The Last Layover

by Steven Bird

  “What's going on?” she said.

  “Sounds like a small gas engine to me,” Evan replied with a curious tone. After a few minutes, it kicked off followed by some banging around and a dragging sound. Just then, from around the corner, came Damon and Jason, side-by-side, dragging a small inflatable dingy.

  “Awesome,” Evan said with excitement. They patiently waited until Damon and Jason got the raft to the water. Jason took up a cover position with his AR-15 at the ready, and Damon signaled for Evan and Peggy to join up with them. Evan sent Peggy out from the gazebo and covered her from behind. Without saying a word, they each tossed their pack into the raft and climbed aboard. Jason, as the cover man, got in last and gave them a good shove off of the beach.

  “Nice paddle,” Evan said as he noticed Damon paddling the boat with a plastic garbage can lid.

  “Hey, don't laugh,” Damon responded with a grin. This is all we could find. This raft was lying out in that old storage building deflated. Luckily, there was a gas powered air compressor out there or it would have been useless to us. It's got a little air leak on the side there, but luckily, Jason being the boy scout type, had a roll of duct tape in his bag. That should hold till we make it out there.”

  “Don't worry,” added Jason. “That's speed tape. If it will work on the side of a jet going five hundred miles per hour, it will work on a raft going three miles per hour.”

  Evan then relieved Damon of the paddling duties and after about another ten minutes they reached the Mother Washington. Evan reached out and grabbed the swim platform on the back of the boat and held the raft in place while the others climbed aboard. After the last one was on, he tossed the trash can lid like a Frisbee and pulled the air plug on the raft to deflate it and dragged it on-board.

  “We don't want this thing floating back to the beach and giving someone a clue,” he said as he pulled it into the main salon area.

  Jason looked at Damon and said, “Arg, what be ye orders thar Cap'n.”

  “Well,” Damon responded with a chuckle, “I want to idle out of here quietly and under the cover of darkness. It's almost sunrise now, and it will take me a while to go through everything and make sure it's ready to travel. Let's all get some much needed rest today, and we will slip out tonight after sunset. Our trail will be a little colder by then as well. Surely their attentions will be on some other insurgents, as they call us, by then. Peggy you take the master stateroom, I'll take the dinette in the kitchen as it converts to a small bed, and Evan and Jason can fight over the V-berth up front versus the couch in the Salon.”

  “I'll take the couch. I'm used to sleeping there every time Molly gets mad at me any way,” Evan joked.

  Damon walked over to the starboard side of the main salon and opened a panel and flipped a few switches. “Okay,” he said. “I've got the battery master on for the house batteries as well as the water pump so that the sinks and head… uh, toilet will work. Just don't flip on any lights unless it's a life or death emergency. We need to practice light discipline because we don't want anyone to know we are on here. The skylights will provide enough light once the sun comes up anyway.”

  “Aye Aye Cap'n,” they all said with a laugh and off to their respective beds they went. Sleep is something they all desperately needed after the events of the past few days.

  Chapter 11: By the Sea

  Molly was making coffee and cooking breakfast while Evan enjoyed lying in bed after a hard day’s work on the Homefront. He had just finished building a new chicken coop to accommodate their growing flock. He could hear the kids playing in the other room as the sun began to creep in through the cracks in the curtains. Well, I guess it's time to get up, he thought to himself. He threw his leg over the edge of the bed and was startled to see Damon standing there in the galley sipping a cup of coffee.

  “Damn it!” he said.

  “What's wrong Evan?” questioned Damon.

  “Oh… I thought you were my wife making breakfast,” said Evan in a deflated tone.

  “Hell, I thought you'd have better taste than that to be able mistake me for her,” Damon said as he chuckled to himself.

  “No, no… I was just having the best dream of being home with my family is all. But here I am. Dang, I must have slept like a rock.” He scratched his head and put his ball cap back on.

  “The ocean will rock you to sleep like the best mother, not to mention the fact that you hadn't slept in days,” replied Damon.

