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

by Zack Finley

  I wanted to go downriver another hour or so before putting these men ashore. None of us had spotted the pirate towboat since the last battle, and I didn’t want to make it easy for our captives to rejoin Captain Ellis and his merry band of pirates.

  These guys were in much better shape than Kurt, so I bet they’d do alright if released. There wasn’t any reason to just kill them since they posed no threat to the Valley. By dispersing them, they didn’t even represent any particular risk for our return voyage.

  Another big bend in the river, another 10 miles. Razor and Joel took the first batch of prisoners to the far shore.

  I don’t think the prisoners actually believed we’d let them go free until it happened. I went up to the wheelhouse to keep Kurt company, taking an ammo can and a batch of empty magazines. I wanted a full load for the trip on the patrol.

  I wasn’t leaving on the patrol boat until we knew about Craig, and as the miles churned by, I began to worry that the surgery was taking too long. Once the prisoners were gone, the guys dispersed to get some rest before the next adventure.

  I was relieved when Tom came into the wheelhouse, he sat wearily in the other chair, behind the helm. “Craig’s fine,” Tom said. “It would have been trivial if he hadn’t let it bleed so much. Most of my time was spent digging crap out of the wound track. The bullet fragment wasn’t very deep, so that was an easy recovery.”

  “I’m planning to leave your Allie, Joel, and Kurt,” I said. “Do you need Mike, too?”

  “No, I’ll make sure Mike has a medic pouch, he has enough training to stabilize most wounds, should that be necessary. I’ll make sure he has antibiotics and pain meds for Andy’s wounded,” Tom said. “I doubt he can do much more for them at this stage.”

  “What about Craig?” I asked.

  “We put him back in the Stokes stretcher on the floor,” Tom said. “I’ll watch over him until he wakes up. That’s as good a place for him as any other. We can move him somewhere else if we need to. I don’t think there is much of a threat he’ll start bleeding, but I’d rather not move him for at least a day.”

  That was a big relief, I felt the weight of the world lift from my shoulders.

  “Kurt has been a great help,” I said. “He’s been steering the boat since the shoot out.”

  “Glad to hear it,” Tom said, putting a hand on the boy’s shoulder and giving it a squeeze. “We were lucky to find him.”

  “We are leaving you the SAW,” I said. “You have two and a half cans of ammo for it. Get Joel to move it if you need to. I’m leaving Ben with the patrol boat, so if we aren’t back before you get near the St. Francis River, give him a call. I think you can push up against the bank and stay there until we report back. Helena sounds like a mess, so I’m not heading there unless we have a reason to.”

  It had been nearly six days since we got Andy’s call. We were getting close, and I hoped they found a safe place to hole up. A lot could happen in six days. It was time to get this show on the road.

  “Tom says Craig is doing fine, he’s just woozy right now. We can check on him when we get back. Ben, Razor, Mike and I are leaving on the patrol boat in 30 minutes,” I radioed. “Bring three ninjas and full battle rattle.”

  Tom wished me luck, and I left to use the head, fill my camelback, and find my ruck.

  I wasn’t the only one who peeked in on Craig before we left. He was wrapped in blankets and strapped to the Stokes stretcher. I doubted he’d be there long after he woke up. Allie was asleep on one of the bench seats in the galley. I didn’t wake her.

  Joel came to unhook our boat. Mike reported he had his combat medic pack and had consulted with Tom. Ben and Razor were securing the ninjas to the outside of the cabin as I got on board. All of us had our M4s. Ben mounted his M17 SCAR LB in a rack inside the cabin probably set up to hold a shotgun. It would at least keep it from getting knocked around.

  I looked over the patrol boat carefully but saw no signs of bullet holes. The only explanation I had was the pirates wanted to capture it intact and avoided shooting at it. I still had the Jersey Girl river charts. Razor insisted on driving and Ben appointed himself as copilot. I handed him the charts and sat in the backseat next to Mike. The seats were actually comfortable, and there was plenty of storage space for our rucks.

  The cabin had a heater which had been on since Razor started the engines. The cabin was roomier than the Cumberland’s wheelhouse, and it even had a toilet area.

  “Joel, unhook us,” Razor radioed.

  The Cumberland/Jersey Girl pulled away before Razor put our vessel in gear and eased the throttle up. We passed our mothership on our starboard side, and Razor pushed us to cruising speed. I looked at my watch, it was 15:00. Razor settled in at a steady 35 knots. It felt like we were flying across the water. Ben was keeping close watch ahead for logs or other debris we needed to avoid.

  I was pleased to be inside the cabin with the heater on. It wasn’t below freezing outside, but with a 40 mile an hour wind driving it, we’d have suffered from hypothermia in minutes. Another good reason to leave the dive boat behind.

