Tribulation

by Scott B. Williams

  “Do you really want to stop this early, Eric? I’m not the least bit tired and the river here seems plenty wide enough to navigate in the dark,” Shauna said.

  “It may be, but if we keep going we’ll end up in Simmesport well before dawn. I certainly don’t want to approach the lock in the dark, when we have no idea who might be running it, or if anyone is at all. If we sit tight here and leave at dawn, we should still get there by late morning or noon, anyway.”

  “I guess you’re right. It’s just that now that we are finally on our way, I want to keep up the momentum and keep moving. I’ve been waiting long enough.”

  “I know how you feel and I feel the same, Shauna, but we can’t let our enthusiasm overcome the need for caution. Remember what you said about needing to go along to keep me in check?

  “Don’t worry about losing the momentum. Once we’re on the Mississippi, we won’t be stopping until we get where we’re going. We’ll be running through the night tomorrow night, and every night after. But even staying here we need to pull rotating security watches. If you’re feeling restless, feel free to take the first one for as long as you want. I’m wiped out from all the preps over the last couple days, so I’m gonna get some sleep while I can.”

  Shauna didn’t wake him until 0300, and all had been quiet up until then and remained so until the first hint of light appeared in the east. When he roused Jonathan and Shauna to let them know it was time to get underway, Eric was feeling pretty good about their choice to travel by river rather than set out on the road at the start. That all changed a few hours later though, when they reached Simmesport and the second bridge spanning the river since I-10. They came into view of it from quite a distance because there was a long, straight stretch of river to the south of it. With his binoculars, Eric spotted two vehicles parked near either end of the span. He was pretty sure of what they were at first glance, and as they drew closer, it was clear that the flat black trucks were some variant of military Humvees.

  “Are they soldiers or what?” Jonathan asked, after Eric handed him the binoculars. “Do you think they’ll shoot at us?”

  “I have no idea, but I don’t think they’re civilian police. This is a tiny little town. I’m going to try and raise them on the radio. Whoever they are, they’re probably on some kind of security duty, watching the river. I want to make sure they don’t think we’re a threat.” Eric drew his Glock and handed it to Jonathan. “Put all our weapons somewhere out of sight, but close enough to get to if we need them.”

  While Jonathan stashed the rifles and handguns in the lockers under the seats Eric tried the VHF on Channel 16, 9, 13 and 14, but each time got the same result—no answer.

  “I find it hard to believe they’re not monitoring the VHF channels if they’re watching the river for traffic,” he told Shauna, seeing the worried look on her face.

  “What do we do? Do you think we should stop before we get too close?”

  “Where is that gonna get us? The way to the Mississippi is under that bridge. Unless they do something to tell us otherwise, like fire a warning shot, we might as well go ahead. What else can we do? I want you on the helm though, so I can focus on the trucks and anything else that might show up. Cut your speed to about five knots from here on up to the bridge. We’ll take it nice and slow until we get past it—if they let us.”

  As they drew nearer though, Eric had to wonder if there were actually any occupants in the two Humvees. It was impossible to see anything through the small tinted side windows and the doors remained shut. If anyone was watching them from within, it didn’t appear that they were going to attempt to intercept them. Moments later, when the Gulf Traveler was sliding slowly under the bridge, Eric half expected to see rifle barrels suddenly pointing down at them from above, but then they were clear and still nothing happened. He and Jonathan stood there staring up while Shauna remained frozen at the helm. When they were far enough north to be able to see the Humvees again, the doors were still shut tight.

  “This is really creepy, dude. I still feel like we’re being watched.”

  “Maybe. It’s hard to say for sure,” Eric said. “Maybe those trucks are just parked there to make it look like there’s security here. Who knows?”

  “I guess it could be either good or bad, depending on what we find out when we get to the lock,” Shauna said. “If those vehicles are abandoned, there may not be anyone there to operate the locks either.”

  “Or maybe a bunch of terrorists took it over,” Jonathan said. “I’ll bet they would love to get control of the Mississippi River!”

  “I doubt that’s happened,” Eric said. “The river is too important for moving goods. Whatever resources the government’s got left will be focused on protecting major transportation corridors like that river, just as I suspect they control most of the major highways. We just haven’t seen it where we’ve been because of the damage the hurricane did. No one has bothered in the storm zone because there is so much destruction that it’s too big of a problem to deal with right now. But that’s only in the coastal south. Soon, we’ll be in a whole new region, and that’s when we’ll start to find out what’s really going on.”

  They were still within sight of the bridge at Simmesport off the stern when the channel leading to the lock appeared just ahead on the right. Eric steered the Gulf Traveler into the entrance of this much narrower waterway, and then followed it around two bends as it led them east. There were several abandoned and rusting barges tied up at intervals along the wooded banks here, but no sign of any tow boats or other vessels that could move under their own power. It appeared that no one was around at all until they came to the straight canal leading into the lock. It was from that point that they could finally see the long seawall leading to the lock entrance, and beyond, a drawbridge that crossed over the waterway. Two black Humvees like the ones at the last bridge were parked on the low span there as well, and with the binoculars, Eric saw armed men standing there beside them, watching and waiting for the Gulf Traveler to approach.

