Tribulation

by Scott B. Williams

  “I didn’t shoot nobody. I swear!”

  “If you didn’t, who did? How many are up there?”

  “It’s just two of us, me and my buddy, Maurice. We were working for the old man, helping him finish up his boat. He died yesterday though. He had a heart attack or something. We didn’t do nothing to him. I swear. Maurice freaked out when he saw that police boat and thought they’d accuse him of doing something to the old man. He just fired those shots to try and scare y’all away.”

  Eric had all the information he needed. There had been at least two shooters in the volley that killed Vic and this man had a scoped rifle that was capable of making that shot. Whether it was his bullet or his partner’s didn’t matter. He was a participant.

  Before he had a chance to react, Eric slammed his head into the side of the engine block again, this time with as much force as he could muster. Then he picked up the heavy 12-inch crescent wrench the man had been using and finished the job with a decisive final blow, the knife being far too messy in the confines of the engine room that he knew he would have to deal with cleaning up later. He left the flashlight burning where it was and exited the hatch, leaving it open and the dead man’s rifle untouched. He had just retrieved his M4 and was about to slip back over the side when he heard a shout from the woods.

  “Henry! What’s up bra? You ain’t got that starter changed yet?”

  Eric crept forward on the side deck, working his way quietly to the bow. If the second guy came to him, that would be all the better.

  “HEY HENRY!”

  Eric crawled forward and peeked around the front of the cabin trunk. A very impatient-looking man was storming down the path to the dock, a short carbine in his hands that Eric recognized as a Ruger Mini 14 or Mini 30. He would be on board in a second, but Eric wanted to take him before he stepped off the dock. If the first man had been lying and there were others, they would hear the shot, but there would only be one fired and if anyone came to investigate, Eric would be ready.

  The man was focused on the aft part of the boat, where he expected to find his partner below deck in the engine room. He didn’t notice Eric’s head and rifle barrel at the forward corner of the cabin trunk, and when he bent to grab the dock line to pull the boat over, he never knew what hit him when Eric squeezed the trigger. The last sound the man made was a splash as he fell off the dock, dead before he was even wet. Eric remained in position, waiting several more minutes, watching the path, and listening for activity in the direction of the house. Although he doubted there were more than these two, he left the boat over the starboard side, the same way he’d boarded it. Once he was back in the woods, he made a wide circle to the north and approached the house from an angle that gave him a view of the front door and gravel lane leading out. There were two vehicles parked outside, one of them a Ford sedan pulled up under the carport, and the other a dented and rusty pickup parked sideways behind it. Eric figured the two shooters had arrived in the truck, and that the car belonged to Mr. Joubert and his wife. The woods sounds had returned to normal once again and there were no signs of life in the house. Eric waited where he was, scanning the trees on either side of the lane until several minutes later he saw someone slinking through the trees in his direction. He waited until Keith was almost to the opposite edge of the yard before signaling that he was there with one of the distinct bird whistles that he knew Keith would recognize from their boyhood games of cowboys and Indians.

  Ten

  ERIC AND KEITH WORKED their way around the perimeter of the yard until they were close enough to talk in low whispers.

  “I didn’t see a thing along the road.” Keith said, when Eric told him about the two he’d already taken out. “I wish I’d been here instead, so I could have made those bastards pay for what they did to Vic myself.”

  “I understand how you feel, Keith. They did pay though. I don’t think there are any more of them. I haven’t seen or heard anything from the house.”

  “Let’s go ahead and clear it then. We need to see if there’s any sign of Curt and his wife. I’ve got a bad feeling about what we’ll find though. From what you said, I think they were here because they wanted that boat.”

  Eric let his brother cross the yard first, while he covered him from the woods until Keith reached the front porch and flattened himself against the wall, adjacent to the doorway. Then Eric moved in and breached the door with a powerful front kick. As soon as he was in, he could see that the house had been thoroughly ransacked, especially the kitchen, where the intruders had piled all the food items they could find onto the dining table. Keith found Curt and his wife on the floor of the master bedroom. Both had been shot in the head, most likely the afternoon or evening before.

