Yellowstone: Fallout: A Post-Apocalyptic Survival Thriller (The Yellowstone Series Book 3)

by Bobby Akart

  Ashby drove the Escalade around the corner toward the Wheeler home hoping not to draw the attention of any neighbors. Just as she approached Bella Vista to make the turn toward their house, she saw Mike’s bullet-riddled pick up speed past her in the opposite direction. While she was relieved he didn’t give the Escalade a second glance, her instincts told her that he was headed for the Kennedy’s home.

  Ashby turned onto Bella Vista and mashed the gas, thrusting the heavy Cadillac forward. They didn’t have much time.

  She drove directly onto their hard-packed, pea gravel driveway and slammed onto the brakes at the front door. She rolled down the windows, hoping Jake would emerge and when he didn’t, she turned the big truck around so that it was headed out.

  Ashby popped the rear hatch and ran to the front door which was locked. She didn’t have a key.

  She looked around and darted through the hedges into the courtyard and tried the sliding glass doors. They, too, were locked. Where is he?

  “Hey!” said Jake.

  Ashby shrieked.

  “Ashby, what’s wrong? Where did you get this —?”

  She quickly interrupted him. “They’re coming, Jake. I’m sure of it. This is Ken’s. We need to load up as much as we can and leave. Now!”

  “Okay. Okay.” Jake remained calm as he quickly hugged a trembling Ashby. “Back the truck up to the garage door. I was in the process of loading up the Mustang. We’ll just move it all to the Escalade. Won’t they notice it’s missing?”

  “I’ve got that covered and will explain on the way.”

  “To where?”

  “Come on, Jake. Mike is on his way to Stephanie’s now and he’ll be here next.”

  Ashby ran past him and jumped in the front of the truck. With the driver’s door still open, she lurched forward, causing it to almost slam on her foot. Then she spun the tires slightly as she jammed it in reverse and backed the truck toward the garage, almost hitting the roof with the open tailgate.

  Jake began hurling luggage and bundles of towels held together with bungee cords. Ashby quickly helped him and within two minutes, everything was loaded and the tailgate was slammed shut.

  “Let’s roll,” said Jake as headed for the driver’s seat. Ashby ran and grabbed his arm.

  “No. Let me drive. They’ll be looking for you to leave. Lay down in the backseat and I’ll get us out of here.”

  Jake nodded and slid into the back. He reached over the seat and grabbed his M-16. As Ashby pulled away from his parent’s house, he didn’t bother to look back, just like the last time he left.

  Ashby restrained herself by keeping a normal speed as they passed the swimming club. She glanced at the parking lot and the club front doors, relieved that there was no activity. She exhaled and then turned on the main drive to head toward the gate.

  “There are three cars lined up at the exit. They’re talking to each driver before letting them go.”

  “You’ve got this, Ashby. Stay cool.”

  Jake readied his weapon just in case. Then he drew his .45 and cocked the hammer. He reached his hand over the seat and nudged Ashby’s shoulder.

  “Use mine, just in case. It’ll stop them if there’s a problem.”

  Ashby tapped the steering wheel, nervously checking her rear-view mirror. She was the next in line.

  “Dammit!” she exclaimed as she noticed Mike’s truck speed past the entrance in the direction of their house. “Mike’s been to Stephanie’s and now he’s headed to our place.”

  “Can you blow past them? Drive around?”

  “No. Wait, they’re moving.”

  Jake gripped his rifle and prepared to jump up if necessary. Ashby rolled down her window and spoke to the guard.

  “Good afternoon.”

  “Ma’am, where are you headed today?”

  “I’m running an errand for Mrs. Kennedy,” Ashby confidently replied. She slid the handgun into her lap and turned her body slightly toward the guard.

  The other guard began to walk around the front of the truck and Ashby immediately became concerned that he’d be able to see through the dark tinted windows into the back seat. She continued.

  “She is quite distraught, and her regular physician has some medication for her. Ordinarily, Ken would get it for her, but you know.” Her voice trailed off as if she was concerned for the missing man.

