by Bobby Akart
“Hey, now that I can see, I think I know where we are,” shouted Sook.
Duncan held onto the rail as he pulled the bumpers inside the boat. The water started to get choppy as they traveled south.
“Have you been this far south before?” he asked.
“Twice, two years ago,” she replied. “Dear Leader ordered the fishermen to expand their fishing zones. The patrol boats escorted us into the Yellow Sea for five consecutive days. Our catch was very large, as were others from our village. We were rewarded with a larger share.”
“Where are we now?”
Sook pointed toward an inlet that carved its way into Korea. “That is the Taedong River. It runs into Pyongyang.”
“Shall we pay Dear Leader a visit?” said Duncan jokingly, still trying to make sense of whom he had assassinated a week ago. If it was a body double, he chuckled to himself, maybe he could ride into the city and finish the job.
“Oh, no,” replied Sook, taking Duncan’s question literally. “He does not make public speeches often. He must protect himself from bombs.”
“And bullets,” Duncan muttered under his breath.
The two rode along in silence as Sook focused on the increasingly choppy waters. A tackle box broke loose from its ropes, and Duncan crawled on all fours to tie it off. His rifle had been stashed under a compartment beneath a V-shaped seat at the front of the boat. The compartment also stored fishing nets, poles, and a tarp. Chae had insisted upon leaving the fishing gear on board in case the patrol boats boarded them. If Duncan could manage to hide, the fishing gear would provide Sook a cover story that she was helping her father fish for the day.
“We are thirty miles from the western tip of Hwanghaen-do. Twenty miles after that, we are in international waters, but not necessarily safe, as you know.”
Duncan nodded. He helped Sook watch ahead and then found himself looking for things to do. He went to the back of the boat and checked their fuel levels. They were on the second can and, based upon his calculations, would be depleting the third can within the hour. At that point, they’d switch the fuel lines and begin to head into South Korea, home free.
He took a turn at the wheel for a while, following Sook’s instructions to maintain a due south heading. She also checked the fuel levels and took a moment to survey their surroundings. As she returned to Duncan’s side, she had a look of concern on her face.
“This choppy water is causing us to use too much fuel. We will have to stop sooner than Father predicted.”
“What does that mean?” asked Duncan.
“We will have to turn southeast soon,” she replied as she cupped her hands over her eyes to look to the east. The sun was getting brighter, bringing welcome warmth to their bodies, but it made it difficult to see the shoreline.
“Closer to shore and the patrol boats,” added Duncan.
“Yes.”
She took over the wheel, and Duncan made his way to the bow of the whaler. He checked his sidearm and his ammo levels. Then he retrieved the Barrett from the storage compartment and readied his rifle. If they encountered a patrol boat, he wanted to be ready.
Chapter 56
November 30
Near the Northern Limit Line
The Yellow Sea
The Evinrude motor began to sputter as the third fuel can was drained. Sook immediately turned off the ignition and worked with Duncan to switch over the cans. The small whaler rocked back and forth, throwing Sook off balance onto her back. They both had a good laugh as she struggled to right herself.
After Sook recovered from her fall and the laughter, she steadied the cans as Duncan attached the lines. She gave them a final check and began to stand when she immediately fell to her knees.
“Duncan, a boat is coming. Very fast.”
“From the east?”
“Yes. I can’t see it, but I hear it approaching.”
Duncan raised his head over the fiberglass side of the whaler and listened. The low rumble of a boat could be heard, and it was growing louder. The sound was distinctive, not like the outboard engines that powered most of the fishing boats he’d seen at Sinmi-do.
“Sook, listen to me,” he began giving instructions. “I want you to stand at the center console and pretend you’re having trouble starting the engine.”
“But they will board us!” she protested in response.
“We won’t be able to outrun them or their radio. You have to talk to them. I’ll get ready. Okay? Can you do it?”
