Bittersweet Homecoming; Surviving the Black--Book 3 of a Post-Apocalyptical Series

by Zack Finley

  Tom's examination of Razor was quick, he then shifted to murmur to Mike. Mike had his rifle aimed at someone on the ground in front of him. Mike's entire body was tense, and his rifle never wavered from its aim.

  "Razor is gone. Allie, come get this prisoner," Tom radioed.

  A sense of rage washed through my body, and I didn't understand why Mike hadn't drilled the person who shot Razor. Why was Tom trying to save the man?

  I'd get to that later, now we prepared for a reaction from the larger group within the compound. Someone would come to investigate the blast, and I wanted my people safe when that happened. I would kill Razor's killer when the rest of my people were safe.

  John and one of Andy's men led the wounded toward the gate. A man and a woman carried Ben's stretcher. Someone assisted another wounded man whom I assumed was Jamie.

  Sgt. Grady and the rest of his group formed up with my team. Grady crouched at my side. "Where do you need us?"

  "Pair off your guys with mine. We have night vision and radios. Your people can back us up and watch our backs."

  "Team up with our new people to form fire teams," I radioed. "Then we will withdraw toward the ORP by team. Joel and Tom watch those trailers. Mike and Allie lead the withdrawal."

  I knew without asking that Mike would bring Razor.

  We watched and waited for 15 minutes, and still, no one investigated the shot. In Breckinridge Valley, the entire population would have acted. Some to take the kids to safety and the rest to defend our valley.

  After days of having inmates shoot into the compound, maybe gunshots during the night was now normal for these people. The 15 minutes was enough to trim the edge from my rage. I no longer ached to kill the man who killed Razor. If Mike and Tom didn't kill him, they must have a reason. All I wanted now was to get everyone out without further casualties.

  "Tom, withdraw," I radioed. "If it is still clear, Joel follow him in five. I'll follow on in five after that. Mike and Allie as soon as you have a full truck, take them to the base, we'll be right behind you. I want to be off Memphis at dawn."

  ◆◆◆

  Chapter 7

  Allie and Mike drove away carrying our wounded, Razor's body, and the first group of those we rescued before Sgt. Grady and I reached the ORP.

  Sgt. Grady took immediate charge of his group, and we had the second truck ready to leave in rapid order. Joel, Tom, and I rode ninjas while Grady's group followed in the truck. By prior agreement, we bypassed Clyde's moonshine operation. I wanted to be gone and avoid any further entanglement with groups in Helena. They already cost me more than I cared to count.

  When we arrived at St. Francis Point, someone had already placed Razor's body on a pyre of freshly cut logs. I really wanted to bury Razor in the Breckinridge cemetery, but it just wasn't practical. We'd light it before leaving.

  Grady's team didn't stand around, they offloaded the truck and shifted to help Kurt unload the dried corn from the pickup we left behind, one container at a time. I didn't know where they were storing the corn on the Cumberland but saw no reason to interfere.

  This gave me a chance to find Jules. Sgt. Grady told me Jules led the group who brought the wounded back with John.

  I walked up the gangplank placed to facilitate loading the corn and found Allie directing traffic. Someone had cleared out a bunk room and blocked half way up the doorway.

  "Lois and Juanita have the kids bunked in the lounge area. They put the mattresses from those bunks," Allie said, pointing to the corn room, "in the lounge. With the couches and chairs, the kids were thrilled. It keeps them all safely together."

  "I think that is good. Where are Craig and Ben?"

  "Craig is bunking with Mike. Tom made him get in his bunk after being up all day and night. Tom is now bunking with Ben. Kurt is now bunking in the lounge with the kids to help keep them safe. Juanita and Lois are in the galley, making a lot of noise trying to turn the corn into something edible. All I know is it is very noisy in there. They are also fixing Kurt's catfish."

  "Catfish?"

  "Yeah, he put out several lines and caught a pair of large cats. Juanita took charge of them right away. He used a few handfuls of corn to bait the spot. Must have worked 'cause these are the first he caught all week."

