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

by Bobby Akart

  The remaining corpse was the man he’d shot through the head. The explosiveness of his M16’s NATO round had obliterated the man’s skull when it entered one temple and left through the other side. Jake’s plan would cover the manner of death fairly well if he executed the stunt properly.

  Drawing back on an experience he’d had while filming a stunt for a B movie, Jake positioned the corpse in the front seat next to the steering wheel. He wrapped the body’s arms through the stainless-steel helm and pushed the corpse back against the seat.

  Jake took a deep breath and exhaled to steady his nerves. He got his head right and focused. For this stunt, timing was everything, or there would be two bodies crushed in the grim reaper’s bony grasp.

  “Here we go, boys,” yelled Jake, channeling his favorite rodeo cowboy, Cooper Armstrong. He forced the throttle down, and the inflatable boat lurched forward. Jake held the wheel to maintain his balance and keep the boat on course. It rode the waves directly toward the target he’d identified from the shore.

  He was now a hundred yards away, speeding along at thirty-five miles an hour. The high-pitched outboard engine propelled the boat toward the lava fingers. Jake took another deep breath, but he held it this time.

  At thirty yards away, he released the steering wheel and dove overboard, making sure to push as far away from the boat as possible to avoid the propeller. He would know within a second if he was safe, or chum.

  He dove underwater, where the sound of the motor switched from a high-pitched squeal to a deep rumble. Jake swam as hard as he could to see the results of his effort. His head broke the surface just as the boat met its fate.

  The inflatable crashed into a jagged hunk of hardened lava, crushing the bow and turning the boat upward. The sudden impact caused the man’s body to lurch forward, headfirst toward the rocks. Jake couldn’t hear the impact of body tissue colliding with the lava fingers at thirty-five miles an hour, but he was able to see the results. It was gruesome.

  The boat flipped upward, the outboard engine whirring in midair before it came crashing onto the rocks. It splintered in multiple chunks of aluminum, plastic, and inflatable material as the boat bounced along the jagged rock until it slammed into the cliff.

  And as fast as Jake’s stunt started, it was over just as quickly. The seas were quiet as blood began to spread across the surface in all directions. Jake immediately recalled the great white sharks feasting on Mike and his buddies.

  “It’s time to go,” he mumbled as he began to swim for the dock as quickly as his legs and arms could move him.

  Chapter 36

  The Pacific Ocean

  Isla Socorro

  Jake was exhausted after the long swim back to the dock, especially in his heightened state of anxiety. The rush he’d received from pulling off the dangerous stunt had worn off, and now he found himself exhausted as he climbed up the rusted steel ladder onto the dock. As soon as he saw Ashby’s face, he knew he’d have a little more work to do.

  She stood over him with her arms folded and tears streaming down her face. She wasn’t relieved to see him, nor did she appear impressed at the feat. He wasn’t sure what to say as he stood on the dock, dripping with water and still somewhat covered in blood.

  “Ashby, are you okay? What’s wrong?”

  She shook her head and wiped her eyes with her arms. She tried to speak and then shook her head as if to tell herself to keep quiet. That was when Jake realized she was angry.

  “I’m fine,” she finally mumbled. “I’m glad you are, too.”

  Jake reached out for her and she picked up the pace to return to the pickup truck. Jake exhaled and allowed the last of the spike of adrenaline to subside. He trotted to catch up to her. He made his way in front of her and walked backwards as he spoke. She continued to look past him toward the pickup.

  “Come on, Ashby. I’m fine. It wasn’t that big of a deal.”

  Ashby stopped and looked him in the eye. “It was a big deal, Jake. You were flying toward those rocks. What if you had slipped on the wet deck or in some blood? Suppose your foot got caught on a rail and you didn’t clear the boat? What if a shark found you before you got back to shore?”

  Jake tried to defend himself. “There were no sharks yet. That’s why—”

  “No sharks? Really?” Ashby thrust the binoculars at him and swung her body around to point into the ocean. Jake took them from her and scanned the surface in the area where the first body had been dropped. The steel gray dorsal fins of several sharks were circling in the water near the first body, periodically nipping at what was left of the corpse floating on the surface.