She studied his eyes and then nodded. She hoisted herself up on the side rails and slowly walked to the console. She pulled her hat over her forehead and made sure her hair was hidden from view. At a distance, she looked like a young boy. Her disguise, however, would not pass closer scrutiny.
Duncan crawled along the deck, being careful to keep his back below the rail. The roar of the engine grew louder, and he realized he did not have much time. When he reached the bow, he began unloading fishing nets and pushed them toward the center console with his feet. He unfurled the tarp, grabbed his rifle, and positioned himself in the middle of the bow under the tarp.
Then he waited, unable to see what was happening.
Sook did a good job of flooding the motor and making it appear the Evinrude wouldn’t turn over. Duncan sensed the patrol ship was getting closer as the driver of the boat throttled down and the wake pushed into the side of the whaler, causing it to rock severely from side to side.
The soldiers began yelling at Sook in their native Korean. The tone of their voices spoke volumes, even though Duncan couldn’t understand them.
Although he barely knew Sook, Duncan sensed she was pretending to act frightened and innocent in her replies. She continued to stall, and Duncan began to break out in a sweat. For all he knew, she had turned on him in order to save herself. He really missed his partner and translator, Park, at this moment.
Duncan held fast, resisting the urge to spring into view. The whaler began to rock severely as the battleship gray patrol boat pulled alongside. The soldiers yelled orders to one another as the two vessels bounced off one another.
Duncan remained under the tarp, waiting and listening. He’d already removed his sidearm, opting for it instead of the bulkier Barrett rifle. He had to hold his position, even though his mind screamed to act now.
Then he heard tapping.
One, two, three.
The men were talking fast, giving each other instructions.
The tapping against the fiberglass of the whaler continued.
One, two, three.
Sook is signaling me! There are three soldiers on the patrol boat.
Duncan heard the sounds of boots hitting the deck of the whaler. The soles of his shoes squeaked as the man moved across the aft deck, causing the whaler to list to its right side. Another set of boots hit the deck, causing the boat to sway in the other direction.
That’s two. Now!
Duncan threw the tarp off his body and fired his weapon as he sat up. His first two rounds were aimed at the soldiers’ chests, catching each man once and forcing them off balance.
As the shots zipped by Sook, she crouched below the center console and then scrambled to put it between her body and the patrol boat.
Duncan directed his attention to the third soldier, who had lost his balance and fallen backwards into the boat’s wheelhouse. The patrol boat was made of solid steel, and the man was well protected.
Duncan maneuvered onto his knees and quickly fired rounds into the soldiers’ heads at the back of the whaler. With those threats eliminated, he could focus on the last soldier.
He fired several rounds through the door opening, shattering the glass windows on the other side. The soldier stuck his Type-88 rifle around the edge of the opening and fired wildly into the whaler, blasting holes in the hull and puncturing the gas cans. Fuel began to spill onto the aft deck, causing Sook to move closer to Duncan.
Duncan rose above the side of the boat and emptied the handgun’s ma
gazine, shooting out two porthole windows in the wheelhouse and sending bullets ricocheting inside.
Undeterred, or out of fear, the soldier fired back, this time destroying the half-windshield of the center console and imbedding two rounds in the Evinrude engine.
Duncan holstered his weapon and raised the Barrett, focusing his sights on the opening. With the steel protecting him, Duncan’s only option was to shoot the rifle, or maybe even the shooter’s hand on the trigger.
He took a deep breath and trained his weapon where the rifle barrel would appear. He waited and prepared to react. His opportunity came.
The weapon appeared, and just as it began to fire, Duncan let go of a burst of the powerful 7.62-millimeter rounds. The bullets tore into the barrel of the Type-88 and slung it out of the soldier’s grasp. Without hesitation, Duncan leapt onto the side of the whaler and, with a second jump, landed on the deck of the patrol boat. His quickness shocked the soldier, who momentarily froze before Duncan riddled his body with five rounds from stem to sternum, as Dallas used to say. Duncan never asked where the stem was, but the visual was as gruesome as the phrase sounded. Gutted like a fish could have been just as appropriate.
