by Jack Walker
Chapter Twenty One
Roaring onward, their boat was bouncing more over the waves as they made rapid progress over the wake of the bigger boat. Ant knew their boat was faster, it was a lot sleeker, but the bigger boat did have a head start on them and it did have much more powerful engines. He was trying to see who the shooter was that had killed his brother, and the motion of their boat was not exactly the best for a stable viewing platform. The three remaining criminals were hanging on tightly; trying not to be thrown about with the pursuit. Water was splashing up into their faces and they could see, but barely; their progress was quickly apparent and they managed to finally get in front of the big boat. That was when he saw her. He blinked and made sure that it was her, and he was now sure. She still wore her uniform, and had that determined look on her face. Dammit but he had not expected this to happen. How could his mother be on board that boat? She was not even supposed to be in New York the last few days. Growling, he had to concede that this just made things more complex, and he would need to tread carefully. Just because she was his mother, she would need to accept the fact that one of them had killed her son, and that would get her angry; no matter what the outcome he would get revenge. They had not left their mother amicably after her accident, and they had known she had still been living in New York.
“Time to slow that train down fellas, we need to get them to stop. If we pull across the front of them they will have to stop, even if the old bitch does not want to, she will. She was soft like that.” he growled at the two remaining henchmen. They complied with his request and pulled in front of the now slowing boat.
“Good, good, just keep it down and we can get you suckers.” Ant whispered to himself quietly, looking at the massive boat slowly come to a halt.
Simon had taken over piloting the boat from George, and then he heard the shot from Dawson’s rifle, and had been shocked by the result of her bullet striking the driver of the other boat. He knew it would be a devastating blow to the following craft, but when he saw the tears start rolling down Dawson’s cheeks; he realised she had just done something either incredibly brave or it would be haunting her for the rest of her life. He did not have time for that now as he watched the other boat overtake them and pull ahead, finally it came to a stop about 500 yards ahead. He slowly reduced speed to come to a halt about 150 yards away from the other boat. He looked grimly at Dawson who had regained some of her stoic composure, and glanced down at George. His bleeding had stopped and he was now being looked at by Ella who had grabbed the first aid kit from below. Dawson pulled him aside quickly, and spoke softly to avoid the others hearing what she said next.
“Those are my estranged sons Simon. I killed my younger son; the driver of the other boat. I Know they are up to no good, and want to talk to my eldest son alone before anything else happens.” she said, looking into Simon’s shocked face. “This needs to be handled now, rather than later.” she said with a grim look on her face. “He better not try anything, I have shown that I will not tolerate bullshit from hi by killing his brother.” She got up, and moved down the ladder to the front of the boat, where she had a good view of the other boat that held her remaining son.
She got to the front, and holding out her rifle for the others to see, she aimed the rifle at them and called out to her son, Ant.
“Son, you got no business here; get away before I do to you what I did to your brother.” she called out across the gap.
“You old Bitch; where is your heart? You killed him?” he called questioningly. “I suspected that you always did have a black heart, but I never thought that you would have the balls to shoot your own child in cold blood. That takes real stones.”
“He had it coming, the little snot nosed prick; always following you like a puppy dog. He could never have an independent idea of his own; could he?” she taunted, seeing Ant’s reaction.
Ant grimaced as her barb hit home; Fred had always been the follower, never the leader. Her words had struck a nerve.
“Dammit Ma; How the hell can you do this, all we want is the weapons. Nothing else!” he shouted angrily, signalling his cronies to take aim from behind the windscreen.
“Ha! I know you too well Ant, you don’t have an honest bone in your body. Try anything and you will die here and now. My sharpshooter is aiming at your dick right now.” She replied vehemently, “Your puissant little brother was in trouble with you from the day you knocked over that savings and loan.”