  She walked past him, leaving him to scan for the next body. He only saw a shoe floating there, with the man’s lower leg attached to it. Now he understood.

  He ran to catch up with her again. This time she stopped and allowed him to hold her. He whispered in her ear repeatedly, “I’m sorry.”

  After Ashby quit crying, she ran her fingers through Jake’s hair and straightened it. She pulled a piece of seaweed out from behind his ear and flicked it on the dock. This drew a smile out of her and a slight laugh.

  “I love you, Jake. I need you, too. I know you’re capable of doing amazing things, I’ve seen that. But please don’t take unnecessary risks. Something that might sound like a good idea in the moment might get you hurt, or worse. Okay?”

  Jake nodded and a few tears rolled out of his eyes. He felt terrible for frightening the woman he loved. He’d never intended to hurt her by crashing the boat. There were certainly other ways to accomplish the goal of confusing any search parties. In that moment, he understood that his life was no longer just his own. It belonged to Ashby, too.

  “Okay, I promise. I should’ve told you all the details before I did it. You could’ve talked me out of it.”

  “No, not necessarily,” she quickly countered. “Sometimes another perspective is a good idea when you’re planning something dangerous. Just don’t discount my opinion.”

  Jake nodded again and they hugged.

  Ashby continued. “Now that I’ve said my piece, let me say—that was amazing! It was like watching a movie. I mean, the body flying out, followed by the boat going airborne. I should’ve filmed it with my cell phone.”

  Jake wrapped his arm around her and led her to the passenger door of the Ford. He thought about talking about the rush he’d received during the stunt but decided to let it go while he was ahead. Besides, they had work to do.

  He turned the pickup around and drove back toward the compound. At the top of the rise, he turned down a dirt road that ran along the top of the cliff along the southern tip of the island. After a little over a mile, the road narrowed and eventually ended where erosion had taken part of the cliff. Jake pulled off to the side and they exited the vehicle.

  Anchored about six miles to their southwest were two large vessels. The first one resembled an older trawler with its pilothouse located close to the bow. There was a crow’s nest coupled with a radar mast at the center of the ship. A large deck space with a covered awning contained several tables and chairs.

  The hull was painted black, with the name of the ship emblazoned on both sides—Quino el Guardian. The ninety-foot-long former fishing boat had been converted to a liveaboard dive boat when the Mexican government halted commercial fishing in the Revillagigedo Archipelago.

  Jake studied the ship, searching for any kind of movement that would indicate how many people were on board. The Quino rocked gently in the ocean but contained no visible activity. He turned his attention to the other vessel, which was anchored two hundred yards away from the Quino.

  The other ship was similar in length but was originally designed as a research vessel. The decks were more spacious than the Quino, containing several seating areas covered with deck chairs, loungers, and dining tables. A teakwood bar sat under a covered awning. He even observed a hot tub on the end of the deck overlooking the stern.

  The ship, named the Nautilus Under Sea
, was occupied by several men that Jake could identify thus far. They were milling about the lower deck, constantly walking in and out of the main cabin. Jake had a better view of the stern of the Nautilus, and that was how he’d determined the two ship’s primary functions.

  “They’re dive boats,” he said to Ashby, who was watching debris from the wrecked inflatable crash up against the rocky shore. Jake lowered the binoculars and handed them to Ashby. “I suppose they could be part of some research project, but I saw ships like these in Thailand when we were being escorted out to the filming location.”

  “Liveaboards,” added Ashby. “I’ve seen them in various parts of the world, too. They usually have five to eight guest cabins, a full galley, and a crew who operates the boat and leads the dives. Considering the sea life around here, it makes sense that this would be considered a hot spot for diving.”

  “I only saw one inflatable, how about you?” asked Jake.

