by Zack Finley
"Me, Andy, Joe, Juanita, John, Lois, Dwayne, and Jamie, for sure," Jules said. "I'll ask Juanita on the side, to get her input. What are you thinking about?"
"I can't afford to bring bad blood into the Valley," I said. "We also have a lot of assets with us on this trip. I don't want to lose them."
"Sorry Jeremy, Andy and I were so focused on getting to the Valley, I didn't even consider someone in our group might have a different motivation. I just wanted to get somewhere safe. Buddy, it is hell out there."
"Keep your weapons with you. If something goes down, keep the kids safe," I said, now a lot more worried than I was a few minutes before.
Craig listened the whole time, not interrupting. "I'll stay here in the galley," Craig said. "I have those same vibes. Grady doesn’t act like any sergeant I’ve ever met. His main five guys are meat eaters. They are the only ones not excited to be going somewhere safe. Everyone else can’t stop talking about it. Grady's core group share nothing."
"Where are they now?" I asked.
"Grady took his bunch over to the Jersey Girl to shower. I'm worried about Joel since he’s with that Jimmy guy," Craig said. "They are down in the Cumberland engine room."
"Sounds like I'd better alert the team," I said.
"Hey, guys has anyone got any toothpaste. I'm out," I radioed. We had a handful of secret code words. Toothpaste was one I never expected to use. It meant 'allies can't be trusted.'
A chorus of "sorry, none here," came over the radio. I was most relieved when Joel checked in.
"Jules, we don't know what Grady is up to if anything. But he can't even get a hint that we consider him a possible threat. We have too many vulnerable hostages, and he has more people than I do," I said. "John worships him, and the others in your group have fought beside him. Most will support him instead of a group of strangers, especially without any proof. Right now, all I have is my gut, vibes, and suspicions."
"I can't even tell Andy," Jules said. "He hasn't been thinking straight since we lost Carol. I'm afraid he would confront Grady and blow it all to hell."
"My team is on alert, let Craig know if you learn anything," I said, getting up, planning to confer with Tom and Ben first.
My group had a mixed reaction, everything from tossing people overboard to wait and see. The least confrontational plan involved cutting the Jersey Girl loose in the night while Grady and most of his team were aboard. They could either figure out how to start her engines, or they could go aground. I worried if they got her engines going, they might come after us.
Ben insisted on steering the boat. That would leave Tom, Allie, Mike, and I to roam and observe. Ben couldn't handle a rifle or a shotgun, so Tom gave him a 1911 pistol we scrounged from somewhere. He only had two magazines for it. Ben reluctantly put on Razor's plate carrier, radio, and NVGs. Ben planned to swap with John whenever they got together.
Kurt would be Ben's backup, as soon as Tom briefed him. Tom also intended on wrapping Craig's thigh, just in case Craig had to move somewhere quickly. Tom wasn't planning to remove the stitches for two more days, but with some added support he thought Craig could be a lot more mobile, even now. It wouldn't hurt if Grady underestimated Craig's mobility.
Allie went to the engine room to brief Joel. She and Kurt were our aces. It was clear Grady discounted them as shooters. Grady thought she was just our boat driver and Kurt, just a kid we collected along the way. I saw no reason to provide Grady with any further insight.
So much for my plan to rest and relax on our ride north.
◆◆◆
Chapter 9
Today's lunch was too early to act. Jules wanted more time to confirm allies and scope out the situation. I agreed although my instincts urged me to act.
Despite the underlying tension in our ranks, lunch was quite enjoyable, if bland. Everyone got a small portion of flaked catfish with their thickened corn mush.
Most everyone had showered and some wrapped up in blankets while waiting for clothes to finish washing. My whole team shared their soap and shampoo with the refugees. Many of us loaned underwear and other clothing as well.
One of the ladies was turning a Coast Guard heavy woolen blanket into coats for several of the kids. She had a heavy-duty needle and some monofilament fishing line for her thread. A man working with her made buttons from an assortment of hard plastic using a multitool. The children sat quietly, watching everything but saying nothing. The only children acting normally were the two youngest.
I finally got to meet Andy's youngest, a little pixie named Kathleen. While she lacked the cherubic cheeks common for a three-year-old, she wasn't gaunt or ultra-thin either. In contrast, many of the adults resembled concentration camp victims. Their overall condition prompted Tom and Lois to host a medical clinic. Many of the adults coughed incessantly. Some had discolored bandages. Most suffered from dysentery and dehydration.
Tom and Lois set up the clinic in Allie's cabin and over the next few hours saw nearly everyone. Tom came prepared to treat malnourished adults and children. Our Valley physician, Dr. Jerrod, made sure he brought plenty of vitamins and medications not normally needed to support combat soldiers.
While the clinic was primarily charitable, Tom kept his eyes and ears open for intel on Grady and his men. He wasn't the only one, my entire team circulated amongst our new people behaving like goodwill ambassadors.
The exceptions were Ben, Allie, and Joel.