  “Murdered in cold blood! They didn’t have to kill them to clean out their house and take their boat, but they did it anyway. Damn, this is getting old, Eric! I want to see those bodies. I remember where I saw that old truck now. I think I may know who at least one of them is.”

  “So, you think they might have been locals?”

  “Yep. If it’s the guy that used to drive that truck, he’s been in and out of jail a few times over the years for drugs, burglary, assault, and I don’t know what else. I haven’t seen him around in a long time, but that doesn’t mean he hasn’t been lying low somewhere.”

  “Maybe that’s why they opened fire on us then as soon as they saw your boat; thought it was the law already onto them for what they’d done here.”

  “Yeah, you could be right. At first I thought it might have been the rest of that little gang that tried to kill you, since they’re cop-haters and all, but they’re probably long gone from the parish by now. Scumbags like this guy have been here all along, probably robbing and killing no telling how many people since we haven’t been able to effectively enforce the law anymore.”

  When they reached the dock, Eric jumped in and grabbed the body that was floating nearby, rolling it over so Keith could see what was left of the man’s face. Eric’s rifle bullet had seriously disfigured it, but Keith recognized the perpetrator by his thick beard and neck tattoos.

  “That’s him all right. His name was Maurice Lawson. I wish I’d had the pleasure of pulling the trigger, but at least the job is done.”

  Keith said he’d never seen the other man when Eric took him below to the cramped space of the Gulf Traveler’s engine room. The two of them hauled the body up out of the hatch and then put it over the side. Eric had heard the second man yelling something about a starter when he came looking for his partner, and upon closer inspection down below, he saw that what the man had indeed been doing was installing a starter.

  “Curt must have had trouble with it. He probably rewound it himself in his shop there at the house. He was a real handyman and did all his own work on the boat. He was probably thinking about trying to get out of here with his wife, but it looks like he waited too long. It’s really unfortunate.”

  “And we were a day too late to save him or to try and work out a deal with him for the use of his boat,” Eric said. “Now what?”

  “I didn’t know him all that well myself, but knowing what Vic told me about him, I don’t think Curt Joubert would want all his hard work to be in vain. He wouldn’t want that boat to just sit there at the dock until the next bunch of good-for-nothing thieves comes along to steal it or strip it bare. If you think it’s suitable for the job, then you ought to take it. If things ever settle down in the future and anyone asks questions, then I’ll say I was responsible for that decision. After all, it’s not unreasonable to assume that the vessel might be confiscated as evidence in a murder case.”

  “You’ve got a point, and I appreciate your suggestion, but you’ve got to understand that if I take this boat upriver without Vic and Curt to bring it back, there’s a good chance that’s where it’ll stay.

  “I know that, and I doubt anyone will ever miss it. Vic didn’t say anything about Curt having any kids, but if he did, they’re older than us and pro
bably live somewhere pretty far away. If they haven’t come here to check on their parents by now, they’re not going to.”

  “Fine, that settles it then. I’m going to have a look around down below and then I’ll finish installing that starter and see if she’ll fire up.”

  “Okay. I’ll go back and get my boat while you do that. If you can get it running, we ought to go ahead and take it back to Vic’s dock when we go. It doesn’t make sense to leave it here.”

  The main cabin was unlocked, so when Keith left, Eric went inside to take a look around. The interior was small, as he’d known it would be from the overall size of the vessel, but it was well designed to make use of what space there was. Like most small boat interiors, it had a V-berth forward, with storage under, and a dinette table that dropped down to convert into a second double berth. There was a narrow quarter berth to starboard as well. The boat was well suited for a couple like Curt and his wife to live aboard for extended cruises, as they had planned to do, but it could also accommodate an extra guest or two.