‘Shitkicker’ he said under his breath, “Yeah well, he at least had fun with me; not like you ever had time, being dragged all over the country to a different base every year.” he taunted, standing tall in the boat. “Tell you what, tell your sniper to take his best shot; my boys are also pretty good shots, and they will probably retaliate with overwhelming force.” he taunted her then, and nodded slightly.
The shot rang out; Dawson had been waiting for it; but she was just that little bit too slow; and the bullet hit her in the upper thigh. As she fell, she steadied her aim, and pulled the trigger; Ant’s head was ripped backward with the force of the bullet exiting his brainpan, his blood and brains spraying out over the two survivors huddled down. They screamed as they felt the sticky wetness hit them in the face, and scrambled overboard in their haste to get away. Forgetting they were in the middle of the harbour, they were soon covered in cold water. She collapsed and grunted in pain as she felt the bullet rip through her thigh muscle; and dropped the rifle to the deck, then clapped a hand to the wound. She screamed in pain and heart rending despair as her final ties with New York were severed. She knew it would be him or her; he had lost the toss of the coin and paid with his life. She sobbed as she lay there, her emotion coming out in her tears; no mother should have to kill her sons, and she had just done that. Her body was wracked with the sobs as she lay there. She felt the pressure of hands on her body, and realised that there was someone trying to help her with the wound, and she rolled over and gave in to the blackness.
Chapter Twenty Two
She woke up in the soft bed, feeling the presence of somebody trying to take her prosthetic off. Looking down she smiled at Judith; reached out for her hand and said to her to undo the buckle first. Judith started; then relaxed as she heard Dawson’s raspy voice, full of emotion and raw. They looked at each other and Judith nodded once, and gently removed the prosthetic leg. Dawson lay there and watched as Judith came to where her head was and softly plumped up the pillows and reached out to stroke her hair.
“It..It must have been hard for you..to do that; I mean, kill your son.” Judith whispered.
“They both deserved it. They were good for nothing layabouts, and I did the world a favour,” Dawson croaked. “Trust me, I know. As much as they were my flesh and blood, they were both not very nice people.”
“What would they have done? I mean, if they had managed to take over our boat?” Judith asked, looking at Dawson with wide eyes. “Surely they had some good inside them?”
“Honey, don’t you waste any time crying for them. They were both weak; always taking the easier path, and got themselves into prison all on their own. I gave up on them a long time ago.” she said firmly; holding Judith’s gaze steadily. “If they had gotten on board; or tried, I would have still shot them all. Let me tell you this, that armed robbery was not the only thing they went to prison for. It was also rape and kidnapping as well.”
At this revelation Judith gasped, as the implication hit her. She grasped Dawson’s hand and squeezed.
“I think we owe you a debt of gratitude then, and we should not mourn their loss at all,” she said softly.
Dawson just shook her head, and held Judith’s hand for a second more then let go. “I need my sleep darling, please tell our intrepid leader that I will live. Tell me, what happened to the other boat?” Dawson asked quickly, hoping Simon had decided to keep it and tow it.
“Simon managed to get across to it, and brought it back. We have it on tow now, and it is a very fast boat by what Geo
rge can tell. He says it is a cigarette boat, whatever that is.” Judith explained. “I gather that is what you wanted to happen?”
“Good, the other two I saw dive overboard? Did they swim away?” she questioned, feeling the pull of sleep. Her eyelids felt suddenly heavy.
“They did get away, and hid behind a wreck about 400 yards off. Simon did not have the heart to kill them.” Judith explained as she got up; seeing Dawson's eyes close as she drifted back to sleep.
Dawson came awake with a start, realising that she had been dreaming; dreaming of her son's, and how they had gone hunting together. They had all gotten separated, and she had eventually found them both; dead, dressed in deer costumes.
'Mind fuck, that's what that was.' she thought as she sat up painfully, feeling her leg throb and looked down at the bandage covering the wound. It still hurt like hell, but she was still alive. She looked around for her prosthetic, and scooted over to get it, then put it back on. Getting up slowly, testing her weight on it she decided she could hobble along and get out of bed. The door opened just as she reached it and in swept Judith.
