Adventures in the Apocalypse: Post-Apocalyptic America: After The Flare

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Adventures in the Apocalypse: Post-Apocalyptic America: After The Flare Page 8

by A J Newman


  “I think we would be in trouble. We would need a cannon also, and I can’t make a cannon. Let me think about it for a while. I get back to you.”

  “Okay, I’m taking the day off and playing with one of those drones we found in the cargo. I think I can use the larger ones to scout out ahead of the ship when we get close to another ship or the shore.”

  I chose one of the toy drones to start with, and after losing the first two into the sea. I practiced only above the deck, which helped me get more proficient. After a few hours, I could fly all over above the deck and land anywhere I chose. I now had the confidence to move up to a larger drone and flew it out in front of the ship about a half mile. I circled the ship and buzzed the pilot’s room several times before the Captain told me to cut that shit out.

  I was getting a bit cocky flying the drone around the ship and bringing it close to the crew. I received several middle fingers, but that didn’t deter me from my fun. I then flew my drone behind the ship and saw nothing but water.

  This was fun, and now I wanted to graduate to the big boys. There were a dozen military-grade surveillance drones in one shipping container. I unpackaged one and took my time reading the instructions with Maria’s help. The damn instructions were in Russian and Spanish. A few hours later, I was flying the darn thing around the ship and then miles ahead of and behind us as we plowed through the beautiful waves.

  I was lost in the breathtaking wonder of watching our ship from above when suddenly something flashed into the picture. It was a blur and flew under my drone so close and fast that I thought it was a bird. I moved the control to make the drone rocket up much higher so I could get an idea of what kind of bird was buzzing my drone when there was a loud buzzing behind me, and something nearly knocked me down. I looked up in time to see a large model airplane circling again to attack me.

  I looked in my control camera and saw Manny was on top of a stack of overseas containers with a control box in his hands. I circled my drone around the ship below deck and brought it back up behind him. Damn it. Two can play that game.

  Manuel was so busy with flying his airplane drone that he didn’t notice mine sneaking up on him. It popped up behind him and scared the shit out of him. He screamed like a little girl with a spider crawling up her leg, dropped the controls, and jumped off the container. He was lucky the control fell nearby, and he kept the plane from crashing. I waved at him, and he gave me the finger.

  So anyway, Manuel and I were having a ball, when the Captain called us to the helm.

  “What the fuck are you two doing acting like children?”

  I replied first, “I’ve am working on a surveillance system to see what’s going on up to five miles away from the ship.”

  Manny added, “I am building a bomber, or perhaps a cruise missile.”

  The Captain and I both turned to Manuel and said, “Do what?”

  Manuel replied, “This is the small plane. The big ones will carry up to 10 Kilograms. I attach a camera a solenoid and an RPG and Pirate boat goes boom.”

  Manuel’s broken English and his gestures made the whole thing hilarious, but deadly as we realized he had solved our lack of cannon.

  He worked on the concept day and night and the third day demonstrated his ability to hit a container with a practice bomb four out of five times. He could make that 100 percent by using the plane as a Kamikaze and striking the target. We decided that would be a last resort due to the small numbers of radio controlled planes and drones.

  He also armed a drone with a pistol and was getting better every day at hitting a man-sized target.

  ***

  The Captain invited me to join Brett and him for drinks after dinner later that week and informed me of a deal that he and Brett had made.

  Brett and Meg decided to stay with the Captain and become partners in his trading company. Brett would supply the security know-how, Meg would handle the accounting and mess hall, and the Captain would supply the trade goods and ship. Only half of the Cubans decided to stay with Manuel and Maria aboard the ship.

  They put a full-court press on me to stay with them and become an equal partner in their new shipping and trading company.

  “Matt, we need your ingenuity, drive, and leadership to help us stay safe and prosper,” said the Captain.

  Before I could speak, Meg added, “Matt, I know you are fond of Mary, but you can’t count on finding her. She doesn’t need saving and is doing her thing helping the Nun and children.”

