by AJ Newman
“Thanks for braving the city and searching for us,” Patty said and gave Antonio a peck on the cheek.
Yes, she purposefully kissed him to goad Carla, who had been a bitch to her while Antonio was gone. Patty does have a bitchy side when you get her riled
Oh yeah, she could see Carla was furious all right, but she did keep her mouth shut for a change. Patty knew that Carla would have to disappear before she would get on the boat.
Antonio didn’t like her and she always treated Patty as a threat, and from the way she related this story to me, she was a threat to Carla. I mean, hell, she didn’t want Antonio, but she most definitely didn’t want Carla around, especially with that damned knife she always carried.
She fell asleep that night thinking of ways to get rid of Carla without killing her.
***
When Patty came to, she was dizzy, and felt like crap. She thought her head might explode as she tried to wake up. She heard strange sounds and instinctively knew the smart move was to play dead.
She overheard to two men talking about this “new hot piece of ass’ that they had traded for. She felt sorry for the poor woman after peeking through her eyelids across the room at the rough men seated at a bar. They were drunk and slugging free whiskey down one after another.
The men talked about a wide range of topics from women to the cold weather. One mentioned the recent rumor about the permanent winter and the flight of people to Mexico and South America. They thought they should head south, but the local bars were full of alcohol and it was above freezing most days.
Besides, they had their choice of homes to live in and most houses outside the city limits had full propane tanks that could heat a house all winter. They decided to wait until spring to move south.
She moved her head slightly to look around the room to find herself in what was once a nice bar with a nautical theme. She saw most of her possessions on the floor by the jukebox, and then the room swayed a bit when she moved her eyes too fast so she closed them.
She tried to rub her eyes, but couldn’t move her arms. That’s when the realization set in that she was the new woman and she was lying on her side on a pool table with her feet and hands tied together.
Her mind raced to what could have happened, but the last day was missing from her memory. The last thing she remembered was Antonio saying he had to travel north to find a boat and kissing him on the cheek.
Then it hit her, that bitch Carla had drugged her and sold her to these men. She had no idea how long she had been unconscious and then she wondered how Carla had moved her from the house.
She slowly felt around her right ankle and was relieved to find her Keltek .380 still in her ankle holster. She also found her knife strapped to the inside of her other leg.
As her wits began return she was amazed, and relieved to realize these guys were so drunk they didn’t find either of her weapons when they tied her up. She vowed they would pay for that oversight.
She had adopted this precaution after being kidnapped in the helicopter. She’d vowed that she would never go anywhere unarmed again.
She was startled when a third man appeared and started groping her from behind.
“I get her first. Let’s wake her up and get our money’s worth.”
“No, I called dibs first and I’m the one who found that crazy bitch that sold her to us. I go first.”
Patty knew this was just going to be too easy from the way they had tied her, wrist to ankle. She retrieved the knife and the pistol, cut her hands free from their bindings while the two men were arguing over which one went first.
When dibs guy came over and ran both his hands down her inner thigh, she clamped down on them with both legs, drove the knife into his stomach and shot the other two.
As the man fell to his knees the knife caught on the table’s edge dragging it across his naked stomach. He used his hands trying to stuff his intestines back into his abdominal cavity with no luck.
His screams of pain became feral as he fell onto his back, blood pooling along his sides. The other two drunks fell off their barstools and lay writhing in their own blood.
Neither was mortally wounded, but would bleed out in a half hour or so without treatment.
“So you three assholes think I’m a hot piece of ass, do you? This is the only piece you’re going to get today,” Patty said as she shot both in the stomach.
Through his screams, one pleadingly said, “But, I traded a good boat for you.”
She looked both men in the eye and replied, “Damn, I’m worth more than some leaky old boat, oh well.
Tell me, bucko’s, was it good enough to die for? I just gotta’ tell ya’ that it was great for me, you big hunk of man, you.
Now just die with your friend by the pool table.”
Remember how Patty was when I first met her, a regular Nurse Nancy Nice. Well, I’m tellin’ you this, those days were gone. Why, our little girl was all grown up.
She told me that she hoped they would die a slow, painful death, but she became worried that someone might find them in time and save their lives.
So, instead of leaving them with their wounds she went back over to them and put one bullet into each kneecap.
She said, “Boys, help might come in time and you might live, but watching you try to walk would be worth the price of admission. I’ll see ya’ around boys.”
She also told me that in thinking back on that situation she hoped they did get help and lived.” She said, “Damn, but I’d love to see them walk.”
***
Patty went over to the bar, poured three fingers of Bourbon and drank it down in one gulp.
She checked her supplies, found all of her guns except for one Glock. She hid what she couldn’t carry in her backpack and headed out to kill Carla. As she left the bar, she wondered if she would ever find Matt again or if she would have to live out the rest of her life alone.
As she left her paramours in the bar, she looked both ways before stepping onto the street and saw poor Max lying by the building dead from two gunshot wounds. That made her feel better about making those perverts in the bar suffer; after all a little suffering is good for the soul, right?”