  Ashby looked again and nodded. “Same here. I think you took care of their other one. Those three Italians were either crew members or guests. It’s hard to stereotype people, but the way they drank, coupled with the tattoo of an anchor I saw on one of their arms, leads me to believe they’re crew.”

  “Plus,” began Jake as he stood with his hands on his hips, surveying the two ships, “the Quino is missing its inflatable, and I saw no signs of movement on board. It could be these three guys ventured out on their own without coordinating it with the crew of the Nautilus. That’s why nobody is looking for them.”

  Ashby walked a little closer to the cliff’s edge. “No sign of life at all? Where are the passengers?”

  “Good question,” replied Jake. “They may have been moved to the larger ship. Or they were all taken back to the mainland by a third vessel and these guys decided to ride out the aftermath of Yellowstone on the water. It’s anybody’s guess.”

  Ashby looked down one more time and then returned to the truck. “It doesn’t look like they’re an immediate threat to us, so let’s get goin’.”

  They made their way along the rocky trail and back onto the paved road leading to the compound. Ashby was searching through the glove box of the pickup, just out of curiosity, when Jake came to a sudden stop, forcing her forward in the seat and into the dashboard.

  “Jake!” she protested.

  Ignoring her, Jake spoke in a hushed tone. “We’ve got company.”

  Chapter 37

  The Pacific Ocean

  Isla Socorro

  He inched forward, holding his foot on the brake and allowing the engine to pull the truck up the hill toward the courtyard. Then he hit the brakes and put it in park. Jake shut off the engine, allowing the ticking of the hot engine to be the only sound to be heard.

  Standing along the steps leading to the administration building were a dozen people, both men and women. Jake glanced to his sides and saw that several men with rifles were walking slowly toward the truck. He instinctively reached for his handgun, and Ashby turned in her seat to retrieve their rifles from the back. As she did, the approaching men reacted, raising their aim directly at Jake and Ashby.

  Jake slowly stuck an arm out the driver’s window until it was held high in the air. He held his right palm against the windshield to show he didn’t want any trouble. Ashby immediately mimicked his actions.

  “How do you wanna play this?” she asked calmly.

  “They’re Mexicans. Locals, I suspect. We don’t have any quarrel with these people. We just have to make sure they understand that.”

  “Jake, I don’t know enough Spanish to negotiate for our lives.”

  “I know. We’ll try a universal language.”

  “Which is?” Ashby asked.

  “Smile. Make constant eye contact with the person in charge. No sudden moves or nervous fidgeting.”

  “That sounds simple enough,” said Ashby. She glanced to her right and saw that the men were approaching the truck. “We’re about to find out if it works.”

  “Let them open the doors for us and keep your hands up and eyes forward the entire time. It’s our only shot at surviving this. Whatever this is.”

  The men opened their doors simultaneously and motioned for Jake and Ashby to get out. They complied, slowly, and then began walking toward the welcoming committee at the top of the compound. Jake heard the back doors of the truck open and shut, which indicated to him their rifles had been seized. Nothing about the situation they were in felt good, other than the fact they were still alive, for the moment.

  As he got closer, he quickly assessed the situation. Using his peripheral vision, he counted eight men and five women lined up along the top step in front of the administration buildings. They were unarmed. Behind them and to their immediate side were another eight men, all armed with shotguns. All of the adults were Mexican and ranged in ages from teenagers to some nearing sixty.

  One of the men, dressed in blue jeans and a white button-up shirt, stepped forward and descended the steps to greet them. He was wearing a worn straw hat with a wide brim, which shaded his wrinkled face from the sun. He held up both hands, indicating that Jake and Ashby should stop.

  “Are you Americans?” he asked with a light Spanish accent.

  “Yes. My name is Jake Wheeler, and this is my friend Dr. Ashby Donovan. We are from Wyoming in the United States.”

  “Yellowstone?” The man seemed skeptical.

  “Yes, sir. Dr. Donovan is a volcanologist. She was studying Yellowstone before it erupted. I was a law enforcement ranger there. We escaped as the volcano exploded.”

