“He won’t be alone. Trust me, Scully wouldn’t let him out of his sight. You both just need to have a little more faith in them. They’ll be here; I just know it. Meanwhile, we might as well make the best of our wait. Your dad wants to paddle over to the beach, Casey. I’m not going; I’ve still got work to do. Who wants to go take a walk?”
Jessica insisted that she should spend some alone time with her dad, so Casey climbed down into the kayak with him, and they paddled to the closest of the broad beaches that ringed the cove. She had wanted an opportunity talk to her dad some more, just one on one, and it was a bit of a relief to get away from Jessica’s dark mood and depression over Grant’s absence. Larry could deal with that for a while; she knew her uncle wouldn’t mind. He had certainly enjoyed having her beautiful girlfriend aboard the charter boat on the islands the summer before, and she knew he was not unhappy that she would now be living aboard his new boat with the rest of them for an indefinite period of time. Casey didn’t think of Larry as part of the same generation as her dad, anyway. He was a lot younger, and he acted younger still; he had no trouble relating to her and Jessica. He knew Jessica found him interesting, too. If she wasn’t so damned obsessed with Grant, who knew what could happen? Casey loved Jessica dearly, but Grant was her crush before all this started. If she hadn’t been kidnapped by that lunatic, Derek, none of this would be an issue, because Jessica and Grant would not have had so much time alone.
She didn’t like the feeling, but she had to admit there was a bit of jealousy creeping into her thoughts at times, especially when Jessica made it so obvious how much she missed him and was worried about him. The last thing Casey had ever expected was to have something come between her and her closest friend, and she was determined not to let it happen. She couldn’t stand Jessica’s last boyfriend, Joey Broussard, and was greatly relieved when he refused to go with them and she left him behind in New Orleans. But Jessica never went long without a guy in her life, even if it wasn’t a serious relationship. Without Joey in the picture, Casey wasn’t surprised that Jessica was feeling lonely. But still, she didn’t really believe her friend would betray her by stealing away the one guy she had clearly been attracted to since well before this happened. Jessica was a good person; it was just that she could be a little needy at times. Casey could certainly understand what she was going through. Losing her boyfriend at the same time her world had suddenly turned upside down with this blackout had been doubly traumatic. Not to mention how far away from home she was, completely and utterly cut off from any word of her parents and little sister in California. Casey hoped that, just maybe, Larry could fill some of that void for her, and be the other friend or brotherlike figure she needed, if not something more. She didn’t know what would happen when Grant showed up, but whatever it was, it would be better than this awful worrying and waiting. She just wanted him to be okay and to be with them on the boat. Whether he was more interested in her or in Jessica at this point was really up to him anyway, she knew, and only time would tell.
“Do you think Larry’s right?” she asked her dad, as they hiked north along the island shore, heading to an area of tall dunes facing to the west, where they could see West Ship Island in the distance. “Do you really think Scully and Grant are going to get here?”
“Casey, you know better than any of us that anything could happen. Without phones or any other way of communicating, it’s so hard not to worry. So many little things could have slowed them down. I think it’s too early to really get concerned. If they’re not here in a few days, well, that’s another story, but we’ve got to try and stay positive.”
“I just feel like we made the wrong decision. Maybe we should have all listened to Jessica in the first place and never split up. Anything they may have gotten in that cabin can’t be worth all this.”
“There’s no use second-guessing what’s already been done, Casey. Grant knew there was some risk, but he felt it was worth it at the time. Maybe it was the wrong thing to do, but it wasn’t up to Jessica to decide. If we’re going to get through this, we all have to do what’s best for the group.”
They reached the top of one of the dunes. From there they could see across the low-lying north point of the island. The two big sailboats were still there, their masts standing tall against the background of blue that reached to the faraway mainland, barely visible on the horizon. As they stood staring away into the distance, taking turns with Larry’s binoculars, movement farther to the west caught Casey’s attention.
