Yellowstone: Survival: A Post-Apocalyptic Survival Thriller (The Yellowstone Series Book 4)

by Bobby Akart

  “Well, it makes our job easier. Let’s check this place out, starting with the building behind us marked la despensa.”

  They made their way between the buildings and emerged at the point where they’d first entered the compound. Jake stood in front of the steel door and tried each of his keys. He was growing frustrated until he inserted the next-to-last key. It slid in smoothly, and with a grin, he hesitated before turning the lock to open the door.

  It was dark inside the windowless building, but Jake easily located the light switches. The fluorescent lights flickered while their starters sent a jolt of electricity to the ionized gas inside the tubes. Eventually, all but one warmed to the task, brightening the open room and revealing its contents.

  “Hello, Betty!” exclaimed Jake using a little-known phrase claimed by surfers to salute attractive girls on the beach. The saying dated back to the 1940s, but Jake was a throwback kinda guy.

  “Who?” asked a curious Ashby.

  “Nobody. Never mind. Check this out. We’ve hit the mother lode.”

  Ashby walked into the center of the room, in which a single desk stood with a ledger on top. Throughout the space were metal shelves stretching twelve feet high and spaced only wide enough to fit a rolling ladder between them. The shelves were stocked with canned goods, toiletries, and every supply one could want for a long time away from civilization.

  Ashby became giddy with laughter. “Jake, if we don’t go crazy, we could live here a long, long time with all of this stuff.”

  “Oh, yeah. We can catch fish for our main meals, supplemented by all of these supplies. Wow!” He paused and then he hugged Ashby, lifted her off the ground, and spun her around a few times.

  Jake finally stopped and Ashby struggled to find her balance after the twirl. “We’re lucky nobody else has discovered all of this.”

  “If the navy only bugged out a week ago, the locals, or those guys on the boats, haven’t had the courage to look around. It could be those idiots today were supposed to, but they got distracted by their booze-infused attack on those kids.”

  Ashby nodded and patted Jake on the back. “Lucky for us. For them, not so much. They got what they deserved, Jake.”

  “Yeah, really, they did,” he added before quickly changing the subject. “Let’s check out the rest of the compound.”

  They went back to the administration building to retrieve their backpacks and made their way to the residential barracks. A single master key worked all the locks for the residential housing units.

  On the lower level of the compound adjacent to the courtyard, the buildings were divided into six cubicle-style rooms, which shared a bath. The bungalows, which rose up the hill, varied in size and décor, with the first of the buildings belonging to Comandante Lanz, and the remaining bungalows set up for officers and families. Jake and Ashby chose the commander’s quarters, which were only slightly better equipped than a Hampton Inn hotel room.

  After they got settled in and cleaned up, they made their way to the buildings on the other side of the administration offices. There, they found a Catholic church and a mess hall adjacent to it. Because the solar array provided continuous power to the facility, the mess hall had large walk-in coolers not unlike any restaurant.

  “Jake, they have fryers, cooktops, a griddle, and full refrigeration,” summarized Ashby. “The walk-in freezer is stocked full of frozen meats and vegetables. The walk-in refrigerator has all kinds of vegetables, although they need to be eaten fairly quickly. They are most likely two weeks old.”

  Jake wandered around the picnic tables spread about the mess hall. The tables were covered with condiments like salt, pepper, and Cholula sauce. He shook his head and leaned against one of the tables. “I don’t know what to say. I mean, part of me wants to jump up and down in excitement. But after what we’ve been through, I’m afraid to get my hopes up or put down roots. Each place we’ve found ended up in disaster.”

  “That’s true, but you have to admit it looks good on paper,” added Ashby.

  “Okay, let’s just say we decide to plant our flag here,” began Jake, which drew a laugh from Ashby. “Claimed, as they said on The Walking Dead.”

  “Yeah, claimed!” parroted Ashby.

  “We have some loose ends to tie up. Tomorrow, we need to get a handle on those ships anchored offshore, after I dispose of their dead buddies, of course. Then we need to bring the yacht around, fill up her diesel tanks, and stock it with provisions.”

