“Everybody does,” Foster said. His hand stayed planted against his Glock, ready to pull it if needed. “What’s your point?”
“My point is you’ll need to move your boat soon,” Walter said. “I can give you a day or two at most. After that, my hands are tied. If you and your boat are still here, then you’ll need to surrender to our constables.”
“The boat or us?” Randy stammered.
“Why, both.” Walter smiled. “We live in a very dangerous world now, friends. Being part of our Disciples is the only way we can guarantee you and your property are kept safe.”
Foster saw the color leave Randy’s face once more.
“It’s a big decision to make,” Foster said carefully. “One that I don’t think we should rush into. Can you give us a few days to think on it? I’d also like to see how the rest of the town is doing. Make sure it’s safe for us to stay here. If you don’t mind, maybe we’ll attend one of your congregation’s ministries, too.”
“We would like that,” Walter said. “I need to get back to work. Calvin why don’t you give these boys directions to the church?”
“Yes, sir,” Calvin mumbled.
“Two days, gentlemen. I will need your answer then,” Walter said as he backed away. He made a show of opening hands outward like what he was about to say was out of his control. “Best I can do for you under the circumstances.”
“We’ll let you know then,” Foster answered. “Thanks.”
Calvin watched Walter walk away before speaking. “You seem like good people,” Calvin said. He lowered his voice to a near whisper. “Get out of town as soon as you can. You don’t and you won’t ever get to leave until you die. Understand me?”
“Yes. Why are you telling us this?” Foster asked.
“If anybody asks, you didn’t hear it from me.” Calvin spun on his heels and hurried after his boss.
“Strange guy,” Randy muttered.
“Strange people, too,” Foster quipped. “Sounds like we have two days tops to get out of town before we have a bunch of trouble that we don’t want. Let’s do a quick check on the boat and then talk.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
The two men made their way onto the Lauren. Once on board, Foster began actively checking the immediate surroundings. He wasn't very familiar with boats, but he hoped he could see if anything appeared to be out of place. After getting the full tour, Foster was convinced the boat was exactly as Randy had described it. The Lauren was in good operating condition but had almost no supplies remaining on it.
“What do you think?” Randy asked.
“Hold that thought,” Foster said in a low voice. “Let's head over to head back to the truck. I'm not sure if those guys come back again, they'll be as polite.”
“Okay,” Randy said nervously.
The two men walked quietly back to the Suburban.
Randy started to get into the vehicle, but Foster motioned for him to stay put. There was a man about two hundred yards away that appear to be watching them. Foster decided to keep an eye on the man while Randy and he talked.
“We're going to need some food and water for our trip,” Foster said softly.
“Shouldn't need much,” Randy said following Foster's lead on keeping his voice low. “It probably won't take us more than a day to get there.”
“Maybe, but I'd feel better if we had two or even three days' worth of food in case we run into a problem.”
“I guess, but I'm worried about all of the weight we’re adding on the boat.”
“You mentioned that before,” Foster said. “Is it going to be close?”
“Hard to say. I think if everybody brings the bare minimum, we should be okay.”
“With the Disciple guards, I’d say fueling up at the marina is no longer an option.”
“What about a surprise attack?” Randy asked. “Walker, Sams, and you are all experienced shooters.”
“And?”
“And if you hit them fast, we might be able to fuel up quick and scoot before they realize what happened.”
“Take a glance at the fueling area,” Foster said. He saw Randy turning his body toward it and quickly added, “Just with your eyes.”
“Sorry,” Randy muttered. He turned back toward Foster and moved his eyes instead. “Lots of open space between here and there.”
“That’s right. There’s also six Reapers milling around, too. We don’t know if they increase their security at night or not. But that’s probably a moot point.”
“Why?”
“Because if the Disciples don’t see us coming, then the Reapers will probably hear us,” Foster said. “Either one can call for reinforcements.”
“Ah, hell. It looks like we’re going to have to transport fuel here, then.”
“Yeah, looks like. How much fuel are we talking?”
“Good question,” Randy said. He scratched his chin as he thought aloud. “Lauren has an eighty-four gallon tank in her. How far away is this place we’re heading to?”
“Almost four hundred miles by land. No clue what it is by sea.”
“Huh. I’d feel better if I could look at a nautical chart and get the exact distance,” Randy said. “But let’s suppose it’s the same distance by sea. My boat has a three hundred horsepower motor. We’ll burn thirty gallons of fuel every hour.”
“Ouch. You’re talking about needing to stop for fuel every couple of hours.”
“Afraid so.”
“Is there a way that we can extend the amount of fuel that we have?”
“Not really. We don’t have a lot of options,” Randy said. “We could add canisters of fuel on the boat, but those portable jugs can be pretty dangerous if they're not put someplace securely.”
“How fast can your boat go?”
“Well, the boat's capable of going 40 miles per hour. But running at top speed will cause us to burn fuel even quicker.”
“Which means even more fuel stops.”
“And a rougher ride for anyone who suffers from motion sickness.”
“Huh,I hadn’t thought of that,” Foster said. “I honestly don’t know if anyone in our group would be affected.”