  Eric lifted the bunk cushions and opened cabinets to see what stores were aboard, and was pleasantly surprised to discover that the Gulf Traveler was already well-provisioned with a wide variety of canned goods and staples like rice, oatmeal, cornmeal, flour, coffee and dried beans. Mr. Joubert had certainly been planning for a while, and had probably put all this stuff on board well before the food shortages began. From what Eric had seen in the kitchen, the couple kept a full pantry in the house as well and must have been living off that while leaving their cruising provisions untouched. From what he could see here, Eric concluded there was more than enough food aboard for the journey he had in mind, so that was one less thing he had to worry about.

  Inspecting the vessel further, he saw why Vic had so enthusiastically recommended it. The Gulf Traveler was big enough to carry everything a couple or even three or four people needed for months of cruising, yet still small and handy enough for most any navigable waters. There wasn’t a lot of open deck space due to the oversized cabin, but he could lash the bikes to the rail and his folding kayak would fit in a locker if it was disassembled or it could be towed if not. Eric wouldn’t know whether or not Vic was right about his estimated cruising speed until he got the engine running and took it out, but the big diesel looked more than adequate for the job. He would look for paperwork with the specifications later, as he also hoped to find info on the fuel tank capacity. Checking the sight gauge on the main tank he saw that it was half full. Whatever extra was needed to top it off could probably be found aboard Vic’s trawler, and Keith would know where to get more if it was needed.

  Satisfied that the vessel was indeed everything Vic had said it was and more, Eric left the cabin and went down into the engine room to complete the starter installation. When that was done he checked the engine oil and then tried to crank it. The starting battery seemed to barely have enough juice to turn it over, and after two attempts, it was dead. Eric checked the switches and wiring and didn’t see an easy way to start the engine with the house battery bank, so rather than disconnect them, he decided it’d be easier to get a starting battery out of one of the two vehicles out front. Fifteen minutes later, he was back with the one from the pickup truck, and he could hear Keith’s boat coming up the bayou as he tightened the cable connections. The replacement battery had a good charge, and the engine turned over with plenty of speed to crank it, but still wouldn’t start. The problem was more than a simple dead battery and now it would have to wait.

  Hearing Keith approach, Eric knew Vic’s death had to be sinking in and hitting his brother hard now that the action was over and he was driving with the body right there in the boat with him. Eric hated that this happened right when he was about to be leaving, because he knew Keith could use the company of a brother. He would have Bart though, because there was no way Eric was letting the old man go upriver with him now, because without Vic, the old man would have to make the long voyage back alone. It would have been nice if it had worked out, but everything changed with Vic’s death.

  Eric had a decision to make regarding how to proceed. If he took the boat upriver alone, it would take him a lot longer than he planned because he would have to stop and sleep along the way. He needed to run round the clock to cover that kind of distance, and a shallow-draft vessel like the Gulf Traveler could safely do so. He would make up his mind soon, but he already had a pretty good idea of what he was going to do.

  Vic’s shooting made it clear that travel by boat did not in any way guarantee safety, though. Someone could open fire from the woods at any point along the river, but after Keith identified one of the two shooters as someone who’d had brushes with the law before, the attack didn’t seem so random. The incoming fire had caught the three of them by surprise, and Eric knew that he or Keith could have just as easily been killed as Vic. But whether the bullet that killed Vic had been carefully aimed or simply hit him because he was in its path didn’t matter. Vic was dead either way. Eric had experienced the random nature of the grim reaper many times in combat, watching a comrade next to him fall while he went unscathed. It never seemed to make any sense when it happened, and it always happened when it was least expected. Vic didn’t deserve to die that way, but no one did. Eric had long ago accepted that it would eventually happen to him too, and he had made peace with it as far as his own life went. To die in battle was the warrior’s way, but he needed to stay alive long enough to give Megan a chance to survive this mess and live her life in peace. If he could beat the odds a bit longer until he got her to a safe place, it would be yet another win. How many more of those Eric had left, he had no way of knowing, but until then, he would press on with a focus on the objective, rather than dwell on the ‘what ifs’. Eric climbed back to the deck and closed the engine room hatch, then reached to catch Keith’s lines as his brother pulled alongside the Gulf Traveler.