  “Well, either way, I'd love a cup of coffee,” Evan said as he stood to stretch.

  “Yeah, I didn't want to fire up the diesel generator because it would just draw attention to us, but I happened to remember this stove top is dual use.

  It has electric burner elements, but also has alcohol burners in the center of each element for rainy days... or the end of the world as we know it. It works for either.” They shared a laugh as Damon poured Evan a cup of fresh hot coffee.

  Just then, Jason crawled out of the forward V-berth and came into the galley and proclaimed, “Oh, hell yes! Coffee!” Damon handed him a freshly poured cup.

  “Ahhhh, a remnant of civilization,” he said as he took a sip.

  “Sorry, there are no bacon and eggs, but there was some instant oatmeal in the pantry. I whipped a batch up for breakfast… or dinner, whatever you want to call this. It's in that pot on the stove and the bowls are in the cupboard. You fellows help yourselves,” Damon said.

  “So how long have you been up and about?” asked Evan.

  “Oh, a couple of hours,” he replied. “I wanted to get all of the loose ends tied up long before sunset.”

  “Damn, it's three o'clock,” said Jason looking at his watch.

  “Yep, I'm surprised no one heard you guys snoring all the way from the shore,” he said with a grin. “Everything looks ready to go, except for fuel. This thing has always had sticky fuel gauges, so I need to stick the tanks to get a reliable reading. The tanks are under sleeping beauty's bed in the back. The last thing we want to do is head out and run out of fuel and end up adrift at sea.”

  Evan walked over to the back of the salon where the door to Peggy's sleeping quarters was and knocked lightly.

  “Just a minute,” she said followed shortly by her coming up the short flight of stairs into the salon.

  Peggy was delightfully surprised to see a semi-hot meal and coffee awaiting her. After they exchanged pleasantries, they all ate breakfast while Damon went into the aft stateroom to stick the tanks for fuel. After a few minutes, he returned with a smile and said, “Three-quarters in the port tank, and nearly full starboard, that's more than enough. Now all we have to do is wash up and wait for sunset,” he said with a spring in his step.

  They each took their turns taking a shower. The propane-powered hot water heater provided just enough hot water for each shower, but after what they had been through, any shower at all felt like a luxury. That evening they all gathered in the salon, avoiding the weather decks so as not to be seen, and watched the sunset while eating what seemed like a gourmet meal of boxed macaroni and cheese, Vienna sausages, and a can of green beans which were all prepared on the alcohol burners. They enjoyed the day hiding out on the boat as they each knew once they got underway, all bets were off.

  After the sun went down, Damon said, “Okay, folks, here's the plan. We are gonna just fire up one engine and idle out of here with all lights off around midnight. We will go on a southeasterly heading to clear Long Island as fast as we can, while avoiding the Jersey Shore as well. I've been listening to the common maritime frequencies on the radio, and there isn't much chatter at all. I can't tell if there are any sort of patrol boats like Coast Guard, Navy, or any of the alphabet agencies out there keeping the coast on lockdown. We will have to just play that by ear.”

  He then walked to the forward v-berth and lifted the cushions to reveal the storage compartments that were located underneath. He pulled out two rolls of canvas that appeared to simply be extra canvas soft top material. He l
aid them both down on the dinette table and unrolled them to reveal a pair of M1 Garand rifles. One was a 1943 H&R and the other was a Springfield Armory from 1944. Both were in great shape to be old warhorses.

  “Here, guys. I'll be at the helm, so you are our defensive team. I'd like one forward and one aft while underway, each with binoculars and a Garand. If we make contact with an unfriendly or unknown, we will try avoidance, but if that doesn't work, those .30-06 Garands will penetrate a boat hull better than those puny 5.56mm ARs. We've also got three ammo cans of pre-loaded Garand clips. Each of you take one of the cans and we will leave the third amidships for whoever ends up needing it. Peggy, you stay on the flybridge with me so you can help be my eyes and ears, as well as being a runner or messenger between me and our artillery units here. I'll use the lower salon bridge to fire it up and get us out of here, and then I'll transition up to the flybridge once we are safely clear of New York.”