  "I'm looking for Jules."

  "Is he your astrophysicist?"

  "Yes, do you know where he is?"

  "Last I saw he was helping the guy with the wounded shoulder in the galley," Allie said.

  I hurried into the galley and spotted Jules right away. He was older than the last time I saw him, but he was still tall and thin. Maybe thinner, but he always had more of Carmine's build than Roger's. As kids, Andy was the big bruiser while Jules was the artful dodger.

  He spotted me immediately, hopping up and hugging me, hard. I felt tears well up but forced them down. "God Jules, I figured you were either burning up in California or the government stuffed you in one of those undisclosed bunkers," I said, giving him a hard squeeze before releasing him.

  "I nearly ended up in one of those bunkers, but I gave them the slip in the confusion after the president's speech. I planned to fly all the way to Oneida," Jules said, "But I hit something landing on the Flagstaff runway, and my plane was toast. I should have stolen another plane, but it was too early in the crisis, and I hadn't acclimated to the new reality yet."

  "How did you meet up with Andy?"

  "I knew his bugout location. While for some reason I wouldn't steal a plane, I didn't hesitate to steal a truck. There were a bunch parked at the Flagstaff airport. I siphoned enough gas to fill one up, loaded up the supplies I kept in my plane and rented hanger, and left to find Andy."

  Jules paused, looking at the bustle of activity around us. "We can talk later; I'll feel a whole lot better when we leave this area for good."

  My pleasure at seeing Jules and hearing his voice crashed as reality returned. There was a lot to do to get out of here. "You are right. Has Tom seen your friend?" I asked, pointing to the man with the bandaged shoulder now asleep on the bench.

  "I don't know, Jamie is doing okay. He is in no immediate danger, but the bullet is still in his shoulder, and it hurts like hell. Your medic is looking after Ben, last I heard."

  "We will talk later; river travel is mostly boring. I want to get on the river as soon as possible, it is great to see you. We will get everyone home in a few days. Our biggest challenge is Memphis. Take a shower and relax for a bit."

  "A shower?"

  "Yep, just don't use all the hot water."

  "Oh man, what I wouldn't do for a shower."

  "The locker room is next to the restroom," I pulled Jules up and pointed him in the right direction. "We even have a laundry. Bunk with me and you can even wear my clean underwear." I dragged him to my mini-cabin and showed him my duffle. "I have to go, but you need a shower before we share a cabin."

  I left Jules to it and slipped into Tom's cabin to see how Ben was doing. Tom was sitting on his bunk with Ben tucked under the covers in the other one. "How is he?"

  "More asleep than unconscious. Waking him will cause more harm than letting him sleep. Ben will be pissed to miss Razor's sendoff, but his brain needs the rest," Tom eased to his feet.

  Tom's eyes were red and bloodshot. His shoulders slumped, and he moved like his arms and legs weighed too much to carry. I wrapped one arm around his shoulder, "Buddy, take a break. Lie down on your bunk. We'll come get you when it’s time for the sendoff. There are a lot more people now to help."

  Demonstrating how exhausted mentally and physically Tom was, he sat heavily on the bunk. "Okay," he said, leaning back and closing his eyes.

  I left him there and went to find Sgt. Grady. Grady stood beside Allie, helping her direct traffic. I wanted all our most vulnerable chicks on the Cumberland with enough shooters to protect them. The Jersey Girl would carry the overflow. We had enough bunks for everyone, especially with Juanita, Lois, Kurt, and the kids camping in the lounge.

  "Once
we have the corn loaded, I think we are ready to go," Grady said.

  "We need to secure the patrol boat alongside and release our shore ties," Allie said. "Then we'll see if the Cumberland's engines will be enough to pull us out. Joel really doesn't want to start up the Jersey Girl engines if we can help it."

  "Sgt. Grady, do you have any mechanics in your crew?" I asked.