  “I do appreciate what you are trying to do for me; however, I have to see this through and find Mary, and I hope Patty. I told them that I would protect them and stay with them until we arrived in South America. Hell, I don’t even know where either of them is or if they are alive.”

  “Matt that’s our point. Don’t waste your life chasing after a dream.”

  “Sorry, but I’ve made up my mind and planned to take the 31 foot Hunter and head over to Arboletes Colombia tomorrow. I have taken the liberty of loading it with food and water from our stores. I also took several of the drones and a couple of the RPG rounds.”

  The Captain spoke up and said, “Matt, I’m disappointed that you won’t stay, but we all wish you the best. Take what you need. We will miss you. Oh, you have earned our respect and you will keep 5 percent of our new company.”

  The Captain caught me later and said, “I have an acquaintance that lives east of Arboletes in the village of Pueto Rey, and it’s only a few miles east. Ask for Oscar Ramos, and tell him that you are my friend and you need his help.”

  “Why would he help me?”

  “Because I saved his life many years ago when we were young soldiers. We were very close back then, and I know he will help you. Be careful when you leave your new boat and travel ashore, many rascals will steal your boat and kill you for your possessions. Be careful my son.”

  “Thanks, I can never repay you.”

  “Oh, you never know when our paths will cross again.”

  ✼

  Chapter 9

  Me Alone Again

  I spent the next day getting the Hunter ready to sail. The Captain made sure that I had a good compass and a sextant. He drilled me on the sextant, and I could usually figure out where we were close enough to sail to where I wanted to be. He also loaded my boat with items to trade and more weapons. I now had one RPG launcher and four RPGs plus several pounds of the Russian equivalent of C4 plastic explosive and detonators. I also had enough food for three months and 50 gallons of fresh water in the tank and another 25 in bottles. I was in great shape to go on my quest and itching to set sail.

  The only thing left was to attend a goodbye Matt party. Maria outdid herself with the food and drinks for the party the night before I left. I ate, drank, and danced with all of the single women who were shopping for a husband. Manuel helped me to my room, and then we sat and had a couple of more drinks. I drank so much that I woke, up the next morning with a terrible hangover. Manuel and Brett woke me up about 10:00 a.m. with a damn blast from a hand held air horn. I rolled out of the bunk, fell flat on the floor, gave them a good cussin’, and then got dressed.

  They helped me to the mess hall where Maria poured steaming hot cups of coffee down me until I sobered up for the day. I went up on deck to see that the crew had already lowered the Hunter into the water and had painted The Wanderer on the stern and bow. The sailboat was beautiful and had just been washed and it was brilliant white with blue trim.

  “Someone cleaned my new boat, and I thank them very much. I appreciate everything that all of you have done for me, and I will never forget you.”

  The Captain replied, “Matt, you have been a great help to all of us in many ways. We will never forget you. Good luck on your voyage, but you will always be welcome back on board the Svetlana.”

  Everyone hugged or shook my hand as I moved closer to my new boat. Manny and Maria were the last to wish me well, and Maria handed me a basket of her homemade tacos to take with me on my trip.

>   “Mr. Matt you have been very good to my family and me. You will always be my friend,” said Manuel.

  I hugged Manuel and Maria and then climbed down the rope latter with tears in my eyes.

  I started the auxiliary engine, untied the mooring lines, and steered away from the Svetlana while waving at my friends as I pulled away. I kept looking over my left shoulder at the ship that had been home to me, only to see her grow smaller as I headed southwest.

  Suddenly I felt all alone on a vast blue sea that engulfed my boat and me. The Captain had told me that we were about 500 miles from the Colombian coast as I left. That meant that if I sailed only 10 hours each day, that I would take 7 to 8 days to arrive at my destination.