Patty had been unconscious for some time and had missed Antonio and his children’s departure. She found his truck by a dock north of the city and realized that she had lost Matt and Antonio. Suddenly she felt very alone and very afraid.
Yeah, alone and afraid she may have been, but helpless she was not.
The truck had plenty of gas, but the bed and trailer were empty. She ditched the trailer, drove the truck and started scavenging for food.
She knew the stores, warehouses and trucks were a waste of time, but searched for food processing plants, hoping that she could find nonperishable foods that were in the packaging process.
Patty knew that she would be seen walking or driving around town and decided to get away from the northern part of town and drove south until she was just south of Oso Bay and below the water treatment plant. She found an abandoned house on the waterfront and made it her base of operations. Patty made sure she came and went by different routes so following her would be more difficult. She was always on the lookout for people following her.
Several followed her, but they only did it once.
She drove to the manufacturing side of town and found large warehouses, light manufacturing and several food processing plants. She found the holy grail of breakfast cereal boxes on the packaging lines and loaded her truck to the brim. She made several trips back to her hideout before moving on to other buildings.
Her most significant find was a canning plant that had potted ham, chicken and Spam. She also found a plant that made packages of jerky and sausage sticks. These would last for months to years without spoiling. Again, she filled her truck several times. Her food supplies were now more than sufficient for the near future. She now needed ammunition and medical supplies for her trip south. She also needed a boat.
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Chapter 18
Corpus Christie
We made it to the outskirts of Corpus Christi two days later, a little after noon and because there were so few people, we decided to stay while I searched for a boat.
We spent the time hiding at the Emerald Beach Hotel, on South Shoreline Blvd, with our vehicles in the parking garage. The rooms were pretty classy, but with billions, worldwide dead, or dying, the room service sucked. Still, the price was right.
We unpacked only the necessary items. And Mary and I took turns guarding the vehicles both day and night.
With the wind howling off the Gulf, it was really cold, but with our cold weather gear the time on guard duty was tolerable, still I so wanted to climb into my arctic sleeping bag, but I knew I would fall comfortably to sleep, and might even wake up dead.
The Nuns took the kids out to the beach and Gulf; they were excited to play on the beach. Playtime lasted about thirty minutes. The temperature was in the low thirties.
So, dear reader, if you don’t know anything about Corpus Christi, let me enlighten you; the wind blows hard. The “feels like” temperature sat around ten degrees Fahrenheit, with blowing sand. Actually, it could often feel like standing in front of a sand blasting machine.
There were the remains of a recent dusting of snow against the northern side of the buildings, which only re-enforced my desire to head farther south. It was late March and the temperatures overnight should be in the fifties, not the teens, and now they were always in the teens.
Mary and I planned to leave the Nuns and kids safely at the hotel while we searched the docks for a boat, or purchase passage south.
We left before dawn and worked our way down to the waterfront where our map said the Yacht Club should be located. The only person we saw was the proverbial little old lady, all bundled up and sitting in a chair, fishing from a pier just south of the Club.
We braved the wind, and cold sea spray, approaching her with open hands, “Hello how’s the fishing?”
“Much better without all of the boats and people stirring up the water,” she replied as she held up a stringer with a half dozen small fish.
“Where did all of the people go?”
“Most are dead and rotting in their houses, or buried in the parks. The rest either drove off or took a boat south.”
“Why did you stay?
“I was born right here in Corpus 66 years ago and by God I’ll die here in my home when the Good Lord decides it’s time to call me home. Hell I like snow, a’course livin’ here on the Mexican border I don’t ever see any, but I don’t mind this weather.
I went to New Hampshire once and played ice hockey when I was a bit younger. I plan to do that again, right here, once it gets a mite colder a’course.
Folks here abouts call me Meg. You got a name?”
“Yes, ma’am, we do, I’m Matt and this is Mary. We came down from Wyoming. I guess it’s turned into a frozen tundra right about now.”
She smiled with a disconcertingly pleasant grin and said, “Yes, I reckon it is, or soon will be. Glad ta’ meet’cha.
Now, since I doubt y’all be out here for your health, is they sumthin’ y’all want or is they some way I can be of help ta’ y’all?”
“You surely can, if you know where we can find a boat. We have a bunch of orphans and we need to get them safely down to Central America.”
She began with a chuckle that slowly became a cackle, “Damned if I know, boy. The Yacht Club is up there, but they ain’t nothing that’ll float or move.
“Y’all might go north, or south where there are several marinas, and a couple of fishing communities down close to the Mexican border, and if you go there, you best be packin’ and extra careful, still, I don’t spect you’ll be findin’ much. Maybe a sailboat. Them damn Yankees that come down here a’lookin’ for a boat didn’t seem to know spit about sailing.”
“Thank you, Meg. We’ll remember your advice. Good luck with your fishing.”
We gave some thought to what Meg had said. Mary thought she was like deciding to eat at a shaky looking roadside diner because the parking lot was full of trucks. The drivers know where the good eateries are.
Yeah, Meg was a trip, and I wondered if she would ever get to play ice hockey. I’d be willing to bet that even at 66, she could check like a pro. What a gal!