  “You want to have it prepared for a quick getaway, right?”

  “Yeah. We can’t assume anything. With full tanks of diesel and enough nonperishable food for a couple of weeks, we can be real selective where we go in South America.”

  “I agree on all of this, and tomorrow it will be our number one priority. What about the Mexican children? Should we locate where they live?”

  Jake nodded as he made his way past Ashby toward the walk-in refrigerator. He opened the door and a rush of cold air washed his body. He reached onto a shelf and grabbed a bunch of bananas. After handing one to Ashby, he continued. “That whole situation is odd. If the military pulled out, why wouldn’t they take all of the dependents with them. Even if they weren’t military, I can’t imagine that they left them behind.”

  Ashby finished her banana and took another one from the bunch. As she peeled the overripe fruit, which was technically a berry, she couldn’t help but remain upbeat. “I say we pig out tonight and figure it out tomorrow. I’m withering away.”

  Jake laughed and gave her a squeeze. “Let me take care of the cooking. You can stand watch out front, but remain in the shadows, okay? We don’t know what to expect, and this compound is lit up like a Christmas tree. They’ll be able to see us before we’ll see them.”

  She exchanged high fives with Jake and grabbed her rifle together with a large bag of Planters trail mix, which was on a rack near the door. As she headed outside, she shouted over her shoulder, “Don’t be shy in that kitchen. I’m ravenous!”

  Chapter 34

  The Pacific Ocean

  Isla Socorro

  “Ashby, where are you?” shouted Jake as he walked sleepily into the grassy area outside the commander’s quarters. After they ate an enormous dinner, he’d taken the first watch because he was still hyped up from the gun battle with the men. After several hours of self-reflection, he justified his shooting of the escaping marauder. The naval compound was like finding a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow for him and Ashby. Isla Socorro had the potential to be their home for a long time, years in fact. In a post-apocalyptic world, if you can’t defend it, it isn’t yours. Shooting the man as he fled was just one of many acceptable practices necessary to protect what they had.

  “I’ve made some new friends!” she replied from off in the distance.

  Jake retreated into the bungalow, finished getting dressed, and grabbed his rifle, a constant companion now. He could hear Ashby speaking in soft tones, but he couldn’t hear any responses. Jake thought maybe the children had returned, but when he turned the corner past the administration building and saw Ashby sitting on the benches in front of the mess hall, he managed a smile.

  Ashby was surrounded by cats, at least half a dozen by Jake’s count. She was hand-feeding them trail mix, careful to keep the raisins for herself. As they accepted the treat, in a show of appreciation, they rolled around on the short Bermuda grass in front of her, and then returned for more.

  As Jake approached, the cats scattered, but not far away. They had to conduct their own form of threat assessment.

  “Where did these guys come from?” Jake asked as he slid onto the bench next to her. They kissed and he set his rifle on the table before grabbing a seat on the other bench. He took a quick glance around the compound.

  Ashby shook the bag, and one of the cats approached her cautiously. “At sunrise, I went into the mess hall to grab a few bananas. As I was leaving, I glanced under one of the stainless-steel tables near the serving stations and sa
w this bucket of cat treats.” She showed Jake the clear plastic container of Little Friskies treats.

  “You’re feeding the cats?” asked Jake.

  “Of course,” replied Ashby. “Watch this.” She shook the container and poured some into her hand. A beautiful gray and white cat cautiously approached her for a yummy treat. Ashby tossed them a few feet away from her feet. The cat glanced at Jake and then sat down to eat the treats.

  “Wow, they’re tame,” said Jake dryly.

  “Tame? They’re not mountain lions. Have you never been around cats before?”

  “Yeah, as a kid,” replied Jake. “I’m allergic.”

  “Well, that’s your loss,” said Ashby as she shook the container again. “In the Philippines, there were feral cats everywhere. They’re shy and skeptical at first, but eventually they’ll warm up to you. Come here, Mama Kitty.” Ashby poured some treats into her hand and tossed them in the direction of a particularly fat cat.