Ben and Allie remained vigilant in the Cumberland wheelhouse. Besides safely navigating the river, they would maintain our control of the Cumberland. We were no longer interested in recruiting members of Andy's crew to help in the wheelhouse. Grady still sent one of his crew to assist them. Ben assigned the new man to monitor the deck.
Joel insisted he did not need support, maintaining that Jimmy, his new engine room partner, posed no threat. While I respected Joel's judgment, I asked Joel to rest during the day and plan to be on duty tonight. As insurance, I asked Kurt to drop by the engine room several times before nightfall to see if Jimmy needed something. Or was behaving suspiciously.
Craig had a front row seat in the galley. Mike and I were the rovers. We wandered around, walked the interior corridors, and poked our heads in as many places we could. We helped people settle in, find the various facilities, and made ourselves helpful.
Almost everyone was bunking on the Cumberland. While the Jersey Girl was bigger, it only carried a normal crew of six or seven. The Cumberland needed a crew of more than 20 to tend the navigation buoys. That was part of what drew me to it originally.
I had hoped Grady and his hard-core group would settle on the Jersey Girl. While his group staked out the Jersey Girl for showers and to wash clothes, Grady bunked everyone on the Cumberland. And so did the rest of Andy's crew. Everyone felt safer in a group. This herd instinct made separating the wolves from the sheep much harder.
Even after isolating Grady's hardcore supporters, someone else in the group might lash out with dire consequences. Too many guns on what was starting to feel like a very small towboat.
Grady remained in the galley and had two of his hardcore group on duty during the day, one helping Ben and Allie while the other roamed. Three of his group retired to the two cabins claimed by Grady and his men.
Lukewarm showers, clean clothes, and a full belly lifted the spirits of all the refugees. Everywhere I went, people thanked me for the rescue, marveling at the facilities on the Cumberland. Most wanted to know about Breckinridge Valley. I hedged my comments, telling them the Valley was secure but we rationed food to last until the fall harvests.
I knocked and entered every sleep compartment, including the two Grady's bunch claimed. Those were the only berths where leveled rifles greeted my entrance.
"Hey, my name is Jeremy. I'm just making sure everyone is situated," I said, lifting my empty hands up. "Our medic and Lois are holding a clinic in the captain's cabin. He has some miracle pills if you have the trots. Doc wanted me to remind everyone to drink ple
nty of boiled water. He said everyone he has seen so far is dehydrated to some extent."
"Uh, thanks," said one of the men, lowering his weapon. The man on the other bunk did the same. "We'll remember to do that when we get up later."
"You found the showers and laundry facilities?" I asked.
"Yeah, I can't even remember the last time I showered. Much appreciated," he said. His buddy, on the other bed, nodded.
"See you guys at 16:00 for supper," I said, backing out of the door and shutting it, to their murmurs of thanks. I heard the door across the hall click shut behind me.
Acting as if I didn't know this, I knocked on the door and entered.
The man sat up in the left side bunk with no sign of his rifle.
"Hi, I'm Jeremy and just checking how everyone is doing," I said.
"Doing well," he said. "Just trying to sleep before going on shift tonight."
"Glad to hear it. Sorry to wake you," I said, backing out of his room.
Most of the other compartments had their doors open with people darting in and out. Some wrapped blankets around themselves like togas and others wore sheets. Everyone was waiting either on their turn in the showers or for the driers to finish. Some already attended the medical clinic while others were awaiting their turns.
They peppered me with questions. "How big is the Valley? Is it true you have horses? What will we do? What is the food situation? How many people? What is the weather like? Do you have enough water? Are there any kids? Are there any women? Will we be safe?"
I answered most of their questions. These seemed like decent people, hardworking, and willing to help one another. I thought they would fit in well in the Valley. Once we figured out what had my gut worried about Grady and his core group.
I asked each of them where they were from and what happened to bring them on this journey. Some clammed up but most shared freely. Most came from Texas fleeing from the Dallas-Ft. Worth suburbs.
When I asked how they got around blocked sections of road, they were happy to share. They siphoned the gas out of whatever vehicle they were using and carried the gas to the other side of the roadblock. After gassing up vehicles at the other end of the roadblock, they loaded everything into them and continued their journey.
They expected to cross the Mississippi River using this technique, but the inmates ambushed them instead, forcing them to abandon their vehicles and supplies.
They confirmed nearly every river crossing and many communities had roadblocks, some planned and some due to abandoned cars or crashes. The refugees traveled by day, bypassing most towns and villages. They felt the group's numbers gave them substantial protection on the road, until Helena. Everyone I spoke with joined the caravan after Grady's group. They held Grady and his men in high esteem, recounting numerous incidents where the men protected those in the group.
Most attacks on the group came at night. They usually traveled as far as they could during the daytime, then made camp. Sometimes they slept in barns, sometimes commercial buildings, but seldom out in the open. Two of Grady's men scouted ahead of the main caravan, helping them avoid roadblocks and locating the overnight campsite.
