To the Rescue; Surviving the Black--Book 2 of a Post-Apocalyptical Series

by Zack Finley

  “Do you need us to send the dive boat?” I radioed.

  “Standby,” radioed Razor.

  “Send the dive boat,” Razor radioed. “Ben, we need you to corral the second boat, before they drift too far downstream.”

  “Roger, on my way,” Ben said.

  “Craig and Joel, you stay with Allie,” I radioed. “Send Kurt to the main deck.”

  Ben and I got into the dive boat, while Joel and Kurt stood by to release us.

  Ben cranked the engine up, and within minutes we caught up with Razor. His two men on deck were keeping their weapons aimed at our pirates.

  “It’s hard to keep guns on them and corral their boats, too. I need you to drag the farthest boat close so we can tow it to the cutter. I want the two guys in it disarmed and face down in the patrol boat,” radioed Razor. “Then we get the other guy.”

  “Roger,” Ben radioed. “Jeremy, get the tow rope ready while I swing around the other boat. I’ll cover them while you get them under tow, then you have them.”

  “Got it, tow rope, then cover them,” I repeated.

  The tow rope was already attached to a cleat on the stern of the dive boat, the rest lay coiled at my feet. My job was to attach the clip to the front of the target boat and dump the rest of the rope in the water as soon as Ben turned our boat around.

  As we approached, we made sure not to get between the patrol boat and the target. Both Ben and I had our M4s at the ready. I was in the front, ready to snag the trailer eye on the target boat.

  While the river current hadn’t seemed significant on the towboat, I noticed we were moving downriver at an alarming clip. I certainly didn’t want to get much closer to the bridge sniper than this.

  “Don’t give our sniper any reason to get blood in this boat,” I reminded the tangoes as I clipped the rope to their craft. “Not sure why you shot at us, but I am hoping this is just a misunderstanding.”

  “Are you Coast Guard?” the tango in front asked.

  “We’ll ask the questions, once we have you on board,” I replied, as Ben eased the front of our boat around. I shifted to cover the two men as the tow rope spooled out. I tossed the coil overboard when it was safe to do so.

  I moved to the stern to monitor the towed boat.

  Killing the man on the first boat must have convinced these two we were dangerous because they behaved perfectly the whole way back to the patrol boat.

  Tom cuffed the men as he dragged them onto the patrol boat. He left them kneeling in the stern.

  “I’m going to release your tow rope, you probably want to keep it out of the prop,” Tom yelled.

  “I got it,” I replied, pulling the rope in hand over hand once Tom unclipped it.

  “We’ll cover you, while you retrieve the last guy,” radioed Razor.

  “Roger,” Ben confirmed. “We’ll transfer him to our boat and tow the other boat back to the cutter.”

  A squelch indicated Razor understood.

  Ben looped our boat around, and I scrambled back to the front. The tow rope wasn’t as neatly coiled as before, but I didn’t think it would tangle. This time, we’d snap on the line and pull the target boat alongside to bring the tango aboard.

  The tango on the second pirate boat was a teenager. He seemed shocked by the death of his boat mate and complied with our commands. I put him on his knees in the bottom of our boat and then doled out the tow rope as Ben turned us toward the cutter.

  “What is your name?” I asked.

  The teen just looked at me, not defiant but still shocked. “You killed my dad,” he said. “Why did you kill my dad?”

  That explained the shock.

  “He was pulling a gun,” I said. “You fired on us first and were told to keep your hands up.”

  “You killed my dad,” the teen repeated.

  I concluded we weren’t going to learn anything significant from this prisoner. I could sympathize with him, too. Who knows what he went through since the lights went out.

  “Joel, be ready to clip the patrol boat to the cutter. We’ll transfer the prisoners first then check out their boats. I’ll send Tom over first, then the two prisoners. Ben will want to come in soon, maybe you can clip him to the other side?” Razor radioed.

  “Ben, pull wide then approach from the port side,” Joel radioed. “Kurt will clip you in.”

  “Roger,” Ben radioed.

  We didn’t really want the disabled boats, especially with a sniper bullet in their engines, but we did want to search them for clues and salvage.

  The cutter remained stationed under the I-40 bridge. Allie was doing a good job matching the current speed to keep the cutter from moving either up or downriver.

  I could see Craig in the wheelhouse with Allie, raking the stretch of river behind us with binoculars.

  I heard a garbled transmission coming from behind us. I had Ben slow our boat down, and I pulled the disabled boat closer. From the way the two interceptors arrived so quickly, I believed this group had radios.

  I lashed the disabled boat to a cleat on the dive boat and hopped on board. There was an AK 47 lying on the deck and beside it was a small FRS radio. I picked up both, hopped back into our boat. I was pleased the teen hadn’t moved.

  Ben put the dive boat back into gear. We left the disabled boat tied to us and continued toward the Cumberland.

  “The boat had an FRS radio. I heard a squawk about 5 minutes ago, but nothing since we retrieved it,” I radioed.