  “That is your boat anchored offshore, yes?” The man gestured over his shoulder, but Jake was unsure of the direction he meant.

  “No, we are not with the two dive boats. Um, the Quino and Nautilus. That’s not us. Our boat is north, anchored in a—”

  The man interrupted Jake. “Yes, we saw you arrive.”

  “You did?” asked Jake.

  Suddenly, there was a commotion behind the people at the top of the stairs, and a young boy burst through the line of adults and ran down the steps toward Ashby. She dropped to a knee and held her arms out as the boy rushed to embrace her.

  The armed men took a step closer and raised their rifles, but the leader instructed them to stand down. As he did, a younger woman ran down the steps after the young boy.

  “Luis, détente, ven aquí.” Stop, come here.

  The boy crashed into Ashby like a Labrador puppy, sending her backwards into the grass. He hugged her, and the two began laughing, much to the delight of the onlookers.

  The leader smiled and waved to the men to lower their weapons, which they did as they stepped back. He then looked to Jake and extended his hand. “I am Miguel Cervantes. Welcome to Isla Socorro.”

  Jake shook his hand and smiled as he let out a sigh of relief. Ashby and young Luis recovered from the reunion and stood, but never let go of one another. This was the young boy who’d come back to thank Ashby after they’d saved their lives the day before.

  The women gathered around Ashby and Luis while Miguel patted Jake on the arm. “My apologies, Señor Wheeler, for this greeting. After yesterday, we have been nervous. We know about the liveaboard dive ships, but the incident occurred after your arrival. We made a faulty assumption.”

  “Please, call me Jake. I’m glad this young man remembered us.”

  “All of the children described you. It is my job to be certain. Thank you for protecting them. I, and their families, will be eternally grateful.”

  The group gathered around and began to thank Jake and Ashby. Some spoke broken English; others used their native Spanish. But the warm smiles and generous hugs were unmistakable shows of gratitude.

  With his arm around Jake’s shoulders, Miguel led him back up the steps toward the picnic tables. Ashby was escorted by the women and children, who were smitten with her long blond hair.

  “Let’s talk, my friend,” said Miguel as they arrived at the tables. “I will tell you some of the hist
ory of Isla Socorro.”

  Ashby reached into her pocket and pulled out the keys to the mess hall. “Who’s hungry?” She looked around at the children, who seemed to have arrived from every nook and cranny of the compound. “Hot dogs? Mac and cheese?”

  The kids jumped up and down, shouting in their thick Spanish dialect, “Easy peasy, mac and cheesy! Easy peasy, mac and cheesy!”

  Jake reached for Ashby’s hand and gave it a squeeze. With the kids dancing around her, she led the way to the mess hall followed by the women. Miguel gave instructions to his armed men, who fanned out around the compound and down toward the dock.

  He smiled and pulled a hand-rolled cigarillo out of his shirt pocket. He offered one to Jake, who declined.

  Miguel started the conversation with a profound statement. “We live in a different world now, my new friend.”

  Jake laughed and shook his head. “Miguel, you have no idea.”

  Chapter 38

  The Pacific Ocean

  Isla Socorro

  While Ashby bonded with some of the families who resided on Isla Socorro, endearing herself to the kids in particular, Jake and Miguel sat in the warm sunshine and talked. Miguel first explained the history of Isla Socorro and how the Mexican Navy base was established. Then he recounted how the second settlement came to be built on the northwest side of the island at Playa Blanca.

  “Socorro is part of Colima, a very small state on the central coast. Because of its rich Aztec heritage, the state was eligible for special recognition by the United Nations. Islas Revillagigedo are very unique. President Enrique Peña Nieto submitted the archipelago to be declared a marine reserve and a UNESCO World Heritage Site.”

  UNESCO, an acronym for United Nations Educational, Scientific, and Cultural Organization, created the World Heritage Committee to identify and protect landmarks or areas of unique significance. There were several criteria upon which a location was judged, including cultural, historical and scientific reasons. The Revillagigedo Islands, and Isla Socorro in particular, met all the criteria.