  "Jimmy knows his way around an engine, but not sure he is a trained mechanic."

  "Ask him to join Joel in the engine room. Joel needs backup with Razor gone, Jimmy will need to get some training."

  Grady called a young man over and introduced Allie and me to Jimmy. His hair was dark in this light, he was beanpole thin and had a recent scar across his left cheek.

  "I'll go introduce him to Joel," Allie said, pulling Jimmy toward the engine room entrance.

  "My name is Rufus," Sgt. Grady said, holding out his hand.

  "I'm Jeremy," I said, shaking hands. "Once we are afloat, I don't expect any problems until we get near Memphis. My guys are whipped. I need a shooter to help Allie in the wheelhouse and another shooter to walk the decks while everyone else rests. We'll get everyone up before we get to Memphis. We ran into a crew in Memphis on our way here that claim the waterfront. I'm hoping they will leave us alone this time, but we can't count on it. I'm going to need your shooters to defend us."

  "You can count on my people. They are solid under fire. A few aren't skilled marksmen; we just couldn't spare the ammo for training. I have eight who hit what they aim for, the others won't run but miss occasionally."

  "We picked up plenty of ammo for your rifles," I said. "Feel free to use it to keep the enemy's heads down. We want to get past Memphis not turn it into a bloody war."

  Kurt ran up to us. "Jeremy the corn is loaded. We can leave when you are ready."

  "Siphon some gas out of the pickups," I said. "I want to make sure Razor's body is cremated."

  "I brought out the last of his Molotov mix, too," Kurt said. "It seems fitting to use it."

  "Good plan." I touched Kurt on the arm. "Thank you for helping out. This is tough for everyone."

  "He was my friend," Kurt said, dipping his head, then taking a deep breath. "I'll get the siphoning equipment, and we'll be ready in a few minutes.

  I turned to Grady, "Get all of your group on board. We'll just be a few minutes." I went to get Joel and Allie.

  The engines rumbled to life as I neared the engine room door. Knowing they'd never hear me, I walked down the steps into Joel's world.

  The lights down here were red, and it was noisy. I touched Allie's arm and pointed to my watch, flashing five fingers. She nodded and walked toward Joel. I climbed wearily back up the stairs, leaving the throbbing dungeon behind.

  I walked into Tom's room and shook him awake. I knew he would not want to miss Razor's sendoff, no matter how tired he was. He was in the same exhausted position I left him in half an hour before. Tom sat up slowly, moved over to check Ben. I left him there and steeled myself to see Mike.

  Both Mike and Craig were sitting up, ready to go. I'd expected Craig to sit this one out, but Craig had other ideas. Seeing no reason to make this more difficult than it was, I just said, "Five minutes," and left.

  Allie joined me as I walked down the gangplank toward Razor's byre. Kurt was already there with two gas cans beside him. Allie went to Kurt immediately and hugged him, murmuring something to him. Mike and Craig made painful progress down the gangplank. Craig had one arm over Mike's shoulder and a crutch under the other. Neither Craig nor Mike looked like they would welcome any assistance. Joel and Tom trailed behind them.

  Kurt handed me Razor's lighter, while Tom and Joel poured fuel over Razor's body and byre. We stood upwind.

  "Go with God, Razor. We'll see you in Valhalla," I choked, then lit the pyre.

  It burst into flame with a whoosh, turning night into daytime.

  I turned to my remaining crew and didn't know what to say. I just nodded and trudged toward the gangplank, spent.

  As I neared the boats, I saw Grady's crew, minus the kids standing tall and silent to show their respect for my fallen friend and comrade. For some reason, their homage lightened my burden just a little.

  I went to my cabin, stripped to my underwear, and crawled into my bunk. Sleep caught me by surprise.

  Someone nudged my foot, bringing me fully awake. Allie pointed up toward the wheelhouse and slipped out of the cabin. I pulled on pants and shirt, grabbed my plate carrier, rifle, and helmet. I eased out of my cabin, careful not to awaken Jules.

