Feral Nation Series: Books 1-3: A Post-Apocalyptic Thriller Series Boxed Set

by Scott B. Williams

  “No, it was definitely before the hurricane hit and took out the repeater towers down here. I’m sure he’s got his hands full then, if he’s dealing with hurricane aftermath. It was bad enough before. He said his department was helping out with the riots in Baton Rogue, and when they weren’t over there, they were working the Atchafalaya. Just to tell you how crazy things have been, they had people trying to take out the I-10 Bridge that crosses the swamp there; that and power lines and pipelines too! That’s how he knew what was going on with the barge traffic. They were trying to keep the fuel shipments low key because they knew damned well those riverboats would be prime targets if anyone knew they were full of fuel. Anyway, it’s something to think about, since it’s kind of on your way, no matter how you might try to get to Boulder.”

  “Power line and pipeline sabotage? No shit? I thought it was the government taking out the grid in certain cities to try and quell the riots.”

  “They did start doing that, but the anarchists were determined to turn off the lights way before that. Turns out they got what they wanted without even trying. Doesn’t make a damned bit of sense does it?”

  “Not unless both sides were deliberately trying to make it hard on everybody else—everybody that didn’t want any part of this nonsense,” Eric said.

  “Well, it’s hard not to be involved now, no matter who you are. I don’t know of anywhere you could go in the Lower 48 and not be affected. Of course you know it’s been as bad or worse over in Europe.”

  “That’s exactly why my plan all along was to get a good boat—one that could take us to places nobody gives a damned about fighting over.”

  Bart made fresh coffee while they discussed this and waited for daylight. He would take Eric and Jonathan to the house afterwards, and he knew Eric would have a lot of questions for Shauna when he got there. Bart could tell the wheels were turning in Eric’s mind though, and that he was considering the idea of going to Keith’s place like he suggested.

  “The boat part of the equation is a no-brainer, the only complication is getting to Colorado first. Going up the Atchafalaya from the Gulf to Keith’s place might be a good option to start with though,” Eric said. “It’s way better than trying to go up the Mississippi, and having to deal with New Orleans and Baton Rogue.”

  “I doubt you could get through there at all,” Bart agreed.

  “Where is the Atchafalaya?” Jonathan asked. “I’ve never even heard of it.”

  “It’s a big river that runs west of the Mississippi; it heads up where the Red River runs into the Mississippi about halfway between Baton Rouge and Natchez. It’s connected to the main river by a lock and dam, and some of the traffic coming up and down the Mississippi cuts off there because it runs out to the Gulf down by Morgan City, which is a lot closer to Texas.”

  “Can you go up a river like that in the kind of sailboat you were talking about getting out of the country in?”

  “I don't see why not,” Bart said. “It’s a navigable river, although I’m not sure about bridge clearances. You might have to drop the masts to get a sailboat under some of them. And you’ll need a strong diesel engine to buck the current, I’d imagine.”

  “We’d need a good diesel regardless,” Eric said. “And a mast in a tabernacle would be a huge plus, no matter where we go, especially after we get Megan and leave for good. Knowing how unreliable the wind is in the northern Gulf this time of year, it would be a good idea to have enough fuel range to motor across. What is it, around 450 nautical miles from Fort Myers? Three or four days?”

  “Sounds about right. I can think of one vessel I’ve got here that will fit that description, but we can take a look later. I imagine you’ll want to talk to Shauna first though, and get the full story on Megan from her.”