  The guard looked around and his partner had made his away to the passenger door, dangerously close to the rear window. Ashby let off the brake slightly, which allowed the idling engine to carry the truck forward slightly. The intentional mishap had the desired effect as the other guard jumped away from the truck. She played the role of the ditzy blonde.

  “Oh, I am so sorry. Stephanie loaned me her truck and I’m not used to the brake petal. My foot slipped off. Silly me.”

  “Ma’am, you need to be more careful,” said the guard as his partner elected to keep his distance. “Are sure you’ll be safe out there alone? We can get you an escort, since your trip is for Mrs. Kennedy.”

  “No, that won’t be—.”

  Before she could finish her sentence, she heard the roar of a vehicle coming up behind her and with the horn blaring. The guard stepped away from the Escalade to see what the commotion was. Ashby already knew as the front end of the black pickup truck came into view.

  “Gotta go, see ya’!” she exclaimed.

  She didn’t hesitate as she pushed the gas pedal to the floor and sped through the gates, knocking them open until they bounced off their hinges. She wasn’t sure which way to turn so she went east toward the interstate. Her goal at this point was to escape.

  Shots rang out as the men fired upon their truck. Jake shouted, “Open the rear hatch.”

  “But,” Ashby tried to object but Jake shouted again.

  “Open it!”

  He raised up onto his knees and readied his rifle. While the rear hatch slowly opened on its pneumatic hinges, Jake rolled down the rear windows. He needed the sound to escape as he opened fire on the men who were running down the road in pursuit of the Escalade. Although they were firing wildly and missing their mark, Jake needed to shut down their efforts. Two short four round bursts from the M-16 sent them diving for cover.

  He turned around and studied their position. “Where did you say we were going?”

  “Moss Landing. It’s a marina on Monterey Bay.”

  “I’ve been there,” said Jake as the thought for a moment. “Does Stephanie know we’re going there?”

  “Yes.”

  “Okay, we have to assume Mike and his guys will know that too.”

  “Mike was coming toward the gate. Jake, do you wanna drive? We can pull over real quick.”

  “You drive. Mike may catch up to us. If he does, I’ve got something for him.” Jake turned around and squinted as he tried to look into the distance for any trailing vehicles. Satisfied they were in the clear for now, he directed Ashby by leaning forward and resting his arms on the top of the front seat. He pointed to their left.

  “There’s the Walgreens and Family Dollar we broke into the other night.”

  “Why did you guys burn it out?”

  “What?” asked Jake.

  Ashby was looking in her side mirror as they passed. “Look at the front entrance.”

  The front glass of Walgreens had blown out and the charred window casings indicated a fire destroyed the interior.

  “That wasn’t us,” said Jake. He turned around one more time to make sure they weren’t being pursued. He tapped Ashby on the shoulder and pointed to the right. “Turn onto the ramp and stop while I close the rear hatch. We’ll take the Santa Cruz Highway for about twenty miles and then turn off along the coast.”

  When he returned, Ashby sped up the ramp. “Aren’t we going to get slowed down by people fleeing south?”

  “No, they’d take the one-oh-one. This road dead ends at Santa Cruz and then we’ll take the Cabrillo Highway to Moss Landing.”

  “You’ve got a g
reat memory,” said Ashby as she reached for his hand. “Do you wanna hear the plan?”

  “Might as well,” he said with a laugh.

  Chapter 46

  South of Saratoga, California

  “At this point, we have two options,” began Ashby. “One if by land, two if by sea.” Jake released her hand so she could drive. She had a heavy foot and the highway was littered with stalled cars. This was the first time Ashby had driven Jake anywhere and her speed made him nervous.

  “There’s nobody behind us,” said Jake, subtly suggesting that she could slow down. Ashby looked at him in the rearview mirror and then checked her side mirrors, too.

  “You don’t know that. Besides, what’s your point.”

  “I’m just saying that they’ve probably given up on us so we don’t need to go eighty miles an hour through this parking lot of a freeway.”

  Ashby checked her speed, wiped the sweat off her palms, and slowed down to a more reasonable seventy miles per hour, which was still too fast for Jake’s comfort, but an improvement nonetheless.