“Dad, what is that? It’s a boat of some kind!” She pointed to what she’d seen, and he saw it, too. Casey waited while he zeroed in on it through the binoculars.
“It is a boat, Casey! And it’s not a sailboat. It’s an old fishing boat, but something is missing.”
Casey excitedly grabbed the binoculars from his hands as he lowered them. When she looked at the distant boat through seven-power magnification, she could see that it was mostly white with a bit of blue trim. Something was missing; she realized it was the top half of the pilothouse. But there was no question the boat was the fishing boat from the river: the Miss Lucy! “It’s them, Dad! It’s got to be!”
“I think you’re right. And they are heading straight to the island!”
Casey and her dad stood watching as the boat passed the anchorage with the two sailboats and continued around the northernmost point, that jutted out from the island towards the city of Gulfport on the mainland. She jumped up and down, waving, even though she knew they were much too far away to be seen by anyone aboard the distant boat.
“They should be able to see our mast by now, though, Casey. Let’s get back to the boat. It looks like they’re heading straight to the cove!”
The two of them ran through the deep sand as fast as they could, all the way back to where they’d left the kayak. By the time they were in it and paddling out toward the catamaran, the fishing boat was rounding the last point into Smuggler’s Cove, as well. Casey remembered that Larry had remarked while they were still in the river that workboats of that design drew scarcely more water than the Polynesian catamaran, so getting into the same anchorage should not be a problem. They both waved their paddles overhead in response to a blast from the Miss Lucy’s horn. And as they drew closer they could clearly see both Grant and Scully standing at the open helm where the pilothouse had been completely torn off at about waist level.
Jessica and Larry were busy securing fenders along the rail of the Casey Nicole as Scully brought the Miss Lucy expertly alongside. The two men were already on board before Casey and her dad could climb out of the kayak. Scully and Larry immediately locked in fierce embrace, each lifting the other off the deck in turn and slapping each other’s backs, while Jessica threw herself into Grant’s arms. Just as Casey caught his eye, Jessica slipped a hand around the back of his head and pulled his lips to hers as she pressed her entire body against him and didn’t let go. Casey just stopped and stood there, awkwardly waiting, not really knowing what to do until he finally pulled away and made his way to her.
When Scully had found him midway on the crossing to Cat Island and had taken him aboard the Miss Lucy, Grant had been surprised to learn that he had apparently somehow passed both Joey and Zach somewhere along the way, and that Scully himself had been just a day or so behind him all that way along the river since the first night they were separated. Scully didn’t know what had become of Zach, or the outboard motor that had been on the boat, but when he told Grant about running Joey down in the middle of the river, Grant was quite relieved to learn that the two of them had likely never made it to the catamaran.
Grant had said that they wouldn’t know for sure unless they asked Jessica and Casey, but Scully argued that they shouldn’t mention it. He said that if anyone aboard the catamaran had seen either of those two losers, they would surely bring it up, anyway, and if they didn’t, it would mean they had never laid eyes on them. Grant felt that it was wrong not to tell them about their encounter with Joey, ar
guing that he owed it to Jessica, at least, to tell her that Joey was trying to find her. But Scully insisted that Joey’s motivations were completely selfish and that telling Jessica would only hurt her more, and that learning what had happened to Joey might make her feel somehow responsible. They debated this at length but at last Grant agreed, deferring to the older man’s experience. After all, as Scully said, if they had seen either Joey or Grant, he was sure they would hear about it immediately. They made a pact then and there to remain silent on the matter, and to make up some other excuse for the delay, which was not hard to do considering the possibilities.
As they filled each other in on their individual journeys down the Bogue Chitto and the Pearl, Grant was also surprised to learn that Scully had recovered the money that Joey had evidently lost when the Johnboat swamped. Whether or not it would be useful where they were going, it was much better to have it this way, without Joey attached and trying to use it to buy his way aboard. Scully didn’t even know if Joey had survived or not after he had hit and destroyed the old Johnboat with the Miss Lucy. Like Scully, Grant figured it didn’t much matter. Even if Joey were alive, he wasn’t getting out here now; if he didn’t drown, he would have nothing but the clothes on his back as he crawled up on a muddy bank with the snakes and alligators, likely wishing he’d never left the comfort of that secluded and well-stocked cabin on the Bogue Chitto.