  Twenty-two

  SHAUNA WAS AWAKE BEFORE everyone else as usual, and she was already sitting on the porch sipping coffee when the first hint of daylight began filtering through the palms surrounding the little bungalow. Shauna cherished that hour of alone time each day before Bart returned, as it was the only such time she really had since they’d all been crowded together in his house. But it wasn’t Bart she needed time away from so much as it was Daniel. She was glad her husband slept in most mornings, and particularly days like this one, after an argument like the one they’d had last night. Daniel was miserable here, and unable to adapt or develop the patience that was essential to coping with the long days of waiting in limbo. The pace of life here on the river was slower than anything Daniel had ever known. It was driving him crazy, and his inability to deal with it was wearing Shauna out. Bart had completely dismissed Daniel’s foolish idea to go back to North Palm Beach by boat, and with no one to help him or agree to go with him it wasn’t going to happen. He’d threatened to walk if he had to, and Shauna had told him to go ahead if he thought his house back there was that important. She didn’t doubt that he might actually try it at some point, and if he was determined to do so, she wouldn’t try to stop him, but she would do her best to talk him out of taking Andrew with him.

  As she sat there trying to think of more pleasant things than those arguments while she enjoyed her morning coffee, Shauna was surprised to hear an approaching outboard well before Bart’s usual time to return. She left her cup on the rough planking of the picnic table and stepped down off the porch, instinctively reaching to touch the grip of the Glock on her belt. It always reassured her when she did that, even though she hadn’t yet had the need to actually draw it from the holster. She wouldn’t let down her guard until she knew who was coming, even though the motor sounded like Bart’s as it slowed near the mouth of the little creek beside the house.

  Shauna crept down the path to the dock, but stayed back among the trees when she heard the boat turn in and reduce to idle speed. When she saw that there were three figures sitting in it instead of just one, she put her hand on the Glock again, but straining to see details through the dim gray light, she recognized Bart in the stern, his hand on the throttle as he steered to the dock. The other two occupants were sitting facing him, so that their backs were to her, but when he came alongside the dock, they both got to their feet and turned her way to ready the lines for tying off. Shauna couldn’t believe her eyes. One of Bart’s new companions was a scraggly-looking young man she’d never seen before, but the other one was Bart’s own son—Eric Branson!

  Shauna stood there frozen in shock and unable to speak as they secured the boat and stepped onto the dock. When they started up the path to the house, She still said nothing until Bart noticed her standing there among the shadows.

  “Shauna! Look what washed up at the boatyard this morning!”

  Eric saw her now after hearing Bart address her, so there was no avoiding him any longer.

  “Hi Shauna! I got here as soon as I could.”

  “It’s never soon enough though, is it Eric? Did it take a war at home to make you want to come back? Have you got a contract to work here now?”

  “You know why I’m back, Shauna! I was hoping Megan would be here with you. I went to your house first, of course, and then I came straight here. But Dad told me she didn’t come home for the summer break.”

  “You went to our house? Is it still there?”

  “Yes, it’s still there. It didn’t get as much damage from the storm as some in the area, but it’s been looted. I looked for clues that Megan had been there recently, but didn’t really find anything.”

  “That’s because she hasn’t been. I’ve been worried about her all summer, Eric. I wanted to go and try to find her, but it’s just impossible now. I’ve just been hoping she’s safe with her friends, and that things aren’t as bad in Boulder as they were getting in Denver. We haven’t heard any news since the hurricane though, so I have no idea.”

  “Well if she stayed put, she’s probably better off. But wherever she is, I’ll find her if it’s the last thing I ever do. It’s what I came here for and now that I know she was still there the last time any o
f you talked to her, Colorado is where I’m going next.”

  “But how?” Shauna asked. “I don’t know what your father’s told you of the situation, but you know I would have gone if there was a way.” Even as she said it though, Shauna knew that impossible wasn’t in Eric Branson’s vocabulary. He had his faults—many of them—but being intimidated by a tough challenge wasn’t one. If anyone could get to Colorado and find Megan, it was Eric, and despite the anger she felt at seeing him here now, she also felt more hope than she’d known since the last time she had spoken with their daughter.

  She listened to his brief account of his journey here after being introduced to Jonathan and learning why Eric had brought him along. She also learned that Bart nearly shot both of them before he realized who was in his sights. By then they had made their way up to the porch, and Shauna went inside to put more water on the stove for coffee. As she measured out the grounds to brew another pot, Daniel came down the ladder from the loft.

