Seeking a Sane Society: Nothing is the Same (The Seeking Series Book 2)

by Albert A. Correia

  “From what Mary tells us, he has his eye on an actual dictatorship.” Madruga shook his head.

  “Larry, you couldn’t have timed this meeting any better. We have a lot of work to do. . . and fast. It sounds like it won’t be long before they’ll be taking over Ted’s ranch.”

  “They’re not getting my place;” West stated firmly. “It’s mine, and I have the papers to prove it.”

  “Ted,” Campbell said, “you heard what they’re planning. Those papers will be worthless.”

  “Any court in the land will back me,” West argued.

  Campbell spoke quietly, shaking his head. “Ted, there are no courts. They’re all gone.”

  West pushed his chair back and jumped to his feet. “If there are no courts, then there’s no place to try me for killing that lousy. . . ” He looked at Mary and didn’t finish the sentence.

  “If you put a bullet in his head, I’ll turn my head and not see it,” said Madruga. “I don’t want you to get killed, though, and that’s what will happen if you go after him. He’s got some pretty nasty guys guarding him day and night.”

  “Which gets us back to the original purpose of this meeting,” Campbell said. “There are still honest people alive in the valley. We need to get them together and find a way to get rid of Silva and his gang. We have to get things back in working order.”

  “Can you start printing a newspaper again?” asked Madruga.

  “Not the way we used to, either print or digital. I am working on an old-fashioned copy machine kind of thing, though. The problem is, I need to run a generator for power, and it will be heard all around the area – including the Tracy Inn.

  “We can run it at my ranch,” West said. “There’s no one around for miles.”

  “That would be great, Ted,” Campbell said. Hiding a smile, he added, “As long as it’s yours.”

  West sat again, but was just as determined as he had been while standing. “It will always be mine,” he stormed.

  “Just making sure you’re as strong-willed as ever,” Campbell said. “There’ll be no room for a moment’s hesitation going up against what we’ll be facing in the coming months.”

  “You’ve known me for over forty years,” West reminded the newspaperman. “Have you ever seen me back down when it mattered?”

  “He hasn’t, and neither have I,” said Madruga. “None of us do. That’s why we’re the nucleus of what has to be a super-human effort to bring sanity back to this area.”

  Although in different grades, Madruga being one year older than Campbell is and West one year younger, the three had known each other since elementary school. They didn’t become friends until after high school, however. All three were active in civic, business, and social organizations and they found they had many of the same interests. None was more important than the current one.

  “My ‘newspaper’ is going to be more of a flyer, a call to arms,” Campbell said. “It will have to be hand delivered, partly because there’s no other way, but also because we don’t want Silva to know what’s happening. Ted, how many farmers do you think are still alive in the San Joaquin Valley?”

  “Up to thirty-five or forty percent,” West replied. “That would be several hundred. They all had food and supplies on their farms when the disaster struck. Most are hunters, so they were in a position to fight off the hoodlums that tried to rob them. If the war didn’t get them, they’re still around.”

  “Can you get my flyer to them?”

  “Absolutely. My sons, a neighbor, and I can reach them all. We’ll talk to everybody. Twist an arm or two if we have to, but I think that won’t be necessary.”

  “There’s not near that percentage left alive in town,” Madruga said, “but I guess there are three or four hundred folks who survived. The same is probably true in Mountain House and other towns in a thirty-mile radius. I can reach the people here and in Mountain House, and I’m sure I can find people who will talk to people in other towns. What is it we need to talk to them about?”

  “My thinking is that there was an election to grab power, so we need to have another one to take it away. The difference is, we will allow everyone to vote, including them.”

  “That would be a good idea,” West replied, his mind turning, “if Silva and his gang weren’t what they are. They’ll never allow others to vote.”

  “Not on purpose,” Madruga agreed, “but what if everyone is armed? Your farmers have guns, right?”

  “Yes, and they know how to use them,” West concurred.

  “Manuel, can you get weapons for the city people who don’t have them?” Campbell asked the police chief.

  “That was what I was thinking,” Madruga replied. “I can get several hundred, and some people have their own.”

  “Would the ones who don’t have their own know how to use them?” West wondered.

  “It’s amazing what people are capable of if their lives depend on it,” Madruga replied. “I’ll give some lessons out by the city dump to make sure they hit the bad guys if it comes to that.”

  “Okay, we’re in agreement on what has to be done,” Campbell stated. “We’ll need to meet several more times to work out the details. Things have changed since I first called this meeting, though.”

  “Yes,” Madruga replied, as though reading his friend’s mind, “now, there’s a deadline. We have to get it done before Silva has solidified his power.”

  “We don’t know when that will be,” West pointed out.

  “We need to keep tabs on what he and his people are doing,” Madruga said.

  The men sat and thought for a few moments. Then, almost in unison, they turned to Mary, who was sitting so quietly it was as if she wasn’t even there. Suddenly, she was the center of attention.

  “What?” she begged to know, her eyes widening. “Oh, my God,” she cried when she realized what they were going to ask of her.

