Eric nodded and turned his attention back to the schooner, which was slowly approaching the gap under Bart’s guidance. Jonathan was at the bow, ready if Bart needed him to toss a line or put out a fender, while Shauna stood at the back of the main cabin, next to the companionway. He didn’t see either Daniel or Andrew. Obviously, they were both below in the cabin. The men surrounding him on the barges were watching closely, but weren’t pointing their weapons in the direction of the boat. Five minutes later, the schooner was well past the gap and Bart had cut the power to let it drift in the outside channel. Eric reached in his pocket to retrieve the coin, and once he’d paid up, the man in charge told one of the others to give Eric his promised ride out to the sailboat. Eric showed no emotion as the two of them pulled away from the blockade, but he was feeling better every second. His escort said nothing during the short ride and that was just as well with Eric. If he tried anything at the last minute, Eric would draw the Glock and kill him, but he was soon back aboard Dreamtime with no further drama.
“Let’s get the hell out of here,” he said to Bart.
“It can’t be soon enough, son!” Bart pushed the shift lever to forward and slowly brought the diesel up to cruising speed as he pointed the bow south to follow the winding channel that would lead them to the center span of the Sanibel Causeway visible in the distance.
“They don’t seem to be in a big hurry to move that barge back, Shauna said, after they were well out of rifle range of the men at the blockade but still within view.
Eric took the binoculars when she handed them to him and saw that she was right. The gap was still open, and there was activity among the anchored fleet of fishing vessels. “Maybe they’re just rearranging things since they had to reset anchors and move the barge anyway. Who knows? I suppose it doesn’t matter to us.”
He didn’t think much more of it until they were well past the bridge overpass and making their way southwest in the channel leading to the Gulf beyond Sanibel Island. Daniel had finally come back on deck, and Eric pointed out that they were all still alive and unharmed.
“Maybe so, but why are those boats following us?”
Eric turned to look back where he was pointing. Sure enough, two of the big shrimp trawlers were outside the blockade and in the outbound channel, but that didn’t necessarily mean they were following the schooner.
“Just relax man. It looks like they’re going fishing. They probably decided that since they’ve already gone to the trouble to move that barge, they ought to send a couple boats out to make a few runs with the nets. If they wanted to rob us or hurt us, they would have done it when we were right there in reach and they could have easily prevented us from leaving at all.”
“It just seems suspicious to me. They’re definitely coming this way.”
“That’s because there’s only one channel out to the Gulf from there. They have to come the same way we did to reach open water. They’ll turn off and go about their business soon. You’ll see. Besides, they’re at least a mile behind us now.”
“We’ll keep an eye on them to be sure,” Bart said, “but once we get past the south end of the island and make our turn to the northwest, I expect you’ll see them heading somewhere else.”
“Hey Jonathan!” Eric shouted. “Let’s get ready to hoist some sail! Soon as we make the turn past the island there ought to be enough breeze.”
“Absolutely dude, just tell me what to do!”
“It’s not a lot different than the little Catalina we sailed over here. Just a few more strings to pull and an extra mast. You’ll have to put your back into those halyards though. Everything is bigger.”
“I figured that. I got it though!”
Shauna jumped in to help and after several minutes of hard work hauling and cleating halyards and adjusting sheets, the main, fore and main staysails were up. Bart still hadn’t slacked off the throttle on the engine though. The breeze was light this early in the day, especially since it was out of the east and the land was still close and to windward.
“We should set the jib and forestaysail too as soon as we make our northward turn,” Bart said. “We may have to motorsail for a while, but I’ll bet in another hour we can shut down the diesel.”
“I say we run it anyway unless the wind picks up enough that we can sail at full hull speed without it,” Eric said. “Fuel’s not an issue, and we’re not out here to enjoy the serenity.”
“That’s fine with me. Getting to Keith’s is all that matters. If we need more fuel later, he’ll probably have a good idea where we can get some. With all of the refineries on that coast, if there’s any available anywhere, it’ll be somewhere up there.”