Grant had been overwhelmed with relief when Scully pointed out the third mast they had seen on their approach to Cat Island and assured him that it was the wooden spar of the gaff-rigged Casey Nicole. He realized the distant glimpse of the sail from the morning before had indeed been real, but the vessel beneath it had been obscured behind the marsh grass that bounded the bend of the river ahead of him. Now he saw for the first time the sleek, rakish hulls of the catamaran, their finish dull primer gray, but their lines beautiful nonetheless. It was clearly a boat built for the sea, and he was eager to see more of it, but first he wanted to see his two best friends. After they tied alongside and boarded, Jessica got to him first. He had expected both her and Casey to be glad he was back and as happy to see him as he was to see them, but Jessica’s passionate kiss right on the lips caught him off guard. He didn’t try to stop her, but felt self-conscious and a little confused as his eyes met Casey’s and then she quickly looked away, as if to give them privacy. Grant hoped she didn’t get the wrong idea. Did she think something had happened between him and her friend when they were traveling alone together, paddling and camping for over a week in a desperate search for her?
When Jessica finally let him go, he stepped over to give Casey an equally enthusiastic hug, but he could tell from her body language and the quick peck on the cheek she gave him that they had a lot to sort out. He was sure there would be time, and he knew he would need it, too. He had a lot to figure out himself, and he was afraid his life was about to become a lot more complicated. He certainly didn’t want to come between two close friends who had known each other far longer than either had known him, but it was clear to him that things would not be as casual and uncomplicated as before.
But that was all for later. The most important thing now was that they were all together again, and, finally, they were all a safe distance from the madness that had consumed the mainland, which they could just barely see in the distance to the north.
Grant liked Larry Drager immediately. He had known he would, from what Casey and Jessica had told him before, but now that they had actually met he realized how much they truly had in common. Grant understood Larry’s lifestyle better than most people did; even though, comparatively, his own adventures had barely begun, at least until the lights went out. Now, everyone who wished to survive was being forced into a life of challenge and risk, destined to become adventurers whether they welcomed it or not. But Grant felt fortunate that they had a captain who was already so capable in that regard. And he could sense that Larry had a mutual respect for him, too, for what he’d done in helping his niece and her friend out of a dying city. Grant was utterly amazed at the boat, and insisted on getting a quick tour from Larry right after the two of them were introduced. His only sailing experience had been on a friend’s Hobie 16, and he was excited about the prospect of ocean voyaging on the Tiki 36. He wanted to soak it all in like a sponge and learn everything Larry was willing to teach him, starting in the morning with learning to use epoxy and work with fiberglass in making the repairs.
But first there was the more important matter of watching the sun go down into the Gulf, and celebrating the completeness of the reunion after so many obstacles with a shot of Larry’s 10 Cane, which he had retrieved from the Miss Lucy. Then the six of them spent the rest of the evening sitting in the cockpit under a starry sky, a gentle breeze from the Gulf keeping the mosquitos and sand fleas on the island and away from the anchorage.
“So what’s the deal with the supplies you were supposed to be bringing from the cabin?” Jessica wanted to know. “After all that time away and such a long journey, all you have is some ramen noodles and an empty jar of peanut butter?”
“Yeah, what happened?” Artie asked, looking to Grant and then Scully in turn.
“Let’s hear it,” Larry added. “You left in that old Johnboat we found with my outboard on it, and you came back in a kayak. What happened to the boat and the motor? And where is my shotgun, Scully?”
Scully gave Larry an apologetic look. “Lost dat Mossberg, Copt’n. An’ de Johnson too….”
