Tribulation

by Scott B. Williams

  “Two of those security guys,” Ralph said, as he tried to explain what happened.

  “I know. They’ve been taken care of now though. I didn’t expect to find you alive, but I’m sure glad you are. We’re going to need your help.”

  “Captain Anderson?”

  “The captain is dead, as are all three of the deckhands. It’s just you and me and my wife and Jonathan. The barges were about to ram the riverbank by the time we got control of the helm. We need you at the helm, Ralph. Do you think you can make it?”

  When they reached the pilothouse, Ralph grimaced at the sight of his captain, tied up and dead by strangulation. Eric said he and Jonathan would remove the body, and they did so while Ralph studied the charts to figure out where they were.

  “We’re just north of the mouth of the Arkansas River,” Ralph said, when Eric returned to the pilothouse. He pointed to it on the chart, a large tributary entering the Mississippi from the Arkansas side. Eric knew its headwaters flowed out of the very mountains he was trying to reach, but there were many locks and damns in the lower stretches and he’d never considered it as an option for going west.

  “Those guys probably timed their attack like they did because they planned to take the tow into the Arkansas,” Ralph said. “If the security team was in contact with whoever was on the other boat, there’s probably more of them waiting somewhere up that river.”

  “But we’re upstream of it now?”

  “Yes, and we need to keeping moving that way as fast as possible. You said the one guy got away. We’d better hope they don’t have more boats, or this may not be over yet. I’m going to call Sergeant Patterson’s base back at Simmesport, and see if they have a gunboat anywhere on this part of the river.”

  “There’s a radio aboard that can reach them that far?” Shauna asked.

  “The single-sideband, yes. There’s a designated frequency that we’ve been using since we started running fuel tankers north again. We can let them know what happened, but that doesn’t mean we’re not on our own. They don’t have the resources to patrol the entire river, and there may not be another gunboat this side of Memphis. I want to try and get through though, because this is a situation they’re going to have to remedy. It took some elaborate planning for whoever was behind this to get those guys aboard this vessel under pretense of a security team. And they would have gotten away with it if not for you folks.”

  Ralph tuned in the frequency and after a couple of calls stating that he had an emergency situation; he received a reply from the post at the Old River Lock in Simmesport. The voice at the other end advised him to proceed northbound on the river with the tow if possible.

  “We’ll put in a request for a gunboat to investigate the situation on the Arkansas as soon as possible. If you can get those fuel tankers as far as Cairo, we’ll have a vessel meet you near the confluence and arrange for a crew to assist you in getting them on to their destination.”

  “Where is Cairo?” Jonathan asked, when the radio transmission was over.

  “Cairo, Illinois,” Ralph said. “It’s on the Ohio River, close to where it empties into the Mississippi. They’ve got a new command post there to control access to the Ohio, naturally. It’s the only one this side of St. Louis.”

  “And now maybe they’ll consider setting one up at the mouth of the Arkansas, after this,” Eric said.

  “Maybe. It’s a lower priority, though, not as much traffic. I’m wondering now if this attempted hijacking has anything to do with that bunch that’s controlling northwest Arkansas. They’d need to source a lot of fuel from somewhere to organize the way they say they’re doing.”

  “Sounds like a reasonable theory to me,” Eric said, “but not our problem now. Do you think we can get these barges to Cairo on our own, Ralph? Just tell us what to do, and we’ll do our best to help in any way we can.”

  “It shouldn’t be a problem. Fuel won’t be an issue and we won’t be dealing with any locks between here and there and there’s hardly any traffic to watch for. We’ll just need to make sure we keep her in the channel and off the sandbars and wing dams. We’ll set up a rotating watch and I’ll show all of you what to look out for when you’re on duty. I’ll do my sleeping and eating right here in the pilothouse, so I’ll never be far away if there’s a problem.”

  * * *

  By sunset on the day of the attack, the mouth of the Arkansas River was many miles astern and there had been no sign of a pursuit or any other traffic on the river. Over the course of the next few days and nights, they passed beneath the bridges at Helena, Memphis and Caruthersville unchallenged and finally reached the mouth of the Ohio, where they were met by a military gunboat similar to the one at the post in Simmesport.

  After they were escorted to a mooring near the newly established base, the officer in command came aboard, wanting a full report on the incident. He introduced himself to Eric as Lieutenant Holton, after he’d gotten the answers he needed from the chief engineer about the cargo.

  “I’ve spoken with Sergeant Patterson at Simmesport,” the lieutenant began. “He told me about your background, and some of the operations you were involved in with the SEALs.”

  “I didn’t give him that many details,” Eric said, “just enough to keep us from getting shot or locked up. He confiscated our weapons anyway, and it’s a wonder we didn’t all die because of it.”

  “I’m sorry about that, but the sergeant was following orders. He had no way of knowing what was going to happen out there on the river, or he might have let you slip by with them. Anyway, as for your background, when we got the call from the chief engineer on board and learned what happened, Sergeant Patterson did a little checking with the Navy. Needless to say, what he learned has us both quite impressed.”

  “Don’t be. Whatever it was, it’s ancient history now,” Eric said. “I’ve been out for years.”

  “Yes, and working some equally high-risk operations for better pay. I can’t say that I blame you for that, but I understand that’s not why you came back stateside.”

  “No, it isn’t.”