  We passed a series of casinos on the Mississippi side of the river soon after leaving the Cumberland. Two were burned out hulks. One looked like some kind of castle, not that looking was easy to do at this speed and bumpiness. One of them had some type of dock, but no large boats were parked there.

  The serpentine nature of the Mississippi River was a lot more evident at 40 miles per hour than it was at 10 mph. It was also a lot more worrying. Hitting a dike at 10 mph would be bad. Hitting it at 40 mph would be deadly.

  The river banks sped by, with a grain silo and loading area on the Mississippi side. Then there were just dikes and levees. Forests, uprooted trees, mud flats, and riprap. When boundaries of Arkansas and Mississippi were first established the river was much different here. According to the chart, bits of Arkansas were on the east side and chunks of Mississippi were on the west side of the river. Not that it mattered now.

  State boundaries were meaningless. What mattered now was how the Mississippi River separated the region. Yet it was also a wild resource. Who needed solar to generate electricity if you had the Mississippi River current nearby? It made me think of the untapped potential at home of the Mecklin River, especially during the winter when solar was limited.

  And then we were there. It didn’t look that much different than any other stretch of the river. The water from the St. Francis River joining the main stem of the Mississippi River was a different color, but I’d seen that many times on this journey.

  We almost overshot our objective, since it looked so much like the rest of the scenery. It meant we weren’t as stealthy in our approach as I’d hoped to be. Razor throttled down immediately and slid our boat firmly against the soft mud of the downriver bank. The rest of us left the boat while Razor shut down the engines.

  Razor stayed in the boat while the rest of us dashed into the tree line, alert for anything. The anticipation was building in me. I hadn’t seen Andy in years, but it was more than that. It was more than that, we made it. Now, all we had to do was load up and head for home.

  I was surprised no one came to investigate our arrival. Even the fitful breeze couldn’t disguise the noise we made coming in.

  I took point, and we moved to the edge of the opening where Andy said he’d either be or where he’d leave a message.

  I held off my disappointment after a search confirmed there was no one in the area. His group had either never been here, or it had obviously moved on. There had to be an easy explanation, I just needed to find his message.

  There was no hint of warmth in the fire ring, the ashes were wet and cold. There were plenty of beer bottles, some broken, some intact. A lot of cigarette butts and other assorted trash consistent with a pre-crash party site. But no sign it had been a serious camp for 20 people. And no note.

  Where could they be?

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  Author’s note:

  Dear r
eader, thank you for reading “To the Rescue; Surviving the Black—Book 2.” If you enjoyed it, please review or rate the novel on Amazon and Goodreads. Independent authors depend on reader reviews to help others find our books. With thousands of titles published each month, it is hard to know which books are worth taking a chance on. Your reviews help.

  This book continues the post-apocalyptic saga I began with “Breckinridge Valley.” I was stunned by my readers’ response to that novel and immediately reprioritized my writing plans to concentrate on the second book in this series.

  “To the Rescue” continues the story of the families in Breckinridge Valley of northeast Tennessee dealing with the aftermath of a devastating coronal mass ejection. It is part of a series and not really meant as a standalone title.

  I began the series, which is a substantial break from my fantasy series “Dire Prophesy” and my romantic mystery “Mayhem in Mendocino” because this topic interested me. While we hope there will never be an event which triggers TEOLAWKI, I can’t stop speculating about what comes after the SHTF.

  I tried to imagine where one could live in the United States following such a disruption with excellent survival prospects. I needed a place with a location where families could grow their own food, yet far enough from large cities and interstates to make survival possible. Much of our country is too dry, too hot, too cold, or too urban. That led me to northeastern Tennessee. I lived in Fort Campbell in my youth, so I was familiar with the area.

  Modern dependence on electricity and a just-in-time supply chain for everything from food to medicines have put most of us less than a month’s disruption away from a nightmarish existence. When civilization breaks down what are we left with?

  Minor power outages trigger looting in cities. After a tornado, hurricane, or major forest fire, criminals seem to arrive before assistance. Even with a robust law enforcement presence, villains attempt to take advantage during a disaster.

  It takes only a modest imagination to extrapolate current events into a dystopian future triggered by a seriously damaged electrical grid.

  Follow me on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/direprophecy/

  Check out my other titles on Amazon:

  Breckinridge Valley; Surviving the Black—Book 1 https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07MY95YV8/

  Dire Prophecy https://amzn.to/2stvyDg

  Mad Toffad's Keep https://amzn.to/2FwGis8

  Duchy Unleashed https://amzn.to/2D8qdaj

  Mayhem in Mendocino https://amzn.to/2M96lXI

  ◆◆◆

  List of characters

  from Breckinridge Valley; Surviving the Black-Book 1

  Breckinridge Family

  Jeremy Breckenridge, main storyteller. Father to Jennifer and Melissa. Major in Rangers before the death of wife, Irene. Age 42 when Book 2 begins. Civil engineer. Wife Irene died days before the start of “Breckinridge Valley.” Daughters Jennifer (13); Melissa (10).