  Jake laughed. “Mama Kitty? Really? You’ve named the stray cats. This is hilarious.”

  “They’re not strays, they’re feral. There’s a difference.”

  Jake studied the group of felines as they moved a little closer to him. “They look alike to me.”

  “Stray cats have wandered away from their home and their human companions. They are much more receptive to touch than feral cats. It took me two hours to convince these guys to come anywhere near me. They even rejected the offer of treats. At first they hissed and appeared aggressive, but now they’re used to me.”

  Jake shook his head in disbelief. “Can I feed them?”

  Ashby shook the container again and poured some into Jake’s left hand. “Don’t make any sudden moves, or you’ll scare them away. Also, they might scratch you.”

  “If one of these stray cats scratches me, I’ll shoot it,” growled Jake. His changed tone of voice brought a quick rebuke in the form of a hiss from one of the felines.

  “You will not, or you’ll answer to me,” said Ashby. “Now, be sweet and give it a try. This is Miss Coon Kitty.”

  “Good grief,” said Jake as he slowly allowed the treats to slip through his fingers onto the ground. The cat, whose markings lent the appearance of a raccoon, approached and began to enjoy the morsels.

  “See, that wasn’t so bad,” said Ashby, sealing up the treat container. “I broke the ice for you. I still have one holdout. Do you see that big boy off to the side near the steps?”

  “Yeah. What’s his problem?”

  “I’m not sure,” replied Ashby. “He has yet to come forward.”

  “Have you named him, too?”

  “Yep, that’s Big Boy.”

  Jake leaned back and let out a hearty laugh. This caused the large tomcat to nervously walk back and forth along the top step leading to the courtyard.

  “I see why you call him Big Boy, now. He’s got quite a set on him.”

  Ashby slugged Jake, causing him to lose his balance slightly on the bench. “Shut up, Wheeler! He’s named Big Boy because he’s the biggest cat of them all.”

  Jake couldn’t control himself. “He sure is. I’m thinking he’s the baby daddy to most all of these cats. What a set!”

  Ashby ignored Jake’s laughter and finished feeding the feral cats. After he calmed down, she explained the names and pointed out the features that earned each of them their designations. In addition to the other three, she had Whitey, Button Nose, Happy-Tail / Squishy-Face, and Zero.

  In all, seven cats had gathered around her for breakfast. After Jake got his typical manlike reaction and teasing out of the way, he took a moment to admire Ashby for her tenderness while interacting with the cats. It was a new side to Ashby, and just another reason he’d fallen in love with her.

  The two of them stood and the cats scampered off. Ashby returned the cat treats to the mess hall and pulled the door closed.

  “Don’t you want to get some breakfast?” asked Jake.

  “In a minute, but there’s a building we missed yesterday that you need to see.” Ashby pointed across the courtyard toward the barracks. She led the way past the bloodstained steps where Jake had shot the man in the head the day before. Neither of them paused to look at the evidence left behind.

  Ashby moved between two of the residential buildings toward a stand of trees sitting atop a hill. “Can you see the door?”

  “Yeah. It looks like the entrance to a fallout shelter or some type of underground storage space.”

  Ashby didn’t respond but kept walking. She handed Jake her rifle and retrieved the keys to open up a series of heavy-duty padlocks attached to iron clasps. When the last one was opened, she turned to Jake and reached for the guns.

  “We’ll leave these out here, just in case,” she said to a puzzled, but intrigued Jake. She handed him the flashlight. “There are no lights, so you’ll need this.”

  Jake stuck his head into the dark, cool space and flashed the light along the crates stacked up around the block walls. He didn’t have to know Spanish to understand what the words painted on the crates in stencil meant.

  “Precaución. Explosivos.” Jake read the warnings aloud and entered the cramped space. He dropped to a knee and tucked the flashlight between his chin and shoulder. He carefully opened the top of the crate.

  “Dynamite,” he muttered to himself. He excitedly unpacked another crate. “C-4 and Semtex. What do they need with this stuff?”