“That’s another reason to not run the boat at full throttle,” Randy said. “I think it’s better to average a steady twenty knots instead. That’s not full speed, but it’s still moving at a good clip, and we'll get better fuel efficiency.”
“Tell me about the extra fuel tanks.”
“Portable fuel canisters. They got ones designed for being on boats. But to be honest, they make a lot of boat owners nervous as hell to have on board. Including me.”
“How big of containers are we talking about?”
“Well, they make them in all sizes, but the ones that are probably easiest to find would be six or twelve gallon,” Randy said. “I've seen a few twelve gallon tanks that actually have a set of wheels.”
“So you can roll them like a piece of luggage?”
“Yes, that’s right.”
“So if we're able to add one or two of those 12-gallon tanks, canisters, then that'll extend how much longer we can travel before we need to stop for gas,” Foster said. “It would give us more control about where we stop for more fuel.”
“I suppose, but it’s-”
“We don't have to open it up full speed,” Foster interrupted. “We just need to make consistent progress. We have binoculars, so if we use them to watch the shoreline, we might be able to pick the places to dock where there’s no Reaper activity.”
“Yeah, but those fuel canisters can be pretty dangerous,” Randy said. “If that shit blows up on the boat, then we're all in deep trouble.”
“I understand,” Foster said. “Let me see if I can raise Nick.” He pulled out the walkie-talkie, clicked twice, waited, then clicked it twice more.
A moment later, he heard the same pattern repeated back to him.
“Nick or Sams,” Foster said. “Come in, please?”
“Good timing,”
Walker answered. “We’re just getting ready to leave home plate. What's up?”
Foster noticed Walker was using baseball lingo to help disguise where they might be located. He decided he’d do the same. “We struck out on the marina fuel,” Foster said. “I'll explain later, but I need to add something to your shopping list.”
“Copy that. What are we looking for?”
“Portable fuel canisters,” Foster said. “They need to be rated for nautical use.”
“You want to take fuel on the boat with us?” Walker said. “Isn’t that dangerous?”
“Possibly. But for now we need to use them to fuel the boat.”
“You can’t get fuel at the marina?”
“Negative,” Foster said. “Like I said, I’ll fill you in when we’re back at the clubhouse.”
“Uh-huh,” Walker said. “Can’t wait to hear it.”
“If you can find six or twelve-gallon size ones, that might work best,” Foster said. “I think bigger might be cumbersome to move, unless it has wheels.”
“I’ll see what we can do, but I’m not gonna make any promises.”
“Fair enough. Good hunting, boys.”
“Likewise,” Walker said. “See you later.”
“We use those canisters to carry the fuel onto the boat,” Randy said, “but we’re still going to need eighty-four gallons. That’s gonna be a lot of trips back and forth to a gas station.”
“We don’t have to just get it from the station. We can also drain it from our automobiles,” Foster said. “We’re not planning on taking them with us. And since we’ve been driving them, we know the gas in their tanks is still good.”
“This actually might work,” Randy said. “As long as Murphy’s Law doesn’t rear its ugly head.”
“Then let’s hope Mr. Murphy decides to go on vacation this week.” Foster smiled.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Foster and Randy finally caught a bit of good luck outside of the marina when they found a deserted truck complete with empty boat hitch. There was a dead man slumped over the steering wheel. The body held a revolver loosely in his right hand. There was a visible bite mark on his left forearm. Despite Randy’s reservations about searching the truck, they hit paydirt in the truck’s covered hatchback. Inside there were two empty canisters that Randy claimed were nautical rated. The two men grabbed them and headed back to Gregory’s home. About an hour later, Walker and Sams arrived. The former Rangers had brought back a truckload of scavenged supplies, including two brand new wheelable twelve-gallon nautical fuel tanks.
Foster, Randy, Sams, and Walker had taken turns showering while Gregory and Amanda prepared dinner for the group.
A freshly showered Foster had come downstairs and found a veritable feast of baked manicotti, broiled steaks, and baked spare ribs spread out on the table.
“Damn, I could learn to eat like this all the time,” Foster quipped.
“Don’t get too used to it,” Amanda replied. “This was the last of the food in Gregory’s freezer. Lauren said the boat’s freezer wouldn’t be big enough to store it. We figured it was better than leaving it behind.”
“Gotcha,” Foster said. “Can someone pass the mashed potatoes?”
Gregory offered the heaping bowl. As he transferred it into Foster’s waiting hands, he said, “I heard there was a problem with the marina.”
“Yeah, there was. The fuel and a good portion of the marina is controlled by the Disciples,” Foster said. “We had a bit of a run-in with them.”
“Is it bad?” Gregory asked.
“Well, I wouldn't call it good,” Foster said. “They gave us two days to decide if we're joining or getting out of town.”
“Which sounds like we need to be out of there in a day and a half tops,” Walker answered.
“My thoughts exactly,” Foster said. “Gregory, do you have that location where we'll get fuel?”
“Yeah. There's a neighborhood gas station that some of the locals like to use. It's not in Disciple territory.”
“Is it close?”