  “Two if by sea must mean we have a boat option.”

  Ashby looked down into the front seat and grabbed the file folder containing the information on Ken’s motor yacht. She handed it to Jake.

  “Oh, you can have this back too.” She held the sidearm by the barrel with two fingers as if the gun were a dead rat.

  Jake took them both, returned the .45 safely to its holster and began to thumb through the paperwork.

  “Ashby, this boat is incredible.”

  “I saw a picture of it on the wall of Ken’s study the other day, and then studied it today when I was getting Stephanie drunk.”

  “You did what?”

  “She was already tipsy when I arrived and started spewing all this dirty laundry about Ken. I thought about the boat and the opportunity during the conversation to go for the gusto, so I did.”

  “The gusto?”

  “Yeah, the whole enchilada. You know. I went there hoping to score this truck. I got the truck and the keys to the boat.”

  Jake laughed at Ashby’s recollection of her efforts. She was clearly proud of what she’d accomplished.

  “I get it. We can just keep the truck and keep motoring south, or we can take what’s behind door number two. The boat, as you call it.”

  “Well, that’s what it is.”

  “No, Ashby, this thing is more than a boat. A boat is something you go fishing in or ski behind on a lake. This is a full-blown yacht. Sixty-feet worth, as a matter of fact. It’ll be like driving a building.”

  “So, what’s the differenece? This Escalade is bigger than the Jeeps I liked to drive. You turn it on, point it in the right direction, and give it the gas. I really do like the power of this thing.”

  Jake looked over her shoulder again and noticed she’d inched back up to eighty. He shook his head and fumbled around for the seatbelts.

  “I’m not afraid of it,” he continued. “I’ve never been on a boat this size, much less driven one.”

  Ashby looked in the rear-view mirror again as they approached Santa Cruz. They were making good time.

  “I’ll drive the boat, if you want.”

  “No, that’s okay,” Jake shot back, perhaps a little too quickly. “I’ll figure it out.”

  Ashby slowed as the highway ended at Santa Cruz. “Now what, Mr. Navigator?”

  Jake slid forward again. The leather seats were covered in Armor All, causing them to be slippery. “Take the ramp for Highway 1 South. Then it’s a straight shot to Moss Landing.

  Jake studied the sales brochure from Grand Banks Yachts. Ken had purchased the top of the line Grand Banks Skylounge model which was sixty-five feet long from bow to stern, although the deck measured sixty feet. The nearly twenty-foot width made for a stable ride on rough waters like the Pacific Ocean. The best part was the twenty-five-hundred nautical mile fuel range.

  “Can we handle it?” asked Ashby.

  “Oh yeah, with a little on the job training,” replied Jake. “I wish the operating manual was in this folder. There’s nothing about how to make it run.”

  “We’ll figure it out. Wow!” Ashby’s sudden change in tone startled Jake. “I’ve never been near this part of the Pacific Coast. It reminds me of Oregon.”

  “Yeah, the cliffs are incredible. I’ve always preferred the Northern California coastline to the overcrowded beaches of SoCal.”

  “We’re almost there, methinks,” said Ashby as a small marina came into view. They crossed the bridge at Elkhorn Slough and saw the crashing surf at the entrance channel to Moss Landing. Monterey Bay opened up before them and the freedom of the open seas.

  Chapter 47

  Moss Landing

  Monterey Bay, California

  As Ashby turned into the marina entrance, a few onlookers stopped their conversations and watched the Escalade approach a parking spot marked 15-Minute Loading Zone. Ashby began to back into the space, as Jake asked if she knew where the boat’s slip was located.

  “I have no idea. There are a lot more docks here than I expected.”

  Jake leaned forward and showed Ashby the brochure. “Here’s what it looks like. How many boats this size could be parked here?”

  Ashby put the truck in park and turned to look at the marina and its vessels. There were over six-hundred slips on multiple docks, many of which held large motor yachts like the Kennedy’s.

  “Apparently, quite a few,” she quipped. “We may have to split up until we find it.”

  “Do you know what she’s named?”

  “She?’

  “Yeah, boats are always referred to as she,” replied Jake.

