and am worried that many others like us have left the USA and other countries and flooded the islands and countries in this area.”
Aaron said, “Let’s lay low and listen to our radios before we sail into a trap, or get run off at gunpoint.”
We all agreed and held to an area 10-15 miles away from the coast. We continued to listen and heard some communications that excited us and other communications that concerned us.
“Aaron, Zack, come here quick!”
“Just a minute.”
“What have you heard.”
“Listen. I’ll translate,” said Davi.
The person was speaking in French.
“…we have the rebels surrounded. They are ready to surrender.”
Another French voice replied, “No, do not take any prisoners. They are traitors. Shoot them all.”
“Sir, there are over a hundred men and women.”
“I said shoot them all.”
“Oui, mon Capitaine, right away.”
Before what we heard sank into our minds, Aimee ran up saying, “That was my father. What did he say?”
Aaron replied, “Did Martenvous have any civil unrest before the lights went out?”
“No more than any country. Why do you ask?”
“Your father just gave the orders to shoot a hundred men and women trying to surrender. There was an attack on a food storage warehouse, and the military fought the attackers off and chased them into the mountains where they boxed them into a canyon. Your father gave orders to shoot them all.”
“No, there must be a mistake. My father is a kind and gentle man. He wouldn’t kill his own people. They must be an army from another island.”
I spoke up, “She has a point. There are dozens of islands in the area. It’s easy to see that one might try to steal from the other.”
“We need to keep an open mind, but remain cautious.”
The following day we heard the following transmission that was in English, “Charles, we are heading back to Barbados. Get your people back to the boats. We were given an hour to get out of Martenvous or they would sink our boats.”
“The bastards won’t help us.”
“No, the ship’s captain said they don’t need more mouths to feed and will sink us with their canons if we don’t leave.”
“I think, he meant more black mouths to feed.”
“We are loading now. Will meet you 15 miles south to decide where to go.”
“Roger out.”
The transmission ended.
We also heard normal radio stations giving weather reports, local news, and music. The two stations sounded as though there hadn’t been over a year of mayhem in the world. The announcers were very upbeat and joked a lot.
***
Captain Henri Bassot was relaxing by the pool after a hard day’s work, with his mistress by his side.
“Mon Cher, order Champagne cocktails, and a shrimp platter to hold us over until dinner. Please tell my chef to prepare lobster and filets for dinner. Oh, tell him I want a chocolate cake for desert. Let him know to expect 18 guests from the French consulate. We will also have the English and Russians to dinner tonight.”
The tall, leggy blonde walked over to the bar, picked up the phone, called the Captain’s assistant and passed the instructions on to her.
He waved at the black woman who served as his maid and said, “Rub some sun block on my back and legs.”
“Oui, my Captain.”
She looked over at him with disgust carefully hidden behind wide, bright brown eyes, and a big smile as she saw his naked body. She picked up the sun block, poured some on her hands and began rubbing it on his back, legs, and buttocks. He rolled over, and she applied the sun block to his chest, the front of his legs and then to his private parts.
She was a beautiful 30-year-old woman who had been told to serve the Captain or leave the island. She shared his bed when the blonde was not available. She looked up, saw the blonde walking towards them and moved away from him back to her station.
The blonde walked up to Henri, grabbed him and said, “I know you are sleeping with your maid, but don’t have her rubbing your dick in public.”
“I’ll do as I please and you’ll shut up unless you want to become a plantation worker.”
An hour later his senior Chief of Staff came to him to say, “Our radar has spotted two boats about 10 miles east of our coast. I told them to intercept the boats and hold them until they receive your instructions.”
“Mai Oui, Andre.”
***
Mort spotted several boats on the radar between the island and us, hoping none were military vessels.
“Zack, we are being hailed by someone claiming to be with the French Navy.”
Aaron had already grabbed the mic and asked in French, “To whom am I speaking?”
“I am Lieutenant Devereau. Who are you, your home port, and where is your destination?”
“We are Americans from the USA seeking a new home.”
“Stop your engines and prepare to be boarded.”
I said, “Aaron, can we outrun them?”
“No.”
Aaron answered, “We are cutting our engines, but it’s too deep to anchor. One of our boats is a sailboat, so it can’t totally stop.”
“Je comprends. Have it put out its sea anchor.”
“We will.”
“Je comprends? What the hell does that mean?” asked a nervous Mike.
Aaron replied, “It means, I understand.”
“Oh, okay, then.”
It was an hour until the ship came into sight. It was a frigate with a 5-inch deck gun, and several twin mounted 50. Cal BMGs. The ship stopped about half a mile away with the 5 incher aimed at us and launched two Zodiacs armed with French made squad machineguns.
Each boat had six men who quickly boarded and searched our vessels. We tried to speak to them, but they shoved us out of the way and poked their rifles into our sides.
The leader finally walked up to Aaron and said in English, “Sorry for the rough treatment, but we have had several ships try to land with bad intentions. Some of your homegrown terrorists tried to take over our home a few months ago. I believe you have heard of the Black Panthers and Black Separatist Movement.”
“Yes, they were causing trouble back home before the lights went out.”
“Well thousands of them left the USA and are trying to take over their own Caribbean Island to forge a new homeland.”
“Sorry that you had to go through that. We are looking for a new home and just want to contribute and work hard.”
“Why do you have so many machine guns on your boats?”
“As you probably know there are pirates on the oceans and many bad people out here. Drug gangs are trying to take over the world.”
“I will call our Captain, and he will tell me what to do with you.”
“Could you tell Captain Bassot that we have brought his daughter, Aimee, back to him safely?”
Aimee came over and introduced herself to the astonished Lieutenant. He keyed his mic and said in French, “Tell Captain Bassot that we have rescued his daughter, Aimee.”
In a few minutes, Aimee was talking with her father and was in tears. She was transferred to the frigate and rushed at full speed to Fort Saint Charles.
The boarding crews stayed with us and guided us into the harbor where our boats were chained to the docks. The boarding crew confiscated our machine guns and all other weapons except for our side arms.
; Aaron watched the boarding team leave the boat only to stand guard on the dock.
“Aren’t we glad we hid most of our weapons and ammo? I don’t trust these people.”
About an hour later, the Lieutenant came down to us and said, “I would like to pass on Captain Bassot’s compliments, along with an invitation to your leaders to attend a homecoming party for his daughter.
The party starts at 7:00 tomorrow evening. We can provide formal clothes if required. I have to inform you that we do not allow firearms on our streets so please, leave your side arms on the boats.”
We gave them the correct sizes for Davi, Ally, Aaron, Mort and me. The clothes and some hygiene products were delivered at noon the next day.
We woke up to find breakfast awaiting us in a tent on the dock. There were croissants, cheeses, jams, ham, and fruit. Lunch was served in the same tent. The meals were delicious.
At breakfast, Ally nudged me and said, “Am I wrong or are Joan and Forrest always together these days?”
I looked over at the next table, and Joan was laughing at something Forrest said and had her hand on his shoulder.”
“Yep, I see the same and have also seen them slip off to the side quite a bit. They swim alone, too.”
“I’m glad she found someone and those children will have a great Mama.”
“And she won’t be chasing your husband.”
“Well, of course, there is that, but hey she’s not your type anyway.
I agreed, but thought, apparently out loud, that I was married to Joan for 16 years and how could she not be my type.
Ally pinched my inner thigh under the table and whispered, “Your type is me.”
The time passed as we continued to listen to radio traffic while watching the Fort, and the town from our boats. We saw two more frigates, and numerous smaller gunboats come and go, past the dock.