“It’s my fault,” Grant jumped in, before Scully could go on. “I was just being stupid. We were trying to get back faster, and it was my idea to run the river at night. I should have known better. We hit a log in the only place on that river that’s a little tricky and dumped the boat and the canoe we were towing.”
“Dat’s right, mon. De river in dat place she dangerous in de dark. A mon need to wait for de day, but we wantin’ get back to de boat soon, you know. Dat’s how we got in de trouble an’ lose all de cargo.”
“There’s an old bridge crossing there,” Grant went on. “It’s probably fifty years old or more, at least. Nothing much to see of it but a few old rotten pilings, but under the water there’s steel cable and bracing: all kinds of dangers if you go for an accidental swim in those rapids just upstream. That’s what got us in trouble. You can see how Scully got his leg torn up. It’s a wonder he didn’t get hung up and drowned. We couldn’t really dive for the stuff we lost in that current at night with all that structure down there. The outboard broke the transom and came off and sank when we capsized, and the shotgun ended up on the bottom, too. I did manage to hang on to my 10/22 and Scully grabbed that little .357 Magnum carbine. We lost just about everything else. Most of the food from the cabin was canned goods.”
“An’ de can, dem don’t float you know,” Scully said.
“So we had the old Johnboat, but no motor and no place to mount it anyway. I knew paddling that thing a hundred miles would suck and take forever even if it wasn’t damaged, and even in the canoe it would take too long to get that far downriver, at least in a slow aluminum canoe like that one. But we weren’t far from the camp on the river where I first got the canoe. You remember, Jessica; you helped me get it.”
Casey shuddered at the thought of that day, when Grant and Jessica had left her for what should have been an hour or so, and she had fallen into the hands of the man who had taken her to his hideaway deep in the swamp.
“Sorry, Casey. I know that’s a bad memory for you.”
“It’s okay. So go on, what did you do?”
“Well, I got the kayak there. I remembered it from that first time. I figured, even if it wasn’t the fastest kayak ever designed, it would be faster than a canoe. Besides, it was the only boat left there,” he lied. “We took turns in it, towing the canoe around the clock, one of us paddling while the other took a break or slept riding in the canoe. That’s all we could do, anyway, since the kayak is a solo boat. That’s how we got to the dead lake where you guys were
supposed to be, but it took a long time because it’s a long way to paddle such a piece of crap.”
“Well, the main thing is that you made it there, no matter how long it took, and Scully here knew how to ‘fix’ the problems my little brother left that engine with.”
“Yeah, that’s all that matters,” Grant said, looking at Scully, who gave him a wink when no one else was looking. He had been right in insisting they keep the matter of Joey and Zach to themselves, and now Grant was glad he’d relented and listened to him.
“Absolutely,” Larry agreed. “I’m just glad as hell to be out of that river and out here on the salt again. I felt like a cornered rat up in that swamp, my mast lain down and sails in the lockers. We’ll finish these repairs tomorrow and start thinking about the next landfall. But I feel pretty good about this place. As long as we keep a watch, and the boat is ready, we don’t have to leave immediately. The fishing looks good here, and maybe we can rig what’s left of the nets on the Miss Lucy and use them to make a few runs to see if we can stock up and dry some fish. We’ll start looking over my charts again, too, and I’ll show you all the options I’ve been mulling over. There are lots of places that could make a suitable refuge, and we’ll decide on one, but for now the best one of all is the Casey Nicole herself.”
AUTHOR’S NOTE ON THE GEOGRAPHY
Readers who are familiar with the swamps and woodlands along the Bogue Chitto and the Pearl River will know that there are indeed some remote hideaways to be found along these isolated waterways. I want to point out that the descriptions detailed in the narrative have in some cases been slightly manipulated to fit the story and that the locations of specific houses, cabins, and other man-made structures described are fictitious. With ever-encroaching development in the region, there are likely more camps and weekend retreats to be found in some areas than there were when I last canoed from the upper Bogue Chitto to the coastal marshes.
Refuge: After the Collapse Page 21