There was laughter, followed by a question from his gap-toothed lieutenant.
“What’re you going to do, Spike?” the man asked.
“Oh, I’m gonna pay someone a little visit,” McComb said.
Five minutes later, McComb was squatting on his haunches, sipping water from a plastic bottle as he stared through the bars at Daris Jefferson, leader of the Gangsta Killa Blood set of the United Blood Nation.
“Just wanted to stop by and say goodbye before me and the boys go on jackrabbit parole,” McComb said.
Jefferson glared back, his eyes two burning embers of hatred in an emaciated face. “I see yo keeping yo distance, cracker. Get a little closer, and I’ll beat that smile off yo pasty-ass face.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t want you to get all tuckered out trying, boy. You need to save your strength so it takes a long, long time to die. And here’s a little something to remember me by.” McComb rose from his haunches and leaned in a bit. “I hear thirst is worse than hunger, so while you’re in there dying of thirst, I want you to look at this bottle and think about me.” He hocked up something from deep in his throat and theatrically dripped it from his mouth into the open neck of the half-filled bottle, then set the bottle on the floor out of reach. “In a few days, you’ll be looking at this bottle and dreaming of drinking my spit, and when you do, remember I wouldn’t piss on you if you were on fire.” McComb grinned. “So enjoy the rest of your miserable life, Buckwheat.”
Jefferson tried to spit in McComb’s face, but he was so dehydrated he had no saliva, and the failed effort looked almost as if he were blowing a kiss. McComb’s laughter echoed through the half-empty cell block as he walked away, eager to make his mark in what he knew would be a predator’s paradise.
Chapter Twelve
Borough Road
South of Currie, NC
Day 13, 2:00 a.m.
Levi kept the lights off and avoided the brakes as he kept Old Blue at a steady forty miles an hour, the county road an eerie green in his night-vision goggles. Anthony road shotgun, literally, with his trusty old shotgun upright between his knees, squeezed against the passenger door by the presence of Bill Wiggins and Tex in the center of the bench seat. The old truck wasn’t designed for four passengers.
They’d gotten back to the fishing camp just before dusk, and Levi was pretty sure only the presence of strangers had saved him and Anthony from a dressing-down from Celia and Josephine. Despite the women’s restrained anger over the longer-than-promised absence, they were both far too gracious to make guests feel uncomfortable by venting their anger. And the kids had been excited and happy about anything that broke up what, for them, was becoming a very boring existence.
Levi and Anthony had debated the wisdom of bringing the Coast Guard boat all the way into their hideaway, but in the end, there was just too much cargo to be shifted to allow for any other solution. Concerned about giving offense, but more worried about security, they’d discussed their concerns with Chief Butler, who, to their relief, was not at all offended. He’d volunteered to pilot the Coast Guard boat himself and brought along his most trusted subordinate, assuring both Levi and Anthony the secret of their location was safe.
That only left Wiggins and Tex, and though he trusted them completely, there was always the chance they might run in with bad people and be forced or coerced into revealing the source of the ample supplies they were carrying. But they couldn’t reveal what they didn’t know. Levi glanced to his right, past his two ex-shipmates to where Anthony rode at the passenger door, looking insect-like in his own set of NV goggles.
“I’m sorry we only had two sets of night-vision glasses,” Levi said, “but since Anthony’s riding shotgun, I figured he needed them.”
“No problem,” Wiggins said, “though I have to say, riding down the road in the pitch dark is a pretty uncomfortable feeling.”
Beside him, Tex laughed. “I’ll say.”
“We’ll be there soon,” Levi said.
True to his word, a few minutes later Levi pulled into the long gravel drive of the five acres he and Celia shared with her parents, and eased down between the two houses to the barn. As Anthony exited the truck wordlessly to open the barn door, Levi looked around the property in the green glow of the NV goggles and wondered again if the move to the river had been premature. After all, it had been almost two weeks since the power went out, and the place seemed undisturbed. Then he shook his head again. Country road or not, it was still a paved road that saw traffic, and the houses were just too visible and hard to defend. No, moving to the river was the right call.