Eric knew those issues were too far out in the future to think about now. Getting to Megan in Colorado and then getting her back to the boat would take some doing. One step at a time… he kept reminding himself. One step at a time….
“Those guys are still behind us,” Jonathan said.
Eric already knew it, of course, because he’d been keeping an eye on them all along, despite all the other tasks associated with getting the sails set and trimmed. There was still no reason to doubt that the fishing boats had left the river to go to work. The only thing odd about it was that they were still hanging so far back, matching Dreamtime’s pace from more than a half-mile astern. By now, they could have opened up their engines to get wherever they were going at twelve knots or better, but for some reason, they were holding half that, running the speed of the much slower sailboat. It wasn’t because they didn’t have room to pass either; the channel was plenty wide enough at this point.
“They’re probably just running at half throttle to conserve fuel,” Eric said. “It makes sense to do so if you’re thinking long term these days.”
Daniel, of course, wasn’t convinced. “Following us until we get far enough offshore is more likely. That way, there won’t be any witnesses.”
“Do you think they are going to kill us, Dad?” Andrew asked.
“No, of course they’re not, Andrew!” Shauna said, glaring at Daniel as she did so. “Your dad is just being paranoid. Eric paid those men the price they wanted to let us out. They’re not going to bother us now.”
“She’s right,” Eric said. “If anything, maybe they’re just messing with us. It must be boring sitting there at that blockade all day with nothing to do. This could be a little game for them.”
Two hours later, however, they still had company and Eric wasn’t so sure that Daniel’s fears weren’t justified. Dreamtime was now far enough out in the Gulf that the mainland of Florida was just a sliver of blue-green on the distant horizon, with only a few of the tallest buildings standing out from the hazy outline of the coast. They were sailing well now, reaching to the north in a 12 to 15 knot breeze that was enough to move the schooner along at eight knots with minimal assist from the engine. Out here there was just enough of a sea running to give her a lively motion, and Daniel soon felt queasy and went below to lie down, despite Bart’s warning that being in the cabin would probably make it worse. Eric hoped he stayed there for now though, as he didn’t need Daniel’s panic affecting the rest of the crew if it turned out he was right to mistrust the fishermen.
Their intentions became more suspect with every mile now, as the two trawlers mirrored the relatively slow pace of the schooner, following in their wake from the same distance astern. The only thing that had changed was that they had spread out from single file and were now running abeam of each other about a quarter-mile apart. It wasn’t looking good, as it appeared to Eric that they might indeed be planning and positioning for an attack. But if that were the case, what were they waiting for? Was it as Daniel suggested? Were they waiting until the schooner was completely out of sight of land so they could be sure there were no witnesses? If so, it seemed hardly necessary, as they hadn’t passed any other boats once they were outside of the channel entrance near Sanibel Island, and obviously no one was around to see anything that might happen.
A pod of
dolphins that suddenly showed up to take turns playing in the bow wave gave Eric the opportunity to quietly discuss the situation with Bart. Jonathan had spotted them first, and when he yelled to Andrew and pointed them out, the two of them rushed up there to get a closer look, followed by Shauna. Eric stayed next to Bart by the helm, studying the two boats through his binoculars.
“I thought about calling them on the VHF to ask them what in the hell they’re doing, but decided against it,” Bart said. “If they are up to no good, they probably won’t answer anyway.”
“Probably not. The longer they stay back there, the more likely I think it is they’re up to something. I’m going below to get my gear ready. If they come at us from two angles, like it appears they might, we can’t afford to let them make the first move.”
“No, and we sure can’t outrun them,” Bart agreed. “We’ll have to take it to them and hit ’em before they realize we’re willing and able. It’s the only advantage we’ve got. I’m not sure how much longer they’re gonna wait, unless they’re holding out for dark.”