  Razor was already tied to the starboard side of the cutter. The prisoners had their hands tied behind them, so my guys were helping them on board the cutter.

  Kurt helped us tie up, and Mike took possession of our prisoner. Ben shut down our engine, and both of us searched the disabled boat. The pirate craft had once been a pleasure boat, not really a fishing boat and not really a ski boat. It had a 95 horsepower outboard motor, now disabled, and a steering console. It had a captain’s chair at the steering console tucked behind a windscreen. The copilot seat was pushed forward against the front bulkhead with a backward facing seat attached to its back. It had an open deck area and a bench seat in front of the transom. I suspected the backward facing seat was to monitor a skier pre-crash. It looked like the front of the boat had a spot for a fishing chair, but it was empty today.

  I spotted a pistol on the deck but no other weapons and ammo. The boat had tow ropes and a few small fenders, but nothing else of interest. I checked the gas level, and it was only about one-quarter full, so not really worth siphoning, even if we had a place to put it.

  I released the boat and let the current carry it away, tossing the tow ropes and fenders onto the deck of our cutter.

  Razor was by far our scariest questioner. Tom was the most sympathetic. Tom’s technique worked best on amateurs or reluctant terrorists. They were a highly effective good cop/bad cop questioners.

  If Tom could get the teenager past the immediate shock, I thought he could get some quick answers.

  I tasked Razor and Ben with getting answers from the first group and Tom to question the teen. We needed as much intel on this situation as possible.

  Our search of the other disabled boat yielded another radio, two AK 47s, a can of ammo, two pistols, and more tow ropes and fenders. The second boat was more of a fishing boat, with a 125 HP motor, pilot and copilot seats, and a platform fore and aft where fishing seats once fit. There was a mount for a trolling motor.

  I knew this type of boat and was glad Craig disabled it. It would have easily outrun either the patrol or dive boat if it had a chance. It didn’t have much gas in it either. We set it adrift after the search.

  I went up to talk with Craig and Allie.

  “Any movement at the next bridge?” I asked, slipping into the wheelhouse.

  The speed of the disabled boats going downriver with the current was startling. In 20 minutes the first boat was more than halfway to the next bridge.

  “The sniper is still there. He isn’t moving much. Once in a while
I get a flash, so he isn’t very experienced,” Craig said. “There is some kind of boat tucked behind the barges on the Memphis side of the bridge, but I can’t see it well. It sticks out above the barges, so it is probably some kind of towboat.”

  “Do you see a good place to set up and take out the sniper?” I asked.

  “It looks like there is a semi-paved top to the levee along the western bank. If you can put me ashore on the north side of this bridge, I should be able to take a ninja close enough to get a shot. The trees and vines should shield us from his view,” Craig said.

  “Alright, Allie let’s get out of view of the sniper, so he can’t see me ferry Craig and Mike to shore on the dive boat. I’ll drop them off, then come back to the cutter,” I said.

  Craig handed me the binoculars and left to get Mike and their gear together.

  I radioed the plan to the rest of the team.

  As soon as we were hidden from the sniper position, the three of us piled into the dive boat. I started the motor and Kurt released us. It was only 30 feet to the bank, and in a few ticks Craig and Mike were ashore, and I was back with the dive boat, secure against the cutter.

  Once I was back aboard, Allie steered the cutter in an arc to return us to the middle of the channel and aim the Cumberland downriver once again. I wasn’t ready to get too close to the sniper, but I wanted to give him something to watch that was far away from Craig.

  The boats that tried to intercept us came from the Wolf River inlet on the other side of Mud Island. The charts showed several marinas and barge docks in that area. It was also the home of the Memphis Yacht Club. I wasn’t curious enough to go see for myself.

  We were barely crawling downriver, waiting for my questioners and Craig to change the dynamic. If nothing popped before we got too close to the downstream bridge, we’d loop around again, and again until it did.

  I really didn’t want to proceed, until I had more intel.

  I was watching the Wolf River area and downriver mostly, but I still performed a 360-degree sweep every few minutes. I had given up on squatting and but was trying to move around to avoid being too obvious a silhouette.

  “In position,” Craig radioed.

  “I need intel,” I radioed.

  “Coming up,” radioed Razor. Within moments I spotted Razor dragging his prisoner out onto the deck and securing him to a cleat. Joel was right on his heels.

  “Not cross-referenced yet, but this is what I have,” Razor started. “Several of the towboat captains decided this harbor would be a great place to live out the apocalypse. They had barges of coal, fuel, grain, and soybeans. Did you know Memphis has an oil refinery?”

  “Yes, I’d heard that,” I said.

  Tom continued, “After the president’s speech the towboat captains let any of their crew go who wanted to leave, as long as they left on foot. After most of the businesses closed that Sunday before the crash, a bunch of river rats put up barricades at the south harbor area, blocking off any traffic. Somebody drove the steamboat hotel from Mud Island to the south harbor, and that is where they housed anyone not living on a towboat. It sounded like they disconnected the marina from shore and kept people from taking those boats.”