  “Who’s here? I heard several people talking out there. It woke me up.”

  He wasn’t going to be thrilled to hear it, but Shauna didn’t hesitate to tell him: “Megan’s dad. And a friend.”

  “What? Eric Branson? Are you kidding me? What’s that son of a bitch doing here now?”

  “Shh! He can probably hear you, Daniel. He’s right outside on the porch!”

  “Did you tell him Megan wasn’t here and that even if she was, she probably wouldn’t want to see him?”

  “You don’t know that she wouldn’t. Things are a lot different now. She may have a totally different perspective.”

  “Do you? It sounds like you’re happy to see him. I guess he’s the good guy now that everybody’s walking around with guns all the time. More useful than a guy like me, is that it?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous, Daniel! Eric is Megan’s father! I haven’t been able to go get her, but if anyone can, he can. And he will. He’s not going to be hanging around here waiting, so you don’t have to worry about that.”

  Daniel muttered something under his breath that Shauna couldn’t hear, but she knew what it was about. Daniel thought he was smarter than Eric and certainly more cultured and successful. He also knew Eric probably felt the same disdain for him because he wasn’t a ‘warrior’ and hadn’t done anything particularly brave or dangerous in his life. The two men were opposites, and both of them had their good points and their bad points. Daniel had certainly been easier to live with, at least before, but that was mainly because he liked being at home, which was the one place he couldn’t be now.

  “He went to our house first, before he came here,” Shauna said, knowing that would grab Daniel’s attention.

  “He did? What did he say? Is everything all right over there? Did he say if the power was back on?”

  “Why don’t you ask him? He can give you all the details first hand and you can ask all the questions you like.”

  The two men had only met on a couple of occasions, and Shauna knew Daniel was uncomfortable around Eric, but he was here now and there was no avoiding him until he was ready to leave. They were guests in Eric’s father’s house and that was that. When she led him outside and reintroduced them, along with Jonathan, Daniel’s anxiety over his house wiped away any inhibitions he might have had about talking to her ex-husband.

  “The hurricane did some wind damage, but nothing major. Like I told Shauna, it was the looters that came afterwards that did the real damage… the front door was kicked in… the cars in the garage were busted up and their tires slashed… everything inside the house torn apart and scattered. It was ransacked pretty thoroughly, man, but it wasn’t just yours; it was the whole neighborhood; hell, the whole city.”

  “Did you see any of the neighbors? Did it look like anyone was at home?”

  “No, of course not, it’s too dangerous. I saw a man get shot to death right in front of me at the end of your canal. As far as I know, the body is still where it fell, left to rot in the weeds that used to be somebody’s lawn. I don’t think anyone that lived in that neighborhood stuck around for long, whether they left after the storm or right before it hit like you did. There’s no electricity, no running water, no gas, no food and no security. You can’t go back there, man. Maybe someday, but not anytime soon.”

  Shauna saw the change in Daniel’s face as the news sunk in. He seemed to believe Eric’s matter-of-fact account of what he’d seen, and it was an immense relief to her because maybe at last he would stop talking about it. Maybe he would realize that life as he knew it before had changed forever and it was now time to start making the best of what they had to work with. That kind of change was hard to face, but it was time to accept it and get on with looking forward.

  “It looks like all of you have been pretty well set here at my Dad’s,” Eric said. “I figured I would find you here, and I knew the old man would have this under control. That boatyard is quite the resource when it comes to survival goods.”

  “As long as you keep the rats out of it,” Bart said. “I don’t get to sleep at night any more, but that’s the cost of doing business, I suppose.”

  “You’ve done a helluva job, from what I can see, Dad.”

  “I’d rather be hauling out boats and running the yard instead of picking off looters, but times have changed, that’s for sure. As long as I can get a little rest in the daytime, I’ll be all right. I’m gonna need a nap here in a bit, and I imagine you two could use one too after paddling that kayak all night. After that, we’ll head back down to the yard and have a look at a vessel I think you’re going to like.”