  Just then, two large explosions, only seconds apart, rocked the city off in the distance. A huge fireball erupted into the sky, lighting up Manhattan Island like it was daylight.

  ”Dang, what was that?” exclaimed Peggy.

  “Could be anything. Could be more hits from whomever, could also be that the city’s gas supply may have continued to flow all of this time until it found an ignition source. All I know is, I'm glad we are going the other way,” said Damon.

  “Dang, it looks like at least half the city is engulfed,” added Jason as he looked on in horror at what was becoming of the city that was a former symbol of American greatness.

  “Well, guys, let's move. Evan, undo our mooring line as soon as you hear an engine running,” ordered Damon.

  Following Damon's instructions, Evan ran up on the bow to cast off the mooring line. He stopped momentarily to look off in the distance at the flames devouring the city. He said a silent prayer for those poor souls who may still be on the island, including Glen. He heard the starboard Detroit Diesel roar to life and looked through the front window into the salon bridge to see a thumbs-up from Damon. He cast off the line and felt the Mother Washington surge ahead as Damon slipped it into gear. He then climbed down through the forward deck hatch and walked back into the salon through the galley, joining up with the others.

  Damon reached out to the console, flipped the port engine to run, hit the start button, and said, “Screw idling out on one engine! That's when I thought it was going to be a quiet night. I'm sure everyone is a little preoccupied right now to be noticing us,” he said as he pushed both throttles forward bringing the forty seven foot long boat to life.

  As the Mother Washington surged forward and gradually came up on plane, Damon flipped on the radar and said, “We sure don't want to run into anyone in the dark at full speed. If anyone else is out here, they are probably running dark as well.”

  As they sped away and into the darkness of the Atlantic, they could see a few radar returns out on the horizon. Damon made course adjustments as necessary, giving them as much distance on each target as possible. Off in the distance, Peggy saw some blinking lights out over the water paralleling the Jersey shore and coming right at them. She elbowed Damon and said, “What’s that coming at us?”

  “Aircraft,” he said. “Judging from the altitude, I'd guess helicopters.” He held his current course in an attempt to avoid provoking a pursuit.

  Up on the bow, Evan watched as they approached with his M1 clutched tightly in his hands, knowing that he would most certainly be outgunned in an altercation with a Blackhawk. As the blinking lights reached the Mother Washington, they blasted overhead at what seemed like only a few hundred feet and continued towards the burning city.

  “Yep, they've got no time for us,” Damon said.

  Once they were a safe distance out to sea, and the city was just a clump of flickering lights off on the horizon, Damon pulled the power back and the boat settled down into a leisurely ten-knot cruise. He and Peggy left the salon and climbed topside to the flybridge. Once settled in on the flybridge, Damon called for Evan and Jason to join him.

  “Okay, guys, we got out of there much easier than I expected. Now the plan is to parallel the coast at least five miles out until we are south of New Jersey, then turn west and head directly for the Delaware Bay. That's where I would expect things to be a little dicier. Surely we aren't the only people to consider the water a safe haven from the mayhem going on ashore. You three go and get some rest while I mind the store for now. If I need you, I'll press this button and a bell will ring in the salon. I can see everything just fine from up here and I'm almost home to my family. Your journey is just beginning. Rest while you can.”

  “Are you sure you don't want Evan and myself taking turns standing watch with you?” Jason asked with concern.

  “No thanks, I'll be fine,” replied Damon.

  With that, Evan, Jason, and Peggy all went downstairs for a nap. Peggy went back to the stateroom, while Evan and Jason took their previous bunk positions as well. Jason and Peggy both fell asleep relatively quick, but Evan remained awake and restless, wondering what the next day would bring. The boat ride was going as they had planned to this point; however, once they arrived ashore, they would be facing an entirely new situation. At this point, that entire scenario is uncertain. First and foremost, they would need to try to contact home. Home… oh, how he longed to be home with his beautiful wife and children where he belonged.