  “What are they up to now?” I asked, becoming edgy as I watched the bridge get closer.

  “My guy doesn’t know how many people these river rats have, but they have been pirating any boats or barges coming down the river,” Tom said. “This bunch was responsible for boarding errant barges and calling for a tow. They haven’t seen many towboats since the first week, but they are supposed to hijack any manned boats. I got the impression, they were ambivalent about whether the crew was dead or alive.”

  “Do they have reinforcements?” I asked. “And, what about the sniper?”

  “My guy was more afraid of the leader of this group than he was me, so I suspect they can bring in some reinforcements. Nobody had armor and not a lot of ammo. They are worried we are Coasties. Nothing on the sniper, I’d have Craig take him out,” Razor said.

  I agreed. “Craig, target authorized,” I radioed.

  “Did he say how many were up Wolf River?” I asked.

  “I think they were it,” Razor said. “When people tried to get out of Memphis, a lot of them went to the waterfront and it sounded like any boats that could float were taken. They have some type of towboat parked under the sniper bridge to move barges around.”

  I barely heard the sound of Craig’s shot above the rumble of our engines.

  “Target down,” Craig radioed. “Moving to check out the barges on this side of the river.”

  “They have some type of towboat and crew ready to intercept barges,” I radioed. “We’ll hold in mid-river until we hear from you.”

  “Roger,” Craig radioed.

  “Razor,” I said. “Check with Ben and Tom and see if they have anything more. I’m thinking of using the patrol boat to capture that towboat. We should launch the patrol boat before we get close to the next bridge. After that, we just rush through the bottlenecks and protect the towboat. We’ll get the lay of the land going down, pick up Andy’s crew, and sneak back through under cover of darkness.”

  “I’ll talk with them, you coming with us?” Razor asked.

  “Yeah, Joel can stay here with Allie. Make sure the prisoners are secure, I don’t want them distracting our crew,” I said.

  “I’ll get the patrol boat crew assembled in 15 minutes. Are we waiting on Craig?” Razor asked.

  “Yeah, I’d rather know what we have on the other side of the blockade before we go through. Whoever is monitoring their radio may suspect something is up by now,” I said.

  “We’ll be ready,” Razor said, slipping out of the wheelhouse.

  “We’ll go through first in the patrol boat,” I said to Allie, sweeping the target area with my binoculars. “I don’t want you coming through the gap until we deal with that downstream threat. Have Joel watch the Wolf River area, just in case our prisoners lied. Use Kurt to help keep watch. This boat is too slow to run away but do your best. Don’t hesitate to have Kurt steer so you and Joel can fend off any pirates.”

  “What do you think is in front of us?” Allie asked.

  “I doubt they have a quick reaction force standing by,” I said. “They may have another observer post, but I doubt it. They probably haven’t had a crewed vessel through here in weeks, so I doubt they are poised to send a horde. I could be wrong, but I suspect they mostly have been dealing with loose barges. We need to be ready, but I don’t think we are facing difficult odds.”

  “Alright, I’ll give Kurt some more time at the helm,” Allie said. “Tom gave him a rifle, so he can be our backup.”

  “Sounds fair. You spot something, call for help,” I said.

  “Here is the raw intel,” Razor radioed. “We definitely have a towboat waiting for us on the Memphis side of the barges. They say only two guys on it but, use caution. The bigger problem is downstream. These river rats have blocked the causeway south to prevent people from driving or walking into the harbor area. They have boats on the main river channel south of the bridges, but most of their assets are in the actual harbor area. In the days after the power went down, they took over that entire industrial area. They stole two riverboat hotels from Wolf River and parked them in the harbor. They have plenty of fuel on barges from the refinery and coal from the power plant. They have plenty of boats but not a lot of people. The guys we captured are on probation.”

  “What is their weapon situation?” I radioed.

  “That seems to be a weakness for them,” Razor radioed back. “According to our probies, they are stingy with automatic rifles and ammo. Mostly they have a mixed arsenal of shotguns and small arms, with a few automatic rifles thrown in. Most of them are at the causeway.”

  “Craig, can you cover the towboat?” I radioed.

  “Give us about 5 minutes to get into a better support position,” Craig radioed back.

  “When Craig gets into posit
ion, we’ll launch the patrol boat, remove the towboat as a threat and retrieve Craig and Mike. We’ll proceed downriver, and Allie will follow,” I radioed.

  By now Kurt was in the wheelhouse with us. He and Allie were discussing the plans as I left to join the patrol boat. Joel was standing by to release us.

  “In position,” Craig radioed. Right on schedule.

  I jumped into the patrol boat just as Razor was cranking the engines. Ben wanted to man the SAW, so Tom and I knelt on the deck, ready to fire as needed.