“Are we there?” Tex asked.
“Oh, yeah, sorry,” Levi said. “I forgot you guys can’t see. Anthony’s opening the barn door now, and when we get inside, we’ll crank up a couple of lanterns.”
Anthony swung the barn door wide, and Levi nosed the car into the barn beside an SUV.
“Everybody out,” Levi said as Anthony closed the barn door and walked over to take down two lanterns from where they hung on nails in the wall. In moments, light filled the barn, accompanied by the soft hiss of the lanterns. Wiggins and Tex blinked in the light and checked out the SUV, a ten-year-old Toyota Highlander that looked showroom new.
“That’s still some gift, Levi,” Wiggins said.
“Don’t worry about it,” Levi said. “Like I said before, it’s not really as generous as you think. Everything’s running now, but when all these newer cars and planes and helicopters and what have you start breaking down, there won’t be any fixing them, at least not easily. They’re all just about impossible to work on without sophisticated diagnostic equipment. We’re much better off keeping the old, simple cars we can work on ourselves. I’ve got no problem letting shipmates use something we’re likely to have little use for anyway. That’s all.” Levi tapped the map with his finger. “Now, we got a lot to go over, and Anthony and I want to be back in the woods before daylight, so let’s get to it.”
Tex and Wiggins moved beside Levi as he pointed at the map. “You need to stay off the main roads and get near the Appalachian Trail as soon as possible. That’s likely going to be the most dangerous part, because the AT doesn’t start paralleling the Blue Ridge Parkway until just north of Roanoke, Virginia. I’ve traced out a route on the North Carolina map from here to Linnville, where you can pick up the Blue Ridge Parkway north. It’s about three hundred miles, which you could make in six hours in normal times, but now, who knows? However, I figure if you leave at first light and given the lengthening days, you ought to get to the parkway before dark. I’ve tried to keep you on secondary roads, so they should be okay, but whoever isn’t driving needs to be looking at the county maps I’ve included so if you find a problem, you can get around it. Always be thinking of a plan B before you need it, understand?”
Both the travelers nodded and Levi continued. “You’ll intersect the AT the first time about two hundred miles up the Blue Ridge Parkway at a little place called Black Horse Gap. Then the two routes stay more or less together until the parkway ends about a hundred miles north at Afton, Virginia. It actually doesn’t ‘end,’ though. It just turns into another scenic road called Skyline Drive that continues a hundred miles or so to Front Royal. The AT parallels Skyline Drive as well. After that, you’ll have to pick out secondary roads, logging roads, etc., that parallel the AT.” He paused. “And just to be clear, I use the term ‘parallel’ loosely. Actually the AT cuts back and forth across these and the other roads you’ll use to head north, but in some places it might veer away from the nearest road by ten or twenty miles. So this is important, ALWAYS know where the access points to the AT are, and how far it is back to the last one you passed, and how far it is ahead to the next one.”
“Uhh … isn’t this a little overkill, Levi?” Wiggins asked. “I mean, striking off on foot into the woods is about the last thing I want to do. We just want to get home.”
“And I’m trying to make sure you get there, Bill,” Levi said. “If thi
ngs are as bad as I think and y’all run into trouble, hoofing it into the woods might be your only option. Also, that little AT guidebook lists locations where you can find good water, which may be like liquid gold, and all of the land the AT traverses is mostly state or national forest, which means there will be plenty of game if you end up needing it, ‘cause you sure as hell will need to avoid grocery stores, assuming there are any that haven’t been stripped.”
“Is that even legal?” Wiggins asked, and Levi saw Tex suppress a smile. Anthony was less restrained.
“Seriously?” he snorted. “You think there are still game wardens running around, worried about folks shooting rabbits?”
Wiggins’ face reddened in the lamplight. “I guess not. Stupid comment. Sorry.”
Levi shook his head. “No need to apologize, and I know I’m coming on strong, but you need to understand the AT’s your lifeline and your ‘Mega Plan B.’ ‘Cause I got a sneaking suspicion you both, but you especially, Bill, are so worried about your families that as soon as you roll out of that driveway, you’re thinking about heading north by the most direct route possible, caution be damned.”