We proceeded north to the Yacht Club and old Meg was right, nothing there except burned out sunken hulks. It was late morning when we saw a man fishing off the dock.
“How’s the fishing this morning?”
“It stinks. Only got me one lousy Flounder. A man could starve to death at this rate.”
“Where can we find a boat?”
The old boy’s face turned stormy, and he said, “Damn, boy, cain’tcha even say hello to an old man?
My names Brett Starnes, you?”
I grinned and said, “I’m sorry, sir, I guess I was a bit rude, and I sincerely apologize. My name is Matt and this here is Mary. We are shepherding a couple of Nuns and their orphan charges.
Sir, do you have any idea where we might engage a boat to take us all the way to Brazil?”
“Now, see, that warn’t so tough was it?” and Brett burst out laughing. Nope, they ain’t none here. You might could try goin’ south until you find a marina, or that little Mex village just this side of the border. They might could be able to help you out, seein’ as y’all are on such a mission of mercy.
Yep, herdin’ Nuns and orphans might just help, cause, you know, all them Mex’s is Catholic. Whole area was founded by Catholics.
Why, even the name Corpus Christi is Spanish for Body of Christ. Now I ain’t no Catholic, but I plum like the name Corpus Christi, Body of Christ.
Fact is, most folks my age like the name, ‘course we ain’t a’goin’ nowhere. That old sayin’ about home is where the heart is is true. Well as you get older, if’n you do,” he laughed like a loon over his little pun, then added, “Wait, what was it you wanted, agin?
Oh yeah, a boat, well, just go south. You just might find one, but be careful what you wish for, cause ya’ just mite git it.”
He kept right on talking, and we weren’t sure if he was still with us, or just lost in his own thoughts, “Yeah, they used to be plenty of them, but a lot of people done come through here over the past few weeks and ever danged one of ‘em wanted passage to South America. They stole boats, killed boat owners and shot up boats when they couldn’t get on board them. Yeah, I’d try them other marinas.
Say, did I tell you ‘bout the time.”
Whew, half an hour later we were finally able to say, “Thank you Mr. Starnes for all your help. I hope you don’t mind my asking, but are you by yourself?”
“No, my best friend, my ex-wife,” again with the laughter, “is fishing off the pier down south of here.”
“Aren’t y’all afraid someone might try to harm you?”
The man pulled an Uzi from under his jacket and said, “Not if they want to live, ‘sides, why would anyone want to hurt me. Son, I’ve been a life taker and a heart breaker on four continents when I was a Navy Seal and I may take a few more lives afore I die in this new fangled shitty-assed world we find ourselves in. Don’t rightly reckon I’ll be a breakin’ many more hearts, though ya’ never can tell. Shoot, ya’ never can tell.
I can’t get the old lady to go south with me. She doesn’t think old people should be out on the water alone.”
“Can you navigate on the ocean?”
“I’ve sailed a 30 footer from the west coast to Hawaii and then on to Fiji and back. So, yeah, I reckon I can.”
“Well we have to find a big boat that can handle 15 people. You see, we have 11 orphans and two Nuns that we picked up along the way here and have to get them safely to their sister orphanage in Central America before heading on to South America. If we find one, would you two go with us?”
“Well, let me see if we can get the old woman to go along. I
warn ya’ that I’ll not be a’leaven the old bag again. We’ve kinda’ grown used to each other’s company, but I gotta’ meet the kids before I commit to this crazy plan, still, I might know where you can find a boat that I could still skipper.”
I was a bit concerned about Brett’s age and mental capacity, so I asked, “Sir, I promise you that I do not wish to be rude, or insult you, but I must ask are you sure you can do the job, I mean, at your age.”
He laughed again, but this time it seemed somehow different. He said, “Matt, please, call me Brett, and I assure you that I am completely competent and up to the task.
All that crazy old man shit was to put you at ease in case you wanted to rob me. People at ease are not ready, and that’s where my Uzi comes in handy.
I’m mentally sound, and probably could give you a run for your money; still, before I agree I want to meet the Nuns and kids first. Deal?”
“Oh, hell, yes! We are staying at the Emerald Beach Hotel, on South Shoreline Blvd a few blocks from here.
Whoa, wait a minute, Brett, is your wife like you? I mean mentally?”
Brett lowered his head and said, “No, son, I’m afraid she isn’t. She’s much smarter than I am, and could probably whip your ass.”
“Oh, sure, we know the Emerald Beach Hotel, on South Shoreline Blvd well. Let me call the old bitch and get her to meet us there.”
He pulled a walkie-talkie out of his pocket and said, “Meg, I want you to meet me at the front of the Emerald Beach Hotel, on South Shoreline Blvd. We have friends there. Bring protection.”
“Okay, what the hell have you got us into now?”
“Trust me and shut up. Love you.”
“Love you, too, ya’ old coot.”
He reached under his lawn chair, and pulled an M-14 rifle, scoped and prepped as a snipers weapon. Then he shouldered his Uzi and came along with us.