“About a mile away,” Gregory said. “It's in a part of town where a good number of people left when things started getting crazy around here.”
“That should work,” Foster said. “Randy and I’ll hit that tomorrow. I could use somebody else to go with us when we get the fuel.”
“I could go,” Lizzy said, “but I'm not sure how much help I'll be in lifting up full fuel canisters.”
Foster started to speak and caught Walker giving him the stink eye. It was obvious what the former Ranger thought about his wife joining Foster and Randy on the future scavenging mission. “Uh, let me think about it and get back to you.”
“I’d just like to get out of the house,” Lizzy said. “You know, do something to help out there, for a change.”
“There’s a lot of things we need to get done here, too,” Sams pointed out. “Staying here to fortify the place, reload ammo, and other critical tasks has been a big help for the entire group.”
“Speaking of ammo, I've got some things to work on,” Walker said. “I got a new idea on something, which might help.”
“Okay, great,” Foster said. “Is there anything you need us to do?”
“I think I’m okay for now, but I’ll let you know if that changes.”
“Nick and I managed to grab a bunch of packaged food. Between what we have here and today’s run, we probably have at least two days’ worth of food for everybody now,” Sams said. “But that still leaves water to worry about. Does the boat have a desalinization unit?”
“Randy?” Lauren asked. “Does the boat have one of those things?”
“Yes, it does.” Randy smiled. “I added one about two months ago. Gives us fresh water while we’re offshore. It probably wouldn’t hurt to grab some additional filters for it if we can.”
“Maybe we can do some scavenging tomorrow and find them. How quickly does the machine work?”
“Not very,” Randy admitted. “I bought it secondhand. We might have to be a bit skimpy with sharing water during the first leg of the trip while it works.”
“Twelve people, including kids, not be able to drink any water for four to eight hours?” Sams thought aloud. “It’s doable but wouldn’t be my first choice.”
“I agree,” Foster said. “Since it’s a secondhand unit, we also need to worry about it crapping out during the journey.”
Randy protested, “It’s not going to-”
“I’m hoping you’re right and it works flawlessly,” Foster said. “But what if it doesn’t?”
“Then we’d have a problem,” Walker admitted. “I’d rather plan for the worst and not need it than get caught with our pants around our ankles.”
“Nicholas,” Lizzy warned.
“Everybody knows what I meant,” Walker said. “Clean drinking water is more important than food.”
“Then we're going to need a bunch of water,” Foster said. “Figure at least two gallons per person. With a dozen of us, we're looking at twenty-five gallons of water for the trip.”
“That's about what my boat’s water tank will hold,” Randy said. “But I'm worried about the amount of weight we’re going to put on Lauren. If you add fifty or one hundred pounds of water, the twelve of us, and all of our stuff, we might be sitting low in the water.”
“So?” Randall said. “What’s the big deal?”
“If there's debris in the water, we’ll be more vulnerable to damaging the hull or running aground when we go to dock.”
“You worry too much,” Randall said. “We’ll be fine. Please pass the steak before Sams eats all of them.”
“What?” Sams protested. “It’s incredible.”
“It is quite good,” Foster admitted.
“It’s not just good,” Sams continued. “It’s awesome. Amanda, you’re gonna make a great wife for some lucky guy someday.”
“I’m sure I will,” Amanda smirked, “but I didn’t make the steak.”
&nb
sp; “Wait, what?” Sams stammered. “Then who did?”
Gregory raised his hand slowly, and the room erupted in laughter.
“Ah, hell.” Sams groaned. “Sorry, man.”
“So now that we’ve gotten the Derrick putting his foot in his mouth part of our program out of the way,” Foster grinned, “let’s talk about what we need to get done tomorrow.”
“What do you need us to do?” Gregory said.
“We need bottled water,” Foster said. “Any additional packaged food can’t hurt. If we don’t use it on the boat, then we can bring it with us onto Hope Island. Gregory, maybe Amanda and you can go look for supplies in one of the places in town that you think are safest. Randall and Lauren, maybe you can get the kids to help you start packing. Focus on just the bare necessities for your families.”
A chorus of yeses sounded out briefly. Foster took a deep breath and continued speaking. “Randy and I will go out for fuel. Nick and Sams. Maybe you guys can go out and get additional supplies. If you see any additional fuel canisters, that might be good.”
“What about me?” Lizzy said. “You gave tasks for everyone but me.”
Foster glanced at Walker quickly and saw the man was staring even more intently at him.
“What about staying on guard duty?” Foster suggested. “With most of us out of the house tomorrow, we could really use somebody to stay on their toes in case any Reapers show up.”
“We’ll see about that,” Lizzy said. She turned and stalked out of the room.
“Maybe I should go talk to her,” Walker said softly.
“I think that would be best,” Foster said. He shot his friend a look that suggested he was at fault for Lizzy being so upset.
“Right.” Walker sighed. He turned and walked slowly after his wife.
“Randy, can you make a list of what type of filters you need for the salinization unit?”
“Sure.”
“Great. And if you think of anything else we really need for the boat, please write that down. It will help the rest of us with trying to track those things down.”
Wretched Retribution Page 15