  My Wanderer was 30 feet long by 11 feet wide at the beam and could cruise at 6 MPH. It also had a Yanmar 20 horsepower diesel inboard for use in docking or taking the boat away from land. It had two double berths, one head, and stuffed to the gills with food, water, and weapons. There was a nine-foot Walker Bay RIB Dinghy powered by a Honda ten HP outboard engine.

  The dinghy would come in handy when I arrived closer to Colombia. I planned to hide the Wanderer and go ashore in the dinghy to avoid someone stealing my sailboat. My greatest fear was another run in with the pirates that had attacked the Svetlana. I knew that I could put up a fight, but the outcome would be the same, me dead and my sailboat sunk.

  I woke up before dawn every morning and loved watching the sun rise in the east. The sight of that red ball sending shimmering rays across the water gave me goose bumps every time I watched. I also watched the moon at night in the sky and watched its reflection in the water. Both the sun rising in the east over the ocean and the moon at night were breathtaking sights out there in the Caribbean. Every night I thought about how Mary was doing and if she was still alive.

  I made a routine of fixing my lunch before setting sail each morning so I wouldn’t have to stop during the daylight hours. I also sent a drone up to scout out the area around my position and see what lay ahead of me towards Arboletes. The smaller drones were battery powered, so I kept the batteries charging on the deck using solar cells we found in one of the shipping containers. The solar flare had fried the boat’s GPS, depth finder, and other electronics; however, the auxiliary diesel engine charged the boat's batteries enough for lights but little else.

  I was saving the larger gas powered drone for searching the coast when I got closer to Pueto Rey. I only saw a couple of small freighters and one cabin cruiser during my trip and was easily able to avoid them.

  The days passed slowly as I sat behind the wheel and steered the boat towards my destination. Ten to twelve hours with nothing to do except keep the ship on target and an occasional bathroom break gave me plenty of time to think. I had regained most of my memory and only had a few fuzzy spots right before I woke up in the Venture drifting towards Cuba.

  I remembered wanting Patty to love me without success, and her being kidnapped. I guessed I had given up on Patty and fell for Mary because my need to find her was so strong. I found that I missed my Springer Spaniels and wondered what had happened to them. Damn, I had forgotten to ask Brett about them. I never saw them again. I later learned that Brett had kept them and they were killed in the attack on his boat.

  I was making good time heading to Colombia on the seventh day as the sun set on the western horizon. The sun appeared to be the proverbial red rubber ball split in half by the ocean. I sent up my long-range drone to scout the area after I struck my sails. As I hoped, there was nothing in the water for the five-mile range of the drone.

  I woke up on the eighth morning feeling that something wasn’t right in my world. I didn’t know how to explain it other than I had a strange feeling of pending doom. I went topside to relieve myself and had just finished when I saw a young girl swimming towards my boat. She wore a life jacket but struggled to close the 50 yards to the boat.

  I jumped into the water and swam to her when she yelled, “Don’t come near me. I can make it to shore by myself.”

  “Do you want me to sail away and leave your drowning ass in the water? Before you answer, we are at least five miles from the shore.”

  “Damn, I thought I was much closer. Can you take me to shore?”

  I grabbed her lifejacket behind her neck and towed her to the boat. I helped her climb the latter and helped her to a seat beside me, and then I went below, found some dry clothes for her, and returned topside.

  “I laid out some of my clothes for you on the bed. Go below and change while I fix breakfast.”

  “Thanks. I’m starving. Those bastards didn’t feed us for the two days we were held in captivity,” she said as she went below.

  The girl was about 18 to 20, black hair, well built and obviously was educated. She came back up the steps in my jeans and polo shirt with no shoes and her hair in a ponytail. I handed her a plate of fried eggs and ham with a glass of orange juice made from powder. She ate quickly and asked for seconds, which I promptly dished onto her plate.

  “What’s your name? Mine is Matt.”

  “Matt, my name is Rebecca; my friends call me Becca.”

  “How did you get so far out in the ocean without a boat?”

  “I jumped off the boat yesterday night when the Pirates were, oh God, raping my friend and her mom.”