“If they do wait that long, it could work in our favor, but I’m not counting on it,” Eric said. “Best to be ready now.”
When Eric went below, Daniel was just emerging from the head compartment, looking pale and unsteady. He’d obviously gone in there to throw up, and he looked to Eric like he wasn’t finished.”
“Feeling any better yet?”
“No. I don’t know why I would get seasick in these conditions. I’ve been deep sea fishing in much worse.”
“Every boat’s got a different motion. Some may affect you while others don’t. It could be something you ate too, or the stress we’re all dealing with. You’ll get used to it and get over it soon, I’m sure.”
“Are those two boats still back there?”
“Yep. I’m afraid so.”
“So they are going to attack us, aren’t they? We’re not anywhere near a channel now. You can’t tell me they’re still on the way to some fishing grounds. So what are we going to do?”
“We’ll do what we’re doing now; maintain course and keep a close eye on them. I’m getting prepared now. If they try something, we’ll hit them with everything we’ve got before they hit us.”
“I knew it! I knew it was going to come to this!”
“If it does, we’ll handle it. They could have done it at the blockade where we’d have been severely outnumbered and unable to move. Or they could have come upriver and hit us at the boatyard or the house before we even left. It’s no more dangerous to be out here than anywhere else we might be.”
“My son doesn’t deserve to die like this. He’s only twelve! Maybe we can negotiate with them. Have you tried to call them on the radio? They probably think you have more of those gold coins. You probably do, don’t you? You’re going to have to give them to them. They won’t have any reason to kill us if you give them what they want.”
“If they wanted to demand more than I gave them, they would have done it at the blockade. They would have searched the boat then and there and never let us out. It’s pretty clear to me they must have talked it over after we were already out and decided to come after whatever else we might have.”
“So give it to them then! Better that than to die!”
“What if it’s not just the gold they want, Daniel? What if they want the boat too? If so, they’re not going to want us on board in their way. They’ll kill us all and dump us over the side for the sharks. Or what if they say they want Shauna? What then, Daniel? She’s your wife now. Should we just give her to them?”
Daniel looked sicker than ever as he realized he didn’t have the answers. Eric turned his attention to the gear piled in his bunk. He pulled out his largest dry bag and opened it up, checking the rifle with the mounted grenade launcher and gathering all the hi-explosive rounds he had for it in two bandoliers so he could reload in a hurry. Then he double-checked his rifle mags to make sure they were all topped off. Both of his M4’s were chambered for 5.56, but they had Bart’s full collection of firearms to choose from as well. Bart had his favorite, the .308 caliber Springfield M1-A already close at hand in the cockpit. There was a Mossberg shotgun and a semi-automatic SKS in 7.62x39 that he’d taken off the recent looters he’d shot in the boatyard. A similar incident had netted him a decent AK-47 in the same caliber, along with half a dozen 30-round mags for it. Another of Bart’s personal favorites was a stainless-steel lever-action .45-70 loaded with 405-grain hard cast bullets. Bart had shown it to Eric when they were first moving all their things aboard the boat. It was short and handy, designed to be easy to carry whether walking or on horseback.
“I bought it three or four years ago, when I started planning that fishing trip to Alaska,” Bart had said. “Those hard-cast lead rounds will put down a grizzly. It takes a heavy bullet to penetrate all that bone and muscle, and they oughta to do pretty well on steel too. It’ll make a good boat gun; it’s short and handy, and being stainless, it won’t rust. It’ll make bigger holes in a boat hull than anything else we’ve got, and those rounds should go right through an outboard motor too. Hell, they’ll take out a diesel engine block if you can figure out where it is.”
Eric had no doubt the levergun would be effective, and he liked the feel of it. Bart also had a couple more 12-gauge shotguns; one that was a sporting type automatic and the other a more compact pump-action riot gun with an extended magazine that held eight rounds. Loaded with buckshot, a 12-gauge was a formidable weapon at close range and shooting slugs would from one of those would make big holes in an attacking boat too.