  Aaron and Claire Breckinridge are the parents of Jeremy, Steve, and Alice. Claire is an expert in computers, investing, local food folklore. Aaron (67) served in the Vietnam War and loves farming.

  Gerald Breckenridge, a.k.a. grandpa or Pops died 10 years before the start of “Breckinridge Valley.” Father to Bob, Aaron, and George and grandfather of Jeremy, Steve, and Alice. Wife Esther, grandma or granny, still lives in the Valley.

  George Breckinridge, the bachelor son of Gerald and Esther, is in charge of all livestock operations in the Valley.

  Steve and Mandy Breckenridge. Steve is the oldest son of Aaron and Claire, parents to Joe (16), Ellie (13) and Billy (11). Ran solar manufacturing center in Huntsville and recruited technical personnel to the Valley cause.

  Significant Valley allies

  Roger and Carmine Carlton. Roger served in the Vietnam War with Aaron Breckenridge. He is Aaron’s best friend and right-hand man. Roger is head of the Valley defense force and is the intelligence chief. Children Andy, Jules, and Audrey.

  Jules Carlton best friend of Jeremy growing up. Became astrophysicist with interest in the sun. Lives in California and warned Valley about CME. Not heard from since.

  Andy Carlton lives in Arizona with wife and children. Told Roger he had a group of allies and a bug out location in Arizona.

  Audrey and Jim Smith, Audrey is the daughter of Roger Carlton. They live in the Valley. Jim works closely with George Breckinridge.

  Dr. Amelie Jerrod, doctor, and former refugee. Mother of Jimmie and Clarice. Recruited by Claire Breckinridge.

  Jacob and Rachel Neufeld, a Mennonite couple making a home in the Valley.

  Sally, an expert in space weather and radios. Main Valley HAM operator.

  The 20 Rangers

  The group of 20 Rangers recruited by Jeremy is designated Force Beta. Not all have been named in these books.

  Zeke owned a gun store in Oneida before the crash. Lost leg from IED in Afghanistan. Gunsmith and armorer.

  Craig, a sniper, living in Jeremy’s home. Recovering alcoholic was attending junior college until the crash.

  Scott was severely wounded in a shootout with the militia. He is still recovering at the start of “To the Rescue.”

  Buzzer and Matt were very involved in protecting the seniors in the Huntsville middle school.

  Mike received a minor wound in taking the Mecklin County Justice Center.

  Ben was a natural leader and was qualified as a sniper.

  Pete, Razor, Joel, Eric, and Matt are Rangers identified in the story.

  Force Gamma

  Twenty people from the Valley defense force assigned to Force Beta for training. Serve as backup for Force Beta.

  Other players

  Sheriff Lewis, elected to office in Mecklin County, TN. Murdered by Deputy Allen group.

  Major Thomas, commander of National Guard Armory in Oneida.

  Jerry Hill owns a trucking company. Placed trailers to block roads into Huntsville area just after the crash. Contact with the Mormon community.

  Deputy Jenson killed in Huntsville after the crash. Served as a turning point for law enforcement in Huntsville.

  Deputies Brian and Jake were captured and agreed to assist Valley forces in the takeover of the Mecklin County Justice Center.

  Deputy Allen, a pedophile, and murder who overthrew Sheriff Lewis and assumed control of the forces holding the Justice Center. Escaped from the Justice Center.

  Significant locations

  Breckinridge Valley located off the Mecklin River in Mecklin County Tennessee. More than 5,000 arable acres surrounded by forestland. Water supplied by large spring and stream running through Valley that flows into Mecklin River. Connected to the mainland by a single bridge over the Mecklin River. Some undeveloped trails could provide emergency escape route with some effort. Large buffer around the Valley is owned by the Breckinridge family acquired over the past 70 years.

  Huntsville, Tennessee is the county seat for Mecklin County. It is a sprawling rural area with only 1,000 people living in the city limits. It is the site for the new Mecklin County Justice Center. It stretches along TN-297 and its intersection with US-27.

  Mecklin County is bordered to the north by the border with Kentucky. It is located on the Cumberland Plateau and is known for its natural beauty. Its pristine forests, streams, and rivers were once a mecca for hikers, hunters, paddlers, and fisherman. Even before the crash, it was sparsely populated with only 20,000 residents.

  Oneida is the largest city in Mecklin County with 3,600 people. It has a Walmart Supercenter and a county hospital.

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