No one spoke and the uncomfortable silence grew.
“All right, I’ll admit it,” Wiggins said. “Tex and I’ve been considering some other routes.”
“Well, stop considering them,” Levi said, “because they’ll likely get you killed.”
Tex sighed. “How long you figure, Levi?”
“Getting you to Jersey, four or five days, and that much longer for Bill to get to Maine, assuming you can drive the whole way.”
“Ten days! That can’t be right,” Wiggins said. “Even at thirty miles an hour on this convoluted path, I should be able to make it to Maine in three or four days tops, driving straight through.”
“But you’re not going straight through, because we’ve got no night vision to give you, and driving at night lit up like a Christmas tree is an invitation to be ambushed,” Levi said. “Any bad guys can see you coming a long, long way off, and way before you know they’re even there. You’re gonna plan each day’s trip, including a stopping point, and get there in plenty of time to check out the site, hide the car, and make camp away from the road so, if you need a fire, neither it or what you’re cooking can be seen or smelled.” Levi paused for emphasis. “Now get this straight. If you’re not moving, you’re hiding. You’re most vulnerable when you’re stationary, and you need to act accordingly.”
Both Wiggins and Tex nodded slowly, resigned rather than enthusiastic, and Levi walked over to Old Blue and returned with a small backpack. He fished in the pack and produced an automatic pistol in a holster as well as what looked like a plastic rifle stock and laid both on top of the road map spread over the hood of the SUV. Several boxes of ammunition followed.
“Either of you have any experience with handguns?” Levi asked.
“I’ve been to the range a few times,” Wiggins said.
“Uhh … actually, I used to shoot competitively,” Tex said.
Levi reached for the Glock. He ejected the magazine then racked the slide back and left the action open before handing the nine millimeter pistol to Tex. “Winner, winner, chicken dinner,” he said. “Tex will carry the main defensive armament when you’re outside the vehicle. When you’re moving, whoever isn’t driving will have the pistol out and ready.”
Tex nodded, and Levi and Anthony watched with approval as she examined the pistol expertly, closed the action, and then checked and inserted the magazine before checking out the holster. Wiggins was looking less sure, instinctively reacting to a perceived slight to his manhood.
“This is perfect, actually,” Levi said. “Tex, that’s a small-of-the-back holster. Do you have an overshirt you can wear with the tail out?” Tex nodded and Levi looked back and forth between Tex and Wiggins. “Good. If you’re attacked by surprise, it will likely be when you’re out of the car, and any attackers are unlikely to perceive Tex as a threat. They’ll move on Bill first, and that may give you the edge.”
Wiggins nodded, on board now, and then pointed toward the plastic rifle stock. “And what’s that?”
Levi picked up the plastic stock and pried a rubber boot off the butt, revealing various items stored neatly inside. “This is a Henry survival rifle, which will bring home the bacon, or more likely the rabbit, if you need it.”
Levi deftly assembled the little rifle in seconds, and then pointed out the two small magazines.
“It’s a twenty-two-caliber semiautomatic and it comes with two eight-round magazines. I suggest you keep both fully loaded at all times. You’ll notice there’s a good supply of two different types of ammo. The stuff in the blue box is ‘quiet’ loads, reduced power for low noise, but it’s fine for taking small game at any distance you’ll likely be shooting. The advantage is if you DO have to hunt, the gunshots won’t draw attention to you. The downside is these rounds don’t have enough recoil to cycle the bolt, so when you’re shooting them, the rifle isn’t semiautomatic—you’ll have to cycle the bolt manually between shots. The other ammo is regular twenty-two long rifle, and if you have to use the rifle for defense, that’s what you need to use. A twenty-two doesn’t have much stopping power, but in semiautomatic mode, it can at least make someone think twice about charging you. But like I said, it’s mainly a hunting weapon.”
“What’s with the red dot?” Wiggins pointed to one of the magazines.