They certainly had what they needed to repel boarders if another boat got that close, but what Eric really wished for was more firepower to engage an approaching vessel at range. The M203 grenade launcher had proven its worth when he and Jonathan had the encounter off Biscayne Bay, even though the round had harmlessly exploded in the water, but it wasn’t exactly a precision weapon when used from a moving boat against a moving target. He was glad to have it and was sure he would be putting it to use, but it would be nice to have a belt-fed M60 or better yet, a deck mounted 50-caliber M2. Eric could have procured those kinds of weapons easily before he left to come back to Florida, but knowing there was only so much he could carry in the kayak during his covert insertion, he’d reluctantly shown some restraint.
Both times he’d approached the river blockade, including that first visit with Jonathan, Eric had scoped out the cluster of fishing boats anchored there without making it obvious. He was looking for just such weaponry, as he knew it was possible that heavier guns would start turning up on civilian vessels. If there were any aboard though, they were covered or disguised, and studying the two trailing boats through the binoculars, he still didn’t see anything of the kind. He could only hope they weren’t packing superior firepower, because it was bad enough that there were two of them, giving them the option to attack from different sides at once. Eric was running through the possible scenarios in his mind, having already switched to full combat mode, even if he wasn’t ready to alarm his entire crew just yet.
“Bart said he was going to teach Andrew and me to shoot,” Daniel said sheepishly, as Eric started up the companionway ladder with the extra M4. “He never got around to it though. He said it would make too much noise. You can blame him that we can’t do anything to help out now.”
“Yeah, I know,” Eric said. “It’s all his fault. I’ll make sure Andrew is down here with you before the shooting starts. Stay as low in the hull as you can, and the two of you should be fine.”
Five
“WHAT ARE YOU GOING to do?” Shauna asked, when she saw Eric climbing back into the cockpit with all the weapons he’d hauled up from below. She had just returned aft from the bow, where Jonathan and Andrew were still lying on the foredeck, trying to reach down and touch one of the broaching dolphins. Eric was already studying the two boats again through his binoculars, but he knew the sight of the M4 with the grenade launcher and bandoliers of
grenades beside it had gotten his ex-wife’s attention, as he hadn’t mentioned to her previously that he had them on board.
“I’m going to keep watching them and keep alert. What else?”
“You said earlier that you didn’t think they were following us. They are though, aren’t they?”
“Yes, I’m afraid so.”
“What do you think they’re waiting for then? If they’re going to try something, why wait?”
“I guess they figure time is on their side, so they’re not in a hurry. Maybe they’re waiting for night, because they’d rather attack in the dark. Who knows? But they’re coming, you can bet on that.”
“Don’t you think you should call them on the radio? You could warn them that we’re armed and that we’ll shoot if they come any closer.”
“It won’t do any good. They probably already assume we’re armed, just not as well as we really are. I don’t want them to know we’re concerned about their presence. The radio is on now just as it’s been ever since we left this morning. If they try to call us and order us to stop or something, we’ll hear it, but I’m not calling them first.”
“I think we should change course,” Bart said. “We can fall off about thirty degrees to the west-southwest for a while and it won’t make any difference in the long run. We can correct it later. A course change will tell us for sure that they’re going to try something, and if we’re on that heading they’ll have the sun right in their eyes when it gets lower on the horizon. They won’t be able to see the details of what we’re doing then, even with binoculars.”
“That’s good thinking, Dad. It won’t be long before it’s at a low enough angle to blind them. We can certainly use that to our advantage.” Eric had already thought of this when he went below to get the weapons. There was no harm in letting Bart take credit for the idea though. His father was an old soldier with combat experience of his own, and he’d taught Eric a lot long before he was old enough to enlist and get his own first taste of battle.
Feral Nation Series: Books 1-3: A Post-Apocalyptic Thriller Series Boxed Set Page 21