"What..where do you think you are going? Get back into bed this instant, Dawson." Judith admonished, "Otherwise I might have to tell Simon." She smiled at Dawson, and hugged her. "Feeling better then? You did sleep for 24 hours, so I expect you need to get up and stretch your leg." Judith quipped. "Come on, I'll give you a hand up the steps." Judith said as she took Dawson's weight onto her shoulders. Together they traversed the stairs and opened the passageway door to bright sunlight. The soft swish of waves against the hull of the boat was mesmerising and Dawson stood there gaping. People lay on the deck, not covered in blood; but in as little as possible, soaking up the sun's rays, working on their tans. They were all relaxing; almost as if they were on a pleasure cruise, not out to get away from New York. She could not believe her eyes, it was as if everyone had taken leave of their senses. Simon came over and handed her a cold beer, and smiled at her. He lifted his sunglasses and she screamed as she looked into his dead eyes. He lunged at her with his teeth bared.
She screamed, waking herself up properly. She sat bolt upright looking around frightened out of her wits. Judith came barging in and looked fearfully at Dawson.
"What happened?" she asked with a tremor in her voice, "Did anything happen to your wound?"
"No, it was just a dream, a bit of a nightmare actually." Dawson said as she relaxed. "You are real, aren't you Judith?"
"Silly, of course I am," said Judith, giggling. "It must have been a bad one; you've been asleep nearly 24 hours."
"Ah Shit; I was hoping you were not going to say something like that. C'mere, let me pinch you, then I will know it's really you." She muttered, "Come on, don't be shy." she grinned at Judith.
Sighing, Judith submitted to the pinch, squealed and said to Judith, "Was it bad, the dream; I mean. It must have been because of what you said to me."
"Yeah it was actually, and I hope it never comes true. It involved Simon, and he was one of the infected. We were just lazing in the harbour, and everyone was unconcerned with our predicament." she clarified.
Judith sighed, and hugged Judith. "Not to worry, we have been cruising along, and we are near the Verrazano Narrows Bridge. So far there has been nothing untoward; no infected or anything else like that trying to get at us." Judith explained. "The map is showing us we need to head toward the coast near Garden City; apparently that is where this Island is. So that is our route right now. It is still going to take a while, but George and Simon are being cautious."
Dawson leaned back, and sighed again. Taking Judith's hands in her own, she nodded, and said 'thank you' silently, then lay back. Judith looked at her one last time, and then got up to leave.
"Do you think I have a chance with Simon? I mean his body language says he is; but I am not 100% sure." she asked, apologetically.
Dawson laughed, shook her head and patted the bed; indicating Judith to sit. Judith sat with a sigh, and shrugged her shoulders, looking at Dawson.
"He is crazy about you Judith, of that there is no doubt. He is constantly stealing glances at you all the time. If you have not noticed that, then there is something wrong." Dawson said gently, "He would be stupid not to be attracted to you; you are gorgeous. I might try steal you if you are not careful." Dawson winked playfully at the shocked look on Judith's face.
Judith had never thought of herself as that attractive, but she did know that she was constantly aware of wolf-whistles directed at her previously. She blushed as she felt the squeeze from Dawson, who was so motherly and warm. Her eyes welled up and she started to cry; not just at the events of the last two days, but also at all of the things everyone had lost. Her shoulders heaved as she felt the emotions just overwhelm her. Dawson hugged her close, and planted a kiss on her hair.
"Honey, it is okay; you have us to rely on now. We will be with you. Simon does care for you, just trust me. Okay?" Dawson enquired, as she brushed away the tears from Judith's green eyes. Her heartstrings were being pulled by this lost adorable girl. Her motherly instinct took over and she just hugged Judith again.
"You just need to give yourself a break; you have been going non-stop since we ran into you yesterday. Take a load off and come climb under the covers with me. I promise no hanky-panky. Unless you want to?" she murmured laughingly. "You need a break, and I doubt you have had much sleep the last two days."