  * * * * *

  Chapter 11

  TWO boats pulled into a small cove just before the end of the land mass that jutted out about midway up Catalina’s southwest coast. They could not see the entrance to Catalina Harbor, so it was reasonable to assume that anyone there couldn’t see them, either. They would be able to sneak, undetected, up to the hill overlooking the harbor.

  There were no real beaches along that part of the coast, but the little cove allowed them to pull up so that the bows of the boats rested on dirt. They were careful not to rev up the engines, keeping the noise level down. The sounds of a tractor operating on a hill at Two Harbors covered the little noise they did make. Eight men from each boat jumped off the bows into brush, dirt, and rocks. Small waves wet some of their lower legs, but the water didn’t disrupt anyone’s landing.

  Six of the sixteen intruders carried hand-held rocket launchers – bazookas. The rockets propelled from them were powerful enough to pierce five inches of steel. Three men carried AK-47s, and four carried long-barreled rifles with scopes. All seven carried ammo, and the remaining three men, the last ones off the boat, carried duffle bags with rockets and more ammo magazines.

  If it came to it, they could fight off the islanders all day, although that wasn’t their intent. Their goal was to knock off the leaders. They figured that if each of the sharpshooters got two, it would leave the people on the island virtually leaderless. Getting what they wanted from the islanders after that would be a snap.

  The man in the lead carried an AK-47 and a topographical map of Catalina Island.

  “We need to go over these little hills and then up the one nearest Catalina Harbor,” he said quietly to the other men. When we get near the top of that one, spread out. You with the rifles, take positions looking down the hill. You with the bazookas, get up top and pick out targets. Fire the minute you have one. Those of us with automatic weapons will be right there with cover fire when we’ve finished the job and are ready to leave. It shouldn’t take more than five minutes.

  * * * * *

  “Any questions?” asked Stacey.
She led the discussion about creating a settlement in Avalon, a place that had been the largest community on Catalina Island with almost four thousand people. Hoodlums had taken it over, killing most of the people. Pirates later came in and killed the hoodlums and the rest of the original citizens. The town was now empty.

  “I just have a comment,” said Denise, the Arthur’s thirteen-year-old. Her arm had been cut and the bone cracked by flying debris the day before but being a typical teenager. She had already discarded the restrictive sling.

  “Yes, Denise?”

  “I just think it’s weird saying we’re going to create a ‘settlement’ at a place that was a bustling community until a little over a month ago.” She giggled. “I feel like Davy Crockett.”

  “Davie Crockett, maybe,” cut in Glen Arthur, fifteen. “You may be a beanpole, but you’ll never pass as a man.”

  Denise had grown several inches in recent months, and her weight had not caught up to her height yet. She stuck her tongue out at him. “I can still outshoot you, big brother.”

  “Let’s keep to the subject at hand,” said Zach, although his own attention often strayed during the four-hour discussion they had in the cockpit of their forty-one foot ketch. He often eyed the harbor entrance and looked from time-to-time at the hill south of them where the tractor and seed planters worked until they broke for lunch a few minutes earlier.

  “I think you and Stacey covered it pretty well,” Mae Arthur said. Stacey and I will work with people to get them in the habit of storing necessary items in preparation for the many months they will not be available. You will teach them military and self-defense matters, and Glen will see about getting schools going.” She smiled at her granddaughter. “Denise, being the best shot in the group, will train people in the use of weapons.”

  Denise again stuck her tongue out at her brother.

  “I still think it’s strange that a young girl can hit a coke bottle at a hundred yards,” Glen said. “Heck, I can do that,” said Mae. “I can’t hit a whiskey glass at that distance, though, and she can.”

  Stacey put her hand on her husband’s shoulder while the youngsters and their grandmother discussed the girl’s shooting skills. “What is it, Zach? You look worried.”

  “Not worried, exactly, but I’m concerned about the placement of the guard on this side.”

  She looked across the harbor entrance and saw a man watching from a little knoll on the northwest side of the entrance. “It looks like he can see just about everything from there,” she said. “North, south and west, and even east, where we are.”

  “True,” he said, “and I’ve never sailed on this side of the island before, so I don’t know it except for maps. I wonder, though, if he can see far enough to the southeast, along the coast.” She looked in that direction, but saw only the hill. “No way I can tell from here,” she said.

  “I can’t either, and I don’t even know if I’d know if I was where he is. That’s the point. I’m going to go up the hill and check it out.”

  “You were up there this morning,” she reminded him.

  “That’s what got me thinking about it. I was about in the middle and saw a lot of the ocean from there. That makes me think I’ll see everything from the most western part of it. I’ll know soon enough.” He got up and started back to lower the dinghy.

  “Lunch will be ready in half an hour,” Mae said. “Well, sandwiches, anyway.”

  “I should be back by then,” he said

  “What do want to take with you?” Glen asked. He was on his way down to the salon.

  “I’ll take one of the AK-47s, I think,” Zach replied. “Bring two mags.” As Glen went to get the weapon and ammo, Stacey looked questioningly at Zach.