  Shauna looked from Bart to Eric, but before she could ask her question, Eric answered it.

  “What I had in mind all along, Shauna, was to find Megan and get her out of here. It’s not safe in Florida, and it’s not safe anywhere in the U.S. for the long term. I had planned to come here and outfit a good boat and sail it to someplace that nobody’s fighting over. Some place way the hell away from here.”

  “What makes you think Megan would want to do that? Do you think she’d leave all her friends and everybody else to sail away into the sunset with you? She’s hardly seen you in five years, Eric. You don’t even know her anymore, and what about me? I’m her mother. Do you think I’d be happy about you taking her away to where I might never see her again?”

  “What’s the alternative, Shauna? Do you think she’d be safe here in Florida in this situation? You’ve been okay out here with my dad, but only because it’s off the beaten path and hard to find. It won’t stay that way indefinitely, and he can’t keep people from raiding that boatyard for long. Even good people turn to desperate measures when they have no other alternative. I’ve seen it too many times, and I can tell you it’s a fact. And I wasn’t planning on just grabbing Megan and leaving. I want my dad to come along, and I was going to ask you and Daniel and Andrew to come as well.”

  “To go where?” Daniel asked. “How do you know anyplace else is any safer than here? The United States is not going to fall apart because of a bunch of anarchists and terrorists. They’re going to get this under control and things will be better here than they were before.”

  “That would be nice, Daniel, but you know, I’ve been dealing with this in several countries in Europe for half a decade. Even before it started here, our military was spread thin fighting this kind of crap all over the world. There aren’t enough resources left at home to handle something like this if it’s as big as I think it is.”

  “Well, why haven’t you been here doing your part? I thought that’s what you did for a living?”

  Eric ignored the question, but Shauna knew Daniel was going to go too far if she didn’t intervene. She got her chance to change the subject when Andrew woke up and came down to see what was going on after hearing all the loud talking. Andrew had met his stepsister’s father once before and knew Eric was a soldier of some sort. When he saw him and Jonathan standing there with the M4s slung at their sides, he started in on questions that w
ould have kept them busy all morning. Bart managed to put him on hold so the three men could get a nap though, by promising Andrew they’d take him with them when they went back to the boatyard that afternoon.

  When they all finally left in Bart’s skiff around 3pm that afternoon, Shauna and Daniel had the house to themselves for the first time since they’d been there. With the loft wide open to the lower level and the rest of the house, they’d not had a moment of privacy in all that time. Shauna knew Daniel wasn’t happy about Eric showing up there, and she understood why he felt that way. But after Eric had taken her aside before they left and told her what he and Bart had discussed about sailing to Louisiana, Shauna already knew that she that wanted to go too. Megan wasn’t coming back to south Florida on her own, and if Eric had a viable plan to reach her, then Shauna wanted to do her part to help. She had to get Daniel on board with it too, even though she already knew he wasn’t going to like it. The first step in making him more agreeable was to reassure him that Eric wasn’t a threat. He needed to know he was still her man, even though he hadn’t been acting like much of one lately. She took his hand and led him to the foot of the steps that went up to the loft.

  “Come on, Daniel, let’s go upstairs. They won’t be back for three or four hours. Let’s spend some time in the moment and forget about our worries. It’s been way too long.”

  Twenty-three

  ERIC COULDN’T WAIT TO see the vessel Bart wanted to show him that afternoon. He was full of anticipation and ready to go, even though he’d only slept a few hours. Seeing Shauna again reminded him even more of why he was here, and he intended to waste no time putting together a new plan to reach Megan. The first part of that plan was deciding on a boat. Most of the vessels dry-docked in his father’s yard were far from suitable for what he had in mind—either because they were too fuel thirsty, too dependent upon technology, or drew too much water to enter shallow rivers and coves. All of them of course, belonged to someone else, and none of the owners could be reached to inquire as to whether or not they wanted to sell. Eric had told Bart about the gold he was carrying, but it would do little good towards paying for a vessel if there was no one with whom to negotiate a price.