  After hitting the head, I joined Allie in the wheelhouse.

  "We are at least two hours from the main Memphis harbor, and I can't keep my eyes open," she said. "I sent Kurt to bed just after we got underway. Joel is asleep, and Jimmy is monitoring the engines."

  She motioned me toward the helm chair. "Angus is your relief. He is on a walkabout around the boat but will be back soon. He has never steered a boat before and can't read a chart."

  I settled in the helm chair, the red lights providing plenty of light to see the paper chart in front of me. "I have the helm, Allie. Get some sleep. Someone will wake you when we get to Memphis."

  "Thanks, Jeremy." Within seconds she was gone, and I was alone in the cabin. It was nearly 05:00. Sunrise was about 06:30. We had either left later than I thought or we weren't going 10 miles an hour anymore. I should have asked Allie.

  According to the penciled X, Allie left me on the chart, we were near mile marker 695, another 30 miles to the entrance of the Memphis harbor. Three hours if we were going the old speed and maybe four hours at our actual speed.

  So much for sneaking through that area in darkness.

  The sky was still clear and a thin sliver of moon glittered on the roiling surface of the river. I could see both river shores with my binoculars, and hoped I was far from any finger dikes. If we were near the place Allie marked, there were no obstructions on the starboard side of the river, but I'd feel much better once I spotted a landmark to confirm.

  There was some large structure on the right side. If my location was correct, it might be a casino. I vaguely remembered scenery from the high-speed trip through this area only days ago. I just didn't remember enough to determine what the structure was, especially in the dark.

  The depth finder remained steady at 40- to 45-feet, even after I edged the Cumberland farther from the shore. I liked having that much water beneath our propellers. Navigating by monitoring the depth was a lot like driving forward using my rear-view mirror. It only told me what was beneath our props right now. Not much solace if we passed over a sunken barge or one of those damned finger dikes.

  I kept a sharp eye with my binoculars first toward one shore and then the next. We were either in the channel or nearly aground, I doubted there was much distance between those two options, especially if I missed a zig or a zag in the river.

  A surge of relief washed over me as I spotted the bright green Finley Bar light some distance ahead on my left side. The chart confirmed its location, and I finally took a deep breath to relax. Knowing where I was on this dark muddy river, reassured me, a lot.

  It also meant we had 23 more miles to go. Our speed was more like 8 miles-per-hour, not 10. Whether caused by the drag of the Jersey Girl or just the strength of the current, we couldn't help it without pushing the engines above cruising speed. I didn't want to risk overheating the engines or inducing some other stress-related failure.

  A man I didn't know came in the wheelhouse. "Hi, I'm Jeremy. Are you Angus?"

  "Yeah, I'm Angus. I take it Allie went to get some rest?"

  "She is taking a nap. Who do we have on deck patrol?"

  "Joyce is walking the decks, not much going on, though."

  "Why don't you go get her. I'm sure she is freezing if she's been out all night," I said. "Not much will go on for at least three more hours. If someone walks the deck every 15 minutes or so to check on the small boats and ties, we'll be fine."

&nbs
p; Angus looked doubtful, but after a few minutes standing in the wheelhouse behind me, he left me alone in the red glow of the night lights. I aimed the boat straight at the Finley Bar light, to avoid the finger dikes on both sides of the river channel. My charts showed the river channel shifting from the Mississippi bank back to the Arkansas bank, and I wanted to remain in deep water.

  Joyce and Angus came in together, and I stood to greet them. The night lights masked things like hair, eyes, and complexion, so I probably wouldn’t recognize them later. In this light, the first thing I noticed was their attire. Both wore heavy coats. Joyce's coat dwarfed her, but Angus's coat didn't close across his barrel chest. A series of wires kept his coat from flapping open. Angus was a big man who crowded the wheelhouse just by being here. Joyce was a lot smaller, but it was hard to assess her actual height with Angus hulking over her.