  “I’m probably going to have to bleed the fuel lines. It must have been a while since the motor’s been run. We might as well leave it here for now and come back and deal with it later. We’ve got more important business to take care of first,” Eric nodded at Vic’s body, half-covered by the poncho Keith had draped over it.

  When they reached Vic’s, Jonathan and Bart were fishing off the dock yet again, and the brothers quickly told them of the ambush and what happened to Vic. Before the story was finished, Shauna and Daniel and Andrew had joined them on the dock, and sadness over Vic’s death overshadowed the fact that they had found the riverboat the three of them had set out to inspect. Even so, the inevitable questions about the boat eventually came up.

  “Without Vic and Curt to help you bring it back, there’s no point in you going upriver with me, Dad,” Eric said. “There’s no way I’m going to let you attempt to bring it back here alone. I’ll just have to leave it at my jump off point.”

  “And it damned sure won’t be there when you get back. A 28-foot cruiser is way too big to hide. It’ll be gone in a matter of days, if not hours, no matter where you leave it.”

  “And that’s probably just as well. Who knows if Megan and I will even be able to get back to the river to return in it anyway? I wasn’t counting on having that option if Vic and Curt took me upriver and dropped me off. I may take an entirely different route back from the mountains, but I’ll still take the Klepper upriver with me. I can certainly hide that somewhere in the woods near the bank so we’ll have a boat if we do happen to come back that way and need the option.”

  “Regardless of that, I just hate to see you ditch a fine vessel like that when it may come in handy later.”

  “It can’t be helped, Dad.”

  “Well, without anyone to go with you, it’ll take you twice as long to get there. You’ll have to stop and anchor every night. Why don’t you let Jonathan and I go with you? The two of us could bring it back down here just fine. Hell, Shauna can go too! She wants to help. That’d be the best way I can think of.”

  “I’m not going up that r
iver to help bring a boat back anywhere,” Shauna said to Bart. “I’m going all the way to Colorado with Eric.”

  “Yeah, and I want to go all the way too,” Jonathan said.

  “We can continue this discussion later,” Eric said, making it clear that he wasn’t going to comment further on who, if anyone was going with him. “Keith needs us all right now,” Eric glanced over to the other dock where Keith was standing with a hand on the rail of Vic’s Miss Anita and his back to the rest of them.

  They buried Vic later that afternoon in the small cemetery next to the church on the east side of the river basin, where Lynn and her mother had recently been laid to rest. Vic and Lynn’s sister Jeanette was there with her family, as they lived nearby in the house where they’d all grown up, but Vic hadn’t spoken to his ex-wife or teenaged son since the phones went down. Jeanette said as far she knew, they were living near Mobile, Alabama, but there was no way to reach them to even let them know Vic was dead.

  “I’m glad you convinced Dad he has no business going up that river with you,” Keith said; when he pulled Eric aside to talk after they all gathered at the house with Jeanette’s family after leaving the cemetery. “I can’t imagine something happening to him too, after all this. Of course I’m going to worry about you too.”

  “No need to. You know how it is out there. Worrying won’t help a bit, but I understand completely about Dad. I’m sure you can find enough excitement to keep him occupied around here. I’ll worry about him far less here than if he were still in Florida, and I know you’ll enjoy his company.

  “I’m glad we’re in agreement about him, but what are you going to tell Jonathan and Shauna?”

  Eric was staring back at the house where they could hear the others talking as his brother waited for his reply. When he turned back to Keith he said he’d been giving it a lot of thought but had finally come to a decision.