  Jake sat back on his heels and scanned the room. There were several other containers labeled in Spanish that he couldn’t understand. He planned on carefully removing everything and taking an inventory.

  Jake emerged from the cramped space and wiped the sweat off his brow, not because he was hot, but because he was nervous.

  “Jake, there are a lot of crates in there, which I assume are full of explosives.”

  “Well, some of them might be accessories like blasting caps, wires, timers, etcetera. Still, I’m shocked they left this behind when they left. This is seriously dangerous stuff.”

  “Why would they have it here in the first place?” asked Ashby before adding, “This base doesn’t seem like it was geared up to do battle.”

  “Beats me, but I’ll take it. They obviously had the presence of mind to remove all the firearms and ammunition. Somehow, in their hasty exit, they forgot about the big stuff.”

  Ashby closed the door and replaced the padlocks, giving each of them a firm shake to make sure they were secure. Jake wandered off toward the south shore and tried to catch a glimpse of the ships anchored to their southwest. The higher elevation brought them into view, but he couldn’t make out any details from this distance.

  He sighed and turned around. “This island is starting to generate more questions than answers. Let’s deal with what we know first, and then worry about the unknown this afternoon. Breakfast, and then we’re gonna have a burial at sea.”

  Chapter 35

  The Pacific Ocean

  Isla Socorro

  Ashby led Jake to her second find from earlier that morning, an older Ford Explorer Sport Trac, assembled at the company’s plant in Sonora, Mexico, many years ago. The keys were in the ignition, and the motor quickly turned over for Jake. He pulled down to the thicket of trees where they’d hidden the dead bodies from the day before. He made Ashby wait in the truck as he loaded them into the pickup truck’s bed.

  “I grabbed the Sambuca bottle for you,” started Ashby. “What are you planning on doing?”

  “Well, the bullet holes in their bodies will be a dead giveaway as to what really happened, pardon the pun. However, I’m counting on the local sea creatures to clean up that evidence for me. As for their boat, I need it to look like an accident caused by too much of that stuff.”

  Jake pointed to the Sambuca and then focused his attention on the steep decline to the dock. He stopped, made a three-point turn with the truck, and eased backwards onto the sturdy structure until he was alongside the dead men’s inflatable. After taking anything of va
lue from their boat, Jake tossed the bodies onto the back in a heap.

  “What can I do to help?” asked Ashby.

  “Take the binoculars and keep watch at the end of the dock. I don’t know if their buddies will be able to hear me drive around, but if they do, we’ll need to be ready.”

  Ashby retrieved the binoculars and began walking toward the end of the dock. “Wait, where are you going?”

  Jake pointed over his shoulder. “Do you see those rocks jutting out into the ocean?”

  “Yeah, lava fingers,” corrected Ashby.

  “Today, they belong to the grim reaper,” said Jake with a smirk. “Just keep watch, and I’ll be back in a bit.”

  “Jake, maybe we should talk about—” started Ashby before he interrupted her.

  “No worries, it’s like riding a bike,” Jake said with a smile as he untied the lines and fired up the outboard engine. He expertly spun the boat around and headed out to sea. He gave her a thumbs-up and shouted back to her, “This won’t take long. Enjoy the show!”

  He sped off and glanced back at Ashby one last time before focusing on the task at hand. While he crashed through the waves, he took another look at the ships docked in the distance. There was no sign of any activity as far as he could tell.

  Once he was several hundred yards offshore, he slowed to an idle. He hoisted the first of the dead men off the floor and dropped him overboard. A wave quickly swept over the body, causing it to roll under before bobbing back to the surface.

  “Yeah, that’s the ticket. Do that several more times and you’ll look tasty to the fish with lots of teeth.”

  Jake let out a cackle, clearly recovering from his mental anguish over the kills from the day before. He’d convinced himself these men needed to die, and now he saw them in a different light, much the same attitude he’d taken with the killing of Ken Kennedy.

  He allowed the waves to push him closer to shore before he tossed another body overboard. Jake was now covered in blood, but he put the slimy feeling out of his mind. He was preparing himself mentally for the final step in the ruse.