“I was getting to that,” Levi said. “I put a dot of nail polish on one, so you could tell the mags apart in an emergency, and I loaded the one with the red dot with the regular rounds and the other one with the low-noise rounds. I suggest you maintain that so you can switch out quickly if needed.”
“Sound’s good,” Wiggins said, “but to be honest, I hope I don’t have to use either.”
“I do too,” Levi said, “and if everything goes well, you won’t. The gas tank’s full, and you’ve got fifty gallons in Jerry cans. I don’t like to see you carrying all that gas inside the car, but there really isn’t an option. You got food and water for twelve days, a bit longer if you need to stretch it. I’ve also packed both of you ‘escape packs,’ because if you do have to abandon the car and haul ass, you likely will be doing it under duress. Mostly it’s food, gallon ziplock bags full of crushed noodles and pasta for carbs, nuts for fat, and jerky for protein, along with three liter camel packs of water and a small bottle of bleach for disinfecting water if need be. I also threw in some other odds and ends, which you’ll figure out if you need it, lighters, space blankets, paracord, stuff like that. Don’t mess with the bags, just keep them handy. And don’t forget to take the AT guide, maps, and ammo—”
Wiggins smiled and held up his hand to stop Levi. “You know you told us all this before, Levi. I think we have it. Really.”
Levi hesitated. “Well, okay. Let’s get the stuff loaded, then.”
There were nods all around, and the group began transferring the supplies from Old Blue to the Toyota. Fifteen minutes later, the task was complete, and everyone stood silently in the middle of the barn, reluctant to part ways.
Anthony broke the silence. “Well, good luck and God’s speed.”
Tex stepped over and wrapped him in a hug. “You take care of these folks, Anthony,” she whispered into his ear, and Anthony squeezed her tight before she let him go and transferred her embrace to Levi. “Thank you, shipmate,” she said softly, and Levi only nodded, unable to speak.
Tex let go of Levi and stepped back to let the men exchange handshakes.
“Oh yeah,” Levi said, extracting a piece of paper from his pocket, “I almost forgot. These are the radio frequencies we worked out with the Pecos Trader and the Coasties in Wilmington, as well as the times we’ll all be listening and some security codes. When you get home, try to let us know you got there safely and then keep in touch.”
Wiggins and Tex nodded, and after another short awkward silence, Wiggins spoke. “I’ll kill the lanterns.”
&n
bsp; “I’ll get the barn door,” Tex added, and Levi and Anthony got into the cab of Old Blue.
Ten minutes later, Levi was driving through the darkness, lost in thought, when he felt Anthony’s hand on his shoulder.
“Don’t you fret, Levi,” the older man said. “You did all you could.”
“Let’s just hope it was enough,” Levi said.
M/V Pecos Trader
Florida Strait
Day 13, 2:00 p.m.
Hughes pressed the binoculars to his eyes and strained to make out more detail of the line of white marking the ocean’s surface to the east, where the gentle swell was breaking over a barely submerged reef.
He heaved a sigh of relief and lowered the glasses. “I think that’s Elbow Cay behind us, so at least I can scratch running aground off my list of things to worry about today.”
Beside him, Chief Matt Kinsey chuckled. “Which still makes the list pretty long, I imagine.”
“You mean like staying as far away from the US coast as possible and hugging the Bahamian shallows, with absolutely no working navigational aids while simultaneously hoping to avoid detection by US radar and stay clear of Cuban waters?”
“Well, you’re two for two, so far,” Kinsey said. “You’ve managed to avoid grounding in Bahamian waters, despite lack of navaids, and my Coast Guard folks haven’t hailed us yet, so I’m thinking that’s a good indication the alert from the navy at Jacksonville got lost in the confusion.”
“Yeah, I have to say I’m pleasantly surprised,” Hughes said. “What do you make of that?”
Kinsey shrugged. “I’m thinking everybody’s shorthanded. If they haven’t hailed us by now, we might have a shot at sliding by unnoticed, as long as we stay as far south as possible.”
“I’m thinking the same thing,” Hughes said. “All in all, I’m starting to feel a lot better about this.”
Under a Tell-Tale Sky: Disruption - Book 1 Page 17