The group boiled their water whenever possible but disinfecting enough water for more than 20 people was tough. They used iodine until they ran out and then bleach until it ran out. After that if the water looked clean, they drank it, if not they boiled it.
I suspected that not everyone was diligent about how clean the water looked. I could not criticize their choices, especially when they clearly prioritized protecting the children. This protection extended to ensuring the kids had the clean water and a larger food ration.
Tom told me the kids were in surprisingly good health, thin but not emaciated. He couldn't say the same about the adults.
I made it to every cabin, speaking to all I encountered.
I talked with those standing in line for showers and those doing the laundry. The driers were the bottleneck. Those in the laundry room squeezed as much water from the washed clothing they could. Some of the heavier clothes hung from improvised clotheslines on the back deck of the Cumberland, flapping in the breeze.
It took me almost three hours to return to the galley, where the kids were modeling their new coats and over pants. Our seamstress was now piecing tiny mittens together from the leftover scraps of the woolen blankets.
Since no one wanted to stay on the Jersey Girl, I suggested they could salvage any bedding or material from it. The few not draped in sheets or blankets, including Grady, hopped up to investigate. I went with them. I didn't say anything when the whole crew, except Grady, left their rifles in the galley. Craig just shrugged, when I looked at him.
Using the second deck gangplank was the safest way to cross over to the Jersey Girl. Allie spotted us crossing and joined in for the treasure hunt.
Joe, John's father, was in the Jersey Girl's laundry room, waiting for clothes to dry. We arranged to bring any dirty clothes his way with the Cumberland's laundry still overwhelmed. The Cumberland had two washers and driers and the Jersey Girl only one of each.
The group spread out in search of anything worth salvaging. We arranged for everyone to drop off dirty clothes in the laundry with Joe, but to leave everything else at the gangplank.
Two men carried a mattress over to the Cumberland. I suspected it was for the kids to sleep on in the lounge. Stacks of blankets and clean clothes appeared on deck, along with a box filled with soap, toothpaste, shampoo, and deodorant. I stacked the two first aid kits there, one from the engine room and one from next to the galley.
One man decided the stove was going to waste and put on several pots of water to boil, promising to keep boiling, if people would bring him containers to fill. In the kitchen pantry, he found several empty gallon water containers, rinsed them with bleach water, and promised to fill them.
He sent a box of supplies from the Jersey Girl pantry for Juanita to use. The box of Kosher salt and a large jug of hot sauce were real finds.
As tempting as the toolboxes in the engine room were, I couldn't see hauling them back to the Valley, so I left them where I found them.
By the time most of us returned to the Cumberland, Joe had a pile of clothes to wash, and the man in the kitchen was decanting the water into a variety of containers resting on the counters and galley table.
Those from the Jersey Girl expedition urged those still in line for showers on the Cumberland to wash up in the Jersey Girl. Most did.
We piled all the clean clothing retrieved from the Jersey Girl in the Cumberland's galley for distribution. Joanne, the seamstress, passed the clothing out to different members of Andy's crew. No one questioned her decisions, and she seemed to know the state of everyone's clothing. She stacked some up for absent members. Three sets of mechanic's coveralls were particularly prized. Grady briefed Joanne on the clothing Joe was now washing.
Joanne took keeping her community clothed as her main responsibility, and her community respected her efforts. The man who made buttons for her earlier was her constant shadow, bringing her whatever materials she needed to do her work.
Joanne would fit in well in the Breckinridge Valley community. She was now transforming pillowcases from the Jersey Girl into pairs of boxers. The lack of elastic didn't slow her down, she sewed short cords into the waists.
The atmosphere in the galley was festive. Juanita was pleased that someone was boiling water on the Jersey Girl and now encouraged everyone to drink their fill from her water supplies. The discovery of the salt and hot sauce put her over the moon. It took hours at a simmer for the corn to soften sufficiently to eat. Juanita was attempting to make enough corn mush to feed the group on the journey from Hickman to the Valley. She was compressing the mush into bricks and had cleaned out the refrigerator to store them in. A little salt would make the stuff a lot more palatable.
My team still had some freeze-dried foods, but not enough to feed a crowd this size. I had everyone leave most of their stashes with
Juanita so she could supplement the corn mush on our return to the valley, even if everyone only got a spoonful of the tastier fare.
We also brought out two of our water filters and set them up to supply water for anyone who wanted a drink. Even with the Jersey Girl boiling operation, generating enough clean water for this many people proved difficult.
During my rounds, I consulted with my team. I wasn't the only one suspicious of Grady and his men. The loss of Razor and two wounded teammates made us vulnerable to an ambush. With so many civilians as potential hostages, it wouldn't take much for Grady to take over the boat and toss my team overboard.
While Grady might have a benign reason to keep secrets from Jules and Andy, I just couldn't come up with one. The only way we could find out without risking my people or civilians was a pre-emptive strike. And the sooner, the better.