  “Pirates? You were captured by pirates. I’m sorry. Did they hurt you?”

  She raised her wrists to show me the rope burns and bruises from having been tied up, and said, “No just the rope burns.”

  Where did they capture you and where were you heading?

  “My friend’s dad has business in Jamaica, and we flew over with him and her mom. When it came time to return, her dad had to stay, and the plane broke down, so we had to come home aboard one of those cigarette boats. The pirates stopped us a couple of hours out from land and took everyone hostage. They mentioned getting a ransom for my friend and her mom and only wanted to take me back to their boss.”

  Where were the pirates heading?”

  “I heard one mention they were heading to their base in Arboletes, Colombia. My parents live about 20 miles from Pueto Rey.”

  “Oh shit.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I’m heading to Pueto Rey and that is close to Arboletes. Did they mention their leader’s name?”

  “Everyone knows his name. It’s Gentleman Jack.”

  “We have to steer clear of this Jack and his band of pirates. I’ll drop you off near Pueto Rey and go on about my business.”

  Becca already knew how to sail, so it was easy to let her steer while I kept a drone in the air watching for pirate ships. I loaded an RPG round on one and used the other long-range drone to scout. I covered the bomber drone with a tarp to keep Becca from asking too many questions.

  Two days had passed before I spotted any ships in range of the drone and I saw two on the monitor. There was one of the patrol boats chasing a small freighter while firing on the poor freighter. I brought the drone back without alerting Becca and launched my bomber drone. Shortly the drone was above the patrol boat, which had slowed down since the freighter had slowed down and hoisted a white flag to surrender.

  I maneuvered the drone directly above the patrol boat and made it descend until it was only fifty feet above the patrol boat. This caught the attention of the crew; however, it was too late for them to react as I pushed the button to drop the RPG round. There was an explosion, the patrol boat was fully engulfed in flames, and burned for a few minutes until the fuel tank exploded. The explosion blew the boat to pieces, and the water was littered with debris and a couple of body parts.

  I buzzed the freighter with the drone and saw the crew waving as I steered it back home.

  We both heard the explosion, and Becca exclaimed, “Did you hear that. It sounded like a bomb went off northeast of us.”

  “I know, and I’m not going back to find out what it was.”

  She gave me a dumb look and went back to steering the boa
t.

  On the evening of the tenth day, I saw a few seagulls flying around the boat and stopped for the night earlier than usual. I started the larger long-range drone and sent it southeast to determine how close to land I was. The drone had only been up a few minutes when I saw a small fishing boat about a mile away and the shore a short distance further. I brought the drone back and directed it to fly around the Wanderer to see if there were any dangers nearby. There weren’t so I brought the drone back to me and set sail to put a couple of miles between the coast and us.

  I relaunched the drone again, flew it around my boat, and found nothing close or heading my way. I then flew the drone towards land at a high altitude and found the coast. I watched the monitor as it flew along the coast until I saw a small village. I flew the drone around the village until I saw several signs that had Monitos on them. Thankfully, the bank and library were proud to be in the city of Monitos.

  She looked over my shoulder and said, “We’re almost to my home.”

  I checked my map and found I was only 30 miles off target. I set sails and headed to within a few miles of Pueto Rey, and then anchored and we ate supper.

  “You should come with me to my parent’s home. My dad will throw a large feast in your honor for saving his only daughter.”

  “I’m sorry, but I have to go on and find a way to find a friend of mine who lives in the area.”

  “I’d like to show you my appreciation,” she said as she batted her eyes at me.

  “Sorry, but I have to move on.”

  I liked this young woman but didn’t want to meet her parents, have a feast, or celebrate at all until I found Mary.

  Later I checked my backpack and weapons for my trip to Pueto Rey. I would only have my Glock 17 and my bayonet on my hip and my Keltek Sub 2000 in my backpack for protection. I packed extra magazines, food, and a change of underwear for my short trip. My backpack already had my Bugout gear neatly stowed in its various pockets.

 

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