  “What do you think, Eric?”

  “That we’re about to find out who’s in charge of this lock, and that they’re probably interested in finding out who we are and where we’re going.”

  “I don’t like the looks of this. I wonder if we should turn back and consider something else.”

  “It’s a little to late for that now, Shauna. Look behind you:” Eric nodded to the channel through which they’d just come. A gray military gunboat was rounding the bend behind them. Four men with rifles stood at the rails to port and starboard, while a fifth manned the .50 caliber machine gun mounted at the bow, its menacing barrel covering the Gulf Traveler as the vessel closed in on them.

  “Oh shit, dude! Where did they come from? It looks like we are totally screwed now!” Jonathan said.

  “Just be cool and don’t make any sudden moves.” Eric glanced around to make sure all of their weapons were still hidden from view. “It’s probably just a security precaution. The boat must have been hidden on one of the dead-end channels north of this turn off. Whoever was on that last bridge must have called them to give them a heads up.”

  “Yeah, but how do we know they’re the good guys?”

  “We don’t, but if that guy opens fire with that M2 before they ask us any questions, we can probably assume they aren’t, right?”

  “Thanks a lot, Eric. You have a real knack for making everyone feel better about things,” Shauna said, glaring at him.

  “Just relax and be cool. These guys are too well equipped to be terrorists. They are federal security troops of some sort, and I’m sure they just want to check us out. I know how these guys think so let me do the talking, okay? Keep it at idle speed and just ease on up to the lock until they tell us what to do.”

  Eric stepped aft to the stern after telling Jonathan to stay there next to Shauna at the helm. He slowly lifted his hands so that they were high and visible, while giving the men in the boat a friendly wave with a slight m
otion of his right. The gunner had him squarely in his sights and the other four on deck had their M4s at ready, their gazes fixed on Eric and his crew as the gap between the vessels narrowed. When the boat was within easy hailing distance, the helmsman veered off at a slight angle that took them to the Gulf Traveler’s starboard side, the man on the M2 tracking them all the while.

  “Pull your vessel alongside that seawall to port!” one of the other men ordered, pointing to the quarter-mile long concrete structure on the north side of the channel that led all the way to the lock entrance.

  Eric told Shauna to do it, and ordered Jonathan forward to ready a line while he remained at the stern, giving the men in the boat his full attention.

  “We’re just trying to get to the river,” Eric called out to the men, as he nodded towards the lock that stood in their way. He didn’t get a reply, but he smiled and tried to appear unconcerned, as if this were totally expected. As he studied the men and their uniforms and hardware, he wasn’t quite sure what kind of unit they might be. The boat was a little longer than the Gulf Traveler, maybe 32 feet, and he could now see enough of the stern to tell that it wasn’t outboard powered like Keith’s patrol boat. It reminded him of the SOC-R boats his team had used for riverine combat missions, and all its visible surfaces were painted flat gray. Eric didn’t think these guys were Navy, although anything was possible. As they neared the seawall, he also noted that whoever the men were, they had set up a semi-permanent post here, as there were several more vehicles and a cluster of new pre-fab structures in the open, grassy area just north of the lock.

  More men with rifles appeared at the top of the seawall by the time they were alongside, and the one nearest him demanded that Eric toss him a line. The dock they were standing on was at least ten feet above the waterline, but there was a narrow metal ladder bolted to it for access from lower freeboard vessels like the Gulf Traveler. Another man who Eric figured to be the NCO in charge stood near the top of the ladder, scanning the boat and crew below him before directing a question at Eric.

  “Do any of you have any weapons?”

  Eric spread his arms out to the side, his palms facing up so the man could see. Shauna and Jonathan did the same.

  “We’re unarmed,” Eric said, glad that he’d handed Jonathan his Glock when he told the kid to stash the guns out of sight. He was being truthful in saying they had nothing on their persons, but if the boat were searched, all of the firearms would be quickly found. The Gulf Traveler was being drawn closer to the seawall as the men who had taken the lines from him and Jonathan took up the slack and they made them fast to cleats somewhere along the wall above.

  “Okay,” the officer said, “all of you, move to the bow of your vessel and stay there. Keep your hands where I can see them! We’re coming aboard.”

  “By what authority?” Eric demanded.

  “By the authority of the Commander in Chief of the United States.”

  “So you guys are federal? Are you with the Department of Defense or Homeland Security? Which branch?”

  “We’re asking the questions here, Captain, not you. Now stand aside and move to the bow of your vessel.”

  Shauna glared at him and Eric nodded to her and Jonathan to go ahead and comply. When they started forward, he followed. He knew there was no point in arguing with this man as there wasn’t a damned thing he could do to stop them while surrounded by all that firepower. It was clear that this was some kind of federal security force charged with guarding this key access point between two important waterways, so it was best to try and work with them or there would be little hope of being allowed to pass at all.