  “But you said this wasn’t a boat.”

  “Ashby,” Jake gritted his teeth as if he was delivering a rebuke to a child.

  Ashby giggled.

  “Do you know the name of this motor yacht?” Jake asked, making sure to use the correct terminology.

  “Titan Uranus.”

  Jake got ready to open the rear passenger door and then he froze. “What did you say?”

  “She,” Ashby replied with emphasis before continuing, “is called Titan Uranus.”

  “Would you stop screwing around?” Jake complained.

  Ashby was laughing hysterically. “Okay. Okay. She’s called My Wet Dream.”

  Jake slammed his hand on the back seat. “Stop it. This is serious. We’ve got to find this bo—. Motor yacht. Whatever!” He was flustered.

  “No, I’m serious this time. Ken was a known adulterer. He seriously named his boat, My Wet Dream.”

  “Unbelievable,” muttered Jake as he exited the truck. Ashby followed suit and locked the door as they developed a plan to spread out in search of My Wet Dream.

  They ran in two different directions with a plan to meet back in the middle. Jake took the docks that extended deepest into the marina near Monterey Bay. He assumed the largest vessels would be kept away from the smaller pleasure craft.

  As he jogged down the concrete docks, he saw Ashby keeping pace on a parallel dock, her head on a swivel as she looked for the name of the motor yacht, rather than the vessel itself.

  Jake arrived at the end of the first dock and quickly pivoted to return. The marina was laid out in a series of fingers extending along a man-made breakwater of large rubble. He returned to the starting point and picked up the pace as curious boaters followed his progress. Soon, several people were gathering on the docks to watch Jake and Ashby search for Ken’s motor yacht.

  “Jake!” Ashby called out his name, but he couldn’t see her. “Got it!”

  That’s all he needed to hear as he raced back to the entrance to the marina. The two of them arrived at the same time and quickly retrieved two dock carts to help tote their belongings. Meanwhile, the crowd of curiosity-seekers was growing.

  “Where is it?” Jake asked.

  Ashby bent over, out of breath. She handed Jake both sets of keys and pointed over her shoulder. “Almost to the e
nd of B-dock, slip one-eighty-eight.”

  Jake opened the rear hatch and began loading the weapons into the two carts. He placed duffle bags on top to mask the towel-covered bundles.

  “Are you ready?” he asked, helping Ashby to stand upright.

  She nodded. “Yeah, let’s go.”

  They pulled the single-axle carts to nearly the end of the dock. The Grand Banks 60 filled the extra wide berth with little room to spare, barely allowing the large bumpers which gave it a snug fit.

  Jake stepped onto the transom and held his hand out to steady Ashby as she stepped on as well. “I’m gonna unload our gear onto the back. All I need you to do is set it over the half-wall and onto the deck.”

  “Okay.”

  Jake added. “But, keep your eyes open. We’re getting a lot of attention from the locals.”

  Jake quickly unloaded the carts and began to jog back to the truck with one cart stacked on top of the other. He calculated on his previous run that he could finish unloading with one more trip.

  He emptied the Escalade, rolled down the windows, and left the keys in the ignition. It had served its purpose.

  He began the awkward trek back to the motor yacht. He couldn’t walk quickly because the carts had a mind of their own when being pulled with one hand. He had to focus on keeping them straight or they might topple over, spilling their supplies and clothing onto the dock.

  “Jake! Hurry!”

  Jake instinctively looked behind him and didn’t see any need to rush. He tried to pick up the pace, but as predicted, the two carts began to crash into each other. He had to maintain the slower pace.

  Ashby shouted again. “They’re coming!”

  Jake continued but his eyes darted in all directions. As he moved closer to the slip, he glanced across the water toward Highway 1. Three vehicles were approaching at a high rate of speed, led by Mike’s black pickup truck.

  Jake parked one of the carts and ran forward with the other. Ashby was waiting on the dock for him. He left the first cart with her and ran back to the other one. She’d unloaded and then rolled the cart off into the water on the other side of the dock.

  “This might buy us a little time,” she said as she unloaded the cart. “Go start us up and I’ll untie the dock lines.”