“Sook, are you okay?”
She emerged from behind the center console of the whaler. “Wow!” she exclaimed. “You are Rambo.”
Duncan laughed as he stuck his head into the wheelhouse and gave the interior of the patrol boat one last look to make sure they hadn’t missed anyone.
“Not really. Rambo makes a lot more money than I do.”
Sook gingerly walked across her father’s destroyed whaler, careful to miss the mix of blood and gasoline that was accumulating on the deck. Duncan extended a hand to her and pulled her up onto the patrol boat.
“Welcome aboard,” he said with a laugh.
She looked around the thirty-foot vessel. The bow held a large anchor and the aft deck held three propane tanks and life rings. From the boat’s antenna, a vinyl rope was attached to a rod at the rear of the vessel. The soldiers were drying tee shirts and boxer shorts by hanging them on the rope.
She shook her head in disgust. “They are lazy and sloppy. You cannot win a war with men like these.”
Duncan furrowed his brow and turned his head slightly. At first glance, he was impressed that Sook had not broken down into a basket case of fear. Yet her statement seemed odd under the circumstances. It was full of contempt and disappointment.
He handed her the Barrett and entered the wheelhouse. He’d torn up the soldier’s body so much that blood and gore were splattered against the back seating area. He dragged the body out the aft side door and dumped it over the railing into the water.
When he returned to the other side, Sook had found a set of binoculars on the patrol boat’s console and was studying the waters to their east. The sun was no longer an impediment to their visibility.
“I’m afraid the whaler is finished,” started Duncan as he looked around the patrol boat with his hands on his hips. “I guess we’ll ride this one into Incheon.”
Sook shrugged and walked back to the men’s laundry line. “I see no flag or markings. We could use these as a flag of surrender.” She pulled down a pair of white boxer shorts.
Sook removed her hat and allowed her hair to flow in the breeze. She began waving the man’s boxers over her head and laughed. “I surrender. I surrender.”
Duncan laughed hysterically at the spectacle. This was probably the first time in her life that Sook could act silly without fear of retribution. She was truly embracing freedom. Duncan, however, knew there was still work to do.
Chapter 57
November 30
The Yellow Sea
International Waters
West of Incheon, South Korea
Duncan untied the two vessels and then fired several strategically placed rounds below the waterline of the whaler. Both of them agreed that the boat might be traced back to her father, so a resting spot several hundred feet below was deemed appropriate. The boat gradually filled with water, and as it sank farther, Duncan added more holes to ensure its demise.
He took the soldiers’ weapons and ammunition and stored them in a compartment on the patrol boat. Once the whaler disappeared, he and Sook started their new ride and headed southeast toward the coast.
At the bow, a flag was erected on of a flagpole they found in the hold, and the boxer shorts were affixed with a string. The white flag was intended to signal any South Korean vessels they encountered that they were not hostiles.
Duncan and Sook rocked along at a steady pace. The steel-hulled patrol boat crashed through the surf better than the whaler, but the vessel was not the best in the North Korean’s fleet. They’d traveled barely twenty miles toward the southeast when the boat began to vibrate.
Duncan checked the seventies-era instruments on the vessel, which appeared to be normal. The fuel gauge rested at a quarter of a tank. All indicators were positive, except for the boat’s behavior.
“Do you know anything about boat engines?” asked Sook.
“Nothing. I guarantee you know more than I do. It doesn’t appear we’re running low on gas unless the gauge is wrong. We’re definitely losing speed, and the engine appears to be failing.”
Sook grabbed the binoculars and studied the shoreline. She could see freighters parked outside Incheon harbor, awaiting their turn to come to port. Airplanes were taking off from the airport, which was on a small island west of the city.
“We’re only twenty miles from shore,” she said as the boat gave one final groan and the engine died. Sook shook her head and shrugged. “I am a good swimmer.”