Judith shook her head yes; then climbed into the bed and snuggled up to Judith. The warmth and strength of her arms were comforting. She lay down and fell asleep. Dawson looked at the poor girl, and kissed her gently on the forehead; then got out of bed to head upstairs.
Chapter Twenty Three
She got outside to find they were cruising along slowly, Simon poring over the maps; George steering the boat, his arm bandaged up tightly. They had traversed most of New York, and had avoided any debris and boats that were difficult to spot. They had taken a roundabout route; and were now slowly approaching the Verrazano Narrows river bridge. George throttled back in the warm air, and Dawson felt the boat settle down into the water as they drifted to a stop.
"So what is the plan Simon? Are we going to head under the bridge or have you seen something?" Dawson asked softly, making both men jump.
"Jeez Dawson, You gave us a damn fright. You sure you're supposed to be up and about?" Simon said quickly, catching his breath. "Judith was going to look in on you. Where is she?" he asked her, noting her soft expression.
"She is sleeping Simon, she needs the sleep. She is absolutely exhausted. Her head touched my pillow, and Bam; lights out." she explained, but left out the part where Judith had cried on her shoulder. "We had a little chat about a nightmare I had."
"Aah; so I was right, it was you having a dream then." Simon stated, "I asked Judith to go and check on you and make sure you were okay."
"Just a nightmare; nothing serious." she said slowly. "How are things up here?"
"We are close; another mile or two and we can hopefully cross under the bridge with little or no problems. Unless something has happened to it or is has been overrun." Simon stated, "Then we can head out towards the island and hole up there until we know or find out what is happening. We have been trying the radio, but so far nothing."
"I see," she said; looking at the radio on the dashboard. "Maybe we could try a military frequency. Let me have a go at it. I still remember the frequency they should be using."
Simon nodded and watched Dawson sat in the chair next to George. She started moving the dial, trying to dial into the frequency. Her face knotted in concentration, she continued slowly turning the dial. Finally she grinned in triumph as she heard radio chatter blast from the boat's radio.
"Flight Whisky Tango Zulu Fourteen; we need a sitrep please." the voice queried over the handset. Dawson turned the radio volume up, and everyone listened intently.
"Whisky Tango Zulu Fourteen reporting; approaching the Verrazano Narrows Bridge, ordinance ready to deploy." the
y heard the pilot reply. That was when they heard the jet fighter somewhere over head as it dropped in altitude; readying itself for the bombing run.
"Release, Whisky Tango Zulu Fourteen, release. I repeat again; release." the other voice commanded calmly. "The infection is not getting out of New York. The Narrows Bridge is one of the last we have to destroy to contain this outbreak. Verify once destroyed. Out."
The pilot of the F-16 looked out towards the bridge rapidly approaching, and hit the button to deploy the missiles. Streaking out from his wings, the missiles roared out toward the designated point on the bridge. He watched as the missiles hit home; blasting the bridge structure apart, spilling bodies into the water below. The infected had been on the bridge; the pilot realised to his horror. Possibly some had already crossed over. He zoomed over the bridge, trying to maintain a good view of the bridge and the destruction below. That was when he saw the boat; cruising sitting stopped about half a mile back from the remains of the destroyed bridge.
"Whisky Tango Zulu Fourteen; there are some survivors in the narrows on a boat. I repeat, Survivors on a boat." he spoke excitedly into his headset. "Send somebody out to try pick them up. They might need medical attention.
Simon watched as the missiles hit the bridge, then he watched as the jet banked sharply to port; coming round again. They heard the exchange been the pilot and the other voice and cheered. Something was being done by the military. Dawson grinned and clapped George and Simon on their backs. Rescue was now almost imminent, they realised, and all smiled. There was more exchanges, but nobody paid them any heed until Dawson caught the word ‘infected’ and looked at the radio again; paying more attention now.