  Eric kept his eyes on the men boarding the boat as he joined Jonathan and Shauna at the bow. It wasn’t all that surprising that the officer in charge refused to answer his questions, and he understood that they would be treated with suspicion simply because they showed up here. He suspected the men might be part of some newly formed branch of Homeland Security created in response to the current nationwide crisis. They didn’t look like former civilian pencil pushers though. Eric saw battle-hardened experience in the faces of several of the men, probably gained in action overseas before things got so bad at home and they were assigned to this. Maybe some of them had a background similar to his, but that didn’t mean they were going to cut him any slack, and now that six of them were coming aboard to search the vessel, Eric’s biggest concern was how they would react to finding the guns.

  “I might as well tell you now that you’re going to find weapons,” Eric called back to the officer. “We only have them because they’re necessary for traveling in the current situation, as I’m sure you’re well aware, sir.”

  He didn’t get a reply, but when one of the men pulled the first M4 from a locker and held it up for his commander to see, Eric and his crew were immediately ordered to kneel on the deck facing forward towards the bow with their hands on top of their heads. The officer and four of the soldiers already on board were upon them a moment later, securing Eric and Jonathan’s wrists in front of them with heavy plastic cable ties. Seeing the large bandage and splint on Shauna’s had, they left her unrestrained, but closely guarded by two men.

  Eric knew there was little point in trying his Houdini trick this time. The man that was restraining him knew what he was doing, and when he was finished the unbreakable band was so tight there was danger of it cutting off circulation to his hands. From the shouts back and forth among the men, Eric was aware that several more were swarming onto the Gulf Traveler from the dock, and he had no doubt that they were about to take the boat apart looking for more contraband now that they’d found weapons.

  “Like I said, we’re only carrying weapons for defensive purposes,” Eric said; when the two men beside him yanked him back to his feet to face the officer in charge.

  “A military-issue M4 with an M203 launcher? That’s not something you bought at the gun show to play with at the local range. It’s the kind of hardware you obviously stole from a government or police agency. It appears to me that you and your crew are involved in terrorist activity, and we’re going to get to the bottom of it, one way or the other.”

  “We’re not terrorists!” Shauna said. “My husband is a Navy SEAL veteran who’s fought terrorists all over the world, for Christ’s sake! He’s on your side! We’re just trying to get to our daughter and get her to safety. We are going by boat as far up the Mississippi as we can before heading west to Colorado to find her.”

  “The Mississippi River corridor is closed to civilian traffic, other than authorized commercial transport vessels. Even if you weren’t in possession of illegal weapons, you wouldn’t be allowed past this checkpoint in an unauthorized vessel.”

  “How can you close a navigable river? We are going by river because it’s too dangerous to travel the roads!” Shauna protested. “We’re not out here to cause trouble. We’re just passing through.”

  Eric gave her a look that he hoped would convince her to give up the argument for now. This was going to be more involved than a cursory inspection; he knew that when they were ordered towards the ladder. Their hands had been secured in front for this reason, so they could still climb, although with difficulty. Shauna went first, favoring her good hand and when Jonathan and Eric followed, the three of them were ordered towards the cluster of buildings with several of the armed men following closely. They were separated despite another outcry from Shauna, and Eric was taken alone into a small room where he was forced to sit in a chair backed up against the far wall.

  “You’ve got five minutes to explain to me where you were going and what you planned to do with those weapons,” the commanding officer informed him.

  “Colorado, like my wife told you, sir! We’re all American citizens, and as such, I believe we have the right to travel freely, as well as the right to bear arms.”

  “Not now you don’t! We are effectively under martial law, and my men and I have the authority to shoot on sight anyone suspected of terrorism or
insurrection. Under our rules of engagement, possession of weapons is a green light and we don’t even have to give you an opportunity to explain. But I am giving you one chance to do so anyway, and I want you to start by telling me who you are and where you got that military hardware!”

  Fourteen

  ERIC HAD BEEN THINKING of the possible implications of being detained and interrogated at this security post from the moment he spotted the gunboat closing in. He knew the weapons would be found if the boat was searched, and he’d heard even before he arrived in Florida that the consequences of possessing them were serious. Unlike someone traveling overland, being on a cruising vessel operating at sea might grant them a little leeway with the law, but they were on inland waters now, and Eric doubted the Gulf Traveler would merit any sort of sovereign immunity here.

  Now that he and Shauna and Jonathan were ashore, and firearms had been found, he knew the vessel and her crew would be more thoroughly scrutinized. While he wasn’t worried that the men would find any contraband other than weapons and ammo, there was also the question of ownership of the boat itself. At first, Keith had suggested Eric take a letter written by him stating that the vessel had been seized by the sheriff’s department as evidence in a crime scene. That sort of thing happened all the time, especially when drugs were involved, and it was reasonable enough, but for one small problem: how to explain why it would then be allowed to leave the jurisdiction of the incident? Taking it out of the parish would seem odd, never mind embarking on an extended river voyage like the one Eric had in mind. Bart, especially, thought it would be hard to convince any authorities that might ask that there was a need to move it so far, especially with things the way they were now.