  As he finally began to drift off to sleep, the bell rang, and he felt the Mother Washington make a dramatic turn as it began to accelerate hard. He nearly fell off of the couch from the apparent evasive maneuver. He leaped off the couch and grabbed his Garand as Jason followed closely behind. They ran out of the salon and up to the flybridge.

  Evan yelled, “What’s going on?”

  “A boat closed in on us pretty fast and he was running dark as well. I turned ninety degrees and opened her up and they changed course to follow. They are right behind us and gaining. There is no chance a friendly would be behaving like that.”

  Just then, a spot light from the pursuing boat illuminated the flybridge of the Mother Washington and a flare was fired overhead. A loud speaker blasted the message, “Stop! Arreter! Alto! immediately, or you will be fired upon!” It was still too dark behind them to see more than a shadow of the rapidly approaching vessel, so Damon flipped on the remote controlled spotlight that his brother had installed on the radar mast, and spun the light around to illuminate their pursuers. A few rapid fire shots rang out from the other boat that seemed to be intended for the light. Bullets danced off of the radar mast and some hit near the bridge where Damon was operating the boat. Unfortunately, the design of the flybridge being open from the rear gave Damon nowhere to take cover.

  Evan dove onto the aft deck and let all eight rounds of his Garand clip fly in the direction of the spotlight. Jason joined in on the volley of suppressing fire, taking cover behind the steps leading up from the salon. Upon Evan's eighth round, his bolt locked back as he heard the ping from his rifle ejecting the empty clip. He slammed another clip into the top of the action, letting the op rod slam forward to reengage the aggressor. He resumed firing and a blast of fiberglass flew into his face as a round impacted the hull of the Mother Washington, just inches from where he was firing from the prone position. Momentarily stunned and feeling pain in his left eye, Evan reopened his right eye to see a figure in a firing position on the bow of the pursuing boat, which was now just twenty yards in trail. Quickly aiming for center mass, he let off a pair of .30-06 shots at the assailant. The first shot tore into his abdomen. The second shot went high as it recovered from recoil and, with the power of the venerable .30-06 at such a close range, took off the left side of the man’s head.

  Jason continued to fire into the helm of the pursuing vessel, reloading twice before it made an erratic turn, nearly losing control and breaking off the pursuit. Taking advantage of the pause of the attack, Evan felt around on his face to ascertain the extent of his injuries. He felt so
me minor cuts and lots of fiberglass splinters, but his eye, thankfully, seemed intact. It was still too painful to open at this point, so he just kept it closed and leaped up to check on everyone else.

  To his horror, he turned around to see Jason pulling a limp, bloody Damon from his seat at the helm. Evan ran up to the flybridge and pulled the throttles back to idle, then turned to help Jason get Damon to the deck.

  “He's been hit in the back at least a couple times,” exclaimed Jason. “He's got a lot of frothy blood, so it looks like a lung shot.”

  Damon's labored breathing gurgled from his wounds and began to slow, and then stopped as his life slipped away from him. In shock from what had just happened, Evan looked around at all of the blood on the bridge and the now lifeless man who had helped get them out of New York. He felt a mixture of heartbroken sadness and rage. He then thought about Peggy and ran down the stairs, through the salon, and into the aft stateroom to find her cowering on the floor, using the bed for cover. While they had been firing at Evan, who was lying just above her on the deck above, they had riddled the back wall of the stateroom with bullets. She was terrified, having been awakened by bullets impacting just above her head.

  He knelt down to her and said, “It’s okay, it's all over now. They are gone. We shot the hell out of them so I doubt we will be bothered by them anymore.”

  “Who was it? What did they want? Why the hell were they shooting at us?” she asked frantically.

  “I'm not sure. We didn't get to introductions before it hit the fan,” replied Evan.

  “Is everybody okay?” she asked.

  “Jason is fine. Damon... well... he didn't make it. He got hit in the back while trying to get us away from them. He died protecting us,” Evan said as a tear rolled down his cheek.