  “You need to get to Boulder, Branson, and I know you want to get there as soon as possible. Going upriver on a towboat isn’t the fast way, but you know that already. I understand that you want to keep a low profile, and I don’t blame you. It’s dangerous as hell out there, with the way law and order has broken down, and even if it wasn’t, you can’t just drive there with gas nearly impossible to find.”

  “No, there aren’t a lot of alternatives. That’s why we have bikes with us for Plan B. We’re probably gonna need them when we get to Kansas City.”

  “There maybe a better way, Branson. I may be in a position to help you. What if you could get there in a couple of days? Wouldn’t that make a huge difference?”

  “Of course it would, but how is that possible?”

  “It can be arranged. I’ve still got to clear it with my superiors, but I think I can make it happen. There is something we’ll need from you in exchange though, a little covert job that shouldn’t be that hard for someone with your skills. If even half of what I’ve heard is true, I can’t think of anymore more qualified to pull it off. Do you want me to go on?”

  “Why me? Surely there are special forces operators available that can be brought in from somewhere?”

  “Maybe so, but this isn’t big enough for that and it needs to be done off the record anyway. Deniability, Branson, you know how it goes.”

  Ten minutes later, Eric sat there looking out over the waters of the Ohio through the windows of the pilothouse as he thought about what lieutenant had just laid out for him. The officer was willing to give him a little time to think it over, and said he’d send Shauna up when he left so the two of them could discuss it in private. Eric couldn’t tell her the details of course, nor did he need her permission to agree to it. But the two of them were in this journey together now, and they had a common objective. When he sat down with her to tell her, the reaction of shock he
got was not unexpected.

  “It’s practically a guarantee that we’ll reach Boulder, Shauna. You know as well as I do after all we’ve seen, how much that’s worth. Anything could happen between here and there.”

  “A lot could happen on this ‘mission’ too, Eric. What if you don’t make it back? What will Jonathan and I do then?”

  “Lieutenant Holton assured me that he’d still do all he could to get the two of you to Colorado. But I will make it back, Shauna. I always do right?”

  “Yeah, eventually….”

  “This is exactly the kind of thing I do Shauna, and I’m damned good at it. You’re right, I didn’t want to get involved in any of this mess when I came back here, but the fact is, we’re all involved whether we want to be or not. This isn’t a long-term commitment. It’s not like I’m signing up for anything. I’ll be in and out and back here in less time than it would take just to get to Kansas City on this barge pusher. And then we’ll be in Colorado well ahead when we hoped to be when we set out to do this. We’ve come a long way, Shauna, lots of hard and dangerous miles. Think of this as a shortcut to the finish line. It’s worth the risk. Trust me.”

  “You’d better come back, Eric Branson. I said a long time ago that I was done with waiting for you and worrying about you out there on some secret mission, without a clue what continent you were even on. If I do it this time, I’m doing it because I believe it’s the best way to get to Megan. You can’t let us down again.”

  “And I won’t. I promise.” Eric put his hand under her chin and made her look him in the eye as he said it. Then he kissed her on the cheek and turned to open the door. “I’ll go tell the lieutenant I’ll do it.”

  * * *

  Thank you for reading Feral Nation - Tribulation. I hope you enjoyed the story! Find out what Eric Branson has gotten himself into in the next action-packed sequel: Feral Nation - The Divide, available to download from Amazon now at this link: https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B07GD8J2HZ

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  Feral Nation - The Divide

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  More by Scott B. Williams

  THE FOLLOWING LINKS WILL take you to the Amazon Kindle versions of my most popular books that are available now. New books are coming all the time so stay up to date by signing up for my book alerts via my New Release Updates

  Feral Nation Series

  Feral Nation - Infiltration (Book 1)

  Feral Nation - Insurrection (Book 2)

  Feral Nation - Tribulation (Book 3)

  Feral Nation - The Divide (Book 4)

  Feral Nation - Perseverance (Book 5)

  The Pulse Series:

  The Pulse: A Novel of Surviving the Collapse of the Grid (Book 1)

  Refuge After the Collapse (Book 2)

  Voyage After the Collapse (Book 3)

  Landfall: Islands in the Aftermath (Book 4)

  Horizons Beyond the Darkness (Book 5)

  The Darkness After Series:

  Enter the Darkness (Series Prequel)

  The Darkness After (Book 1)

  Into the River Lands (Book 2)

  The Forge of Darkness (Book 3)

  The Savage Darkness (Book 4)

  Apocalypse Series:

  Sailing the Apocalypse: A Misadventure at Sea

  Nonfiction:

  On Island Time: Kayaking the Caribbean

  Bug Out: The Complete Plan for Escaping a Catastrophic Disaster Before It’s Too Late

  About the Author

  SCOTT B. WILLIAMS HAS been writing about his adventures for more than twenty-five years. His published work includes dozens of magazine articles and twenty-two books, with more projects currently underway. His interest in backpacking, sea kayaking and sailing small boats to remote places led him to pursue the wilderness survival skills that he has written about in his popular survival nonfiction books such as Bug Out: The Complete Plan for Escaping a Catastrophic Disaster Before It’s Too Late. He has also authored travel narratives such as On Island Time: Kayaking the Caribbean, an account of his two-year solo kayaking journey through the islands. With the release of The Pulse in 2012, Scott moved into writing fiction and has written several more novels with many more in the works. To learn more about his upcoming books or to contact Scott, visit his website: www.scottbwilliams.com

  Dedication

  THIS ONE IS FOR Ernest, my river canoeing partner