  “Overkill, I know,” he told her, smiling. “There’s not a chance in the world I’ll run into anything I need to use them for, but a small weapon and a couple of magazines are light.” He patted one of the side pockets of the six-pocket shorts he was wearing. “Lots of room.” He called to his son.

  “Glen, bring me some binoculars, too.” Shrugging at Stacey, he added, “I’ve got the space, so I might just as well get a good view of the whole area.”

  * * * * *

  Zach kept his eye on the water below as he made his way to the top of the hill. Even before he got to the top, he saw that his concerns were well founded. He could see more from here than from below. He understood why it wasn’t obvious to Peckham, though. The man at the entrance could see everything up to where the coast jutted out, maybe a mile. No boats could get around the point without someone seeing them.

  However, it fell off to the east after that and he was certain that no one could see boats there from the harbor entrance. From this position, he could see much of the coastline that was hidden from anyone in the harbor. And, he could see everything west and north, too. He could even see Isthmus Cove on the other side. A guard here would see incoming boats far earlier than from the entrance, so he would have to convince Peckham to set up a watch at this location,

  As he approached the top, he slung the AK-47 over his shoulder and raised the binoculars. Stepping carefully, he trained them on the coast, starting at the harbor entrance. As he moved the glasses along the point of the coast, he spotted two powerboats sitting close to the coastline.

  Two powerboats?

  He dropped the binoculars and started to unsling his AK-47 as he swung around to look at the hill to his left. Before he could get the weapon in his hands, he saw men coming up the hill. The three in front had just about reached the top. They spotted him a second before he spotted them.

  All had their weapons in their hands. One had a rifle, another had a bazooka, and the third an automatic weapon. The man with the rifle had it aimed right at him and there was no way he could get his weapon in shooting position before the guy pulled the trigger.

  Even from thirty yards away, Zach could see he was already starting to squeeze the trigger.

  A shot rang out.

  Chapter 12

  THE man aiming at Zach jerked and twisted around, falling backward, blood streaming from his neck. The gunshot came from behind the intruders, so they all instinctively turned to look for the shooter. A second shot echoed through the hills. The man with the automatic weapon threw his hands up and was knocked backward when a powerful slug hit him in the chest.

  By the time the man’s body hit the ground, Zach had his AK-47 at the ready and opened fire. Before any of them could react, he hit the lead man carrying the bazooka and the two closest, behind him, both of whom carried rifles. They were the only ones high enough on the hill for him to see. The rest were near the top on the side where the unknown shooter was, but a little lower. That was a bad place to be, but if they climbed any higher, they would have to contend with Zach.

  Two, one with an automatic weapon and the other with a long-barreled rifle, figured they had no idea where the shooter behind them was, and they at least had a general idea of Zach’s location. They jumped up and charged over the hill toward him, firing as they advanced.

  After his first volley, Zach hit the dirt and rolled six feet away from where he was initially, so their slugs soared harmlessly into space. He cut them down before they had a chance to correct their error.

  In less than five seconds, Zach and the unknown shooter had reduced the number of adversaries from sixteen to nine, and it quickly became eight as the unknown shooter hit the last man carrying a long-barreled rifle.

  The only intruders left now were the five with bazookas and the three who carried bags of ammo. Those with ammo bags dropped them; two dove for the rifles near the dead bodies. The other ran down the hill toward the boats. The shooter immediately cut down one; the other managed to crawl behind a small mound of dirt covered with rocks and the hill behind him hid most of his body. That was where the shooter had to be, although no one could spot him at the moment.

  The bazookas weren’t loaded and were useless as weapons. The men carrying them dropped them where the
y were. Two scurried down the hill toward the boats, and the other three found weapons lying on the ground and looked for cover. The only likely cover was already taken, so they tried to get over the hill. Zach opened fire and got one as soon as he came into sight. The unknown shooter hit another. Both died instantly. The one remaining armed man saw the rock the watcher was hiding behind earlier in the morning and dove for it.

  Zach kept shooting. His shots kicked up dirt around the diving gunman; two grazed him, once in the thigh and once in the calf, but neither wound was life threatening. The intruder slid in behind the rock. The top of the hill hid him from the unknown shooter, and the rock hid him from Zach.

  The three unarmed men scampered as quickly as they could on rocky, uneven ground toward the boats. They were easy targets for the unknown shooter as they passed the hill he was on, but they were unarmed and heading away. He let them go.

  It was now one-on-one for each man.

  On his side, the unknown shooter had a big advantage. He knew where his adversary was, but the adversary didn’t know where he was. The shooter was completely hidden, but cover for the other man was slight. His lower legs were in plain sight, and a little of his upper body showed above the little mound and the rocks. Apparently not wanting to waste ammo just wounding his adversary, the shooter waited and did not fire.

  On the other side of the hill, both men knew each other’s location. That’s where equality ended. The rock the gunman from the boat hid behind was large. He was at the side, not behind the top edge where the watcher was that morning, and it was large enough to shield him completely from Zach.

  Zach had no cover at all. Being prone, he offered less of a target than he had when he was standing, but if the gunman was even an average marksman, he wouldn’t miss.