“Forget it,” said Duncan with a laugh. “Are we safe from the North’s patrol boats?”
“Yes, absolutely. Soon, South Korean Navy will see us. We can wait until that happens.”
Duncan muscled the boat’s steering wheel to point the bow toward land, but the waves immediately steered them back toward the north. “They better find us soon, or the wind might blow us back to Pyongyang.”
“No, maybe Haeju. Not possible to float to Pyongyang.”
Duncan gently put his arm around Sook and laughed. Sometimes, the girl was a warrior. Sometimes she was incredibly literal and gullible. He liked both Sooks.
“Well, the sun is shining and it is warmer today. Why don’t we sit on the bow and wait?”
“Okay. I found snack bars and cigarettes. Do you smoke?”
“No, but I used to chew—tobacco, that is.”
Sook pulled the cigarette out of her mouth and studied it. “You chew this?”
Again, Duncan couldn’t control himself as he laughed at her. He took her by the hand and led her up to the bow seating, which was cold steel. He went into the wheelhouse and found a blanket for them to sit on.
“Sook, do you know how to locate your family in the South?”
“I think so,” she replied. “They settled in Seoul in the Bukchon Hanok Village many years ago. I will find someone there.”
She lit her cigarette and Duncan tried a bite of the snack bar. His reaction was uncontrollable as his face turned sour and he spit the food out into the sea.
“That’s awful,” he said.
“Yes. The soldiers eat worse than the villagers sometimes. Would you like a cigarette instead?”
“No, thanks,” he answered before continuing. “Sook, what if you don’t find your family? What will you do?”
“Do not worry about me, Duncan. Korean people are very welcoming and friendly. As a defector, they will take me in as a hero. I will avoid the government, however.”
“Why is that?”
“The government will use me as a propaganda tool. I will be a prized possession to aggravate Dear Leader. The soldiers will distribute my picture all over North Korea until they find my family. They will be publicly executed as a warning to all others against defecting.”
“Makes sense,” said Duncan as he lifted his binoculars. He thought he’d heard the faint sou
nd of an approaching boat. “Sook, two, no, three fast boats are approaching from Incheon. We have to make them understand who we are. Let them know we are surrendering.”
“Yes, I am anxious to speak with a South Korean. I have dreamt of this moment all my life.”
Chapter 58
November 30
Near Boundary Creek
Northern Montana
Palmer and Cooper had studied the map, and the five riders rode east toward the St. Mary River, which flowed from St. Mary Lake into Montana. Boundary Creek was a small tributary known for traversing the U.S.-Canadian border. After they reached the river, they found a fresh, well-worn trail that meandered through the hills and over the border. Cooper was surprised that the refugees waiting at the border crossing didn’t consider other crossing routes, but then again, people are like cattle, sometimes they lack the ability to think for themselves and apply alternative thinking to problem-solving. Instead, they opted for following the person in front of them, mindlessly moving along through life like the herd.
Since they’d left Calgary, their luck had gradually changed for the worse. Cooper thought the longer the apocalypse lasted, the more dangerous the world would become. Even the process of crossing the border had been complicated. And clearly, every town they approached would not welcome them with open arms.
Kind of like the old War World II stories Pops used to tell about Normandy and Iwo Jima, they were going to have to fight inch by inch and mile by mile to make it home. He, Riley, and Palmer were up to the task. It was becoming apparent Morales was not, and his loyal friend Pacheco would stay by the injured man’s side.
As predicted, as the day went on, his fever worsened, and his condition deteriorated. Palmer was concerned that a bone might have been splintered or internal bleeding might be taking place. Bacterial organisms could invade a deep cut or wound, causing infection around nearby bones. If a bone was chipped or broken, the bacteria could invade the bone itself. He continued to have a fever and chills. The wound area was turning red and swollen. Overall, Morales was becoming irritable, insisting upon frequent stops.
