The Roaming (Book 2): The Toll

by Hegarty, W. J.

  “Go!” Radzinski ordered.

  Ryan wasted no time saying thank-you; that would come later. He picked up what little supplies were spread about the sand and bolted for the dock.

  Just as quickly as Radzinski entered the store, he was backing out, rifle at the ready.

  Rachel followed alongside him, pulling the door shut behind her. “Well, we’re not going back in there again,” she said, holstering her sidearm. “Thanks for the assist.”

  “Don’t mention it. The boat’s up and running and Miller’s ready to go. I think we’ve picked this place clean of what little scraps it had to offer, anyway.”

  “Half a dozen buildings, little shacks, and this store and we didn’t find shit, you?” she asked.

  “Nothing. This place is a graveyard. I’m surprised we even manage to find a boat in working order.”

  “It makes sense, though. We weren’t the first with this idea. We won’t be the last, either. The next people who find this place will do the same thing,” Rachel added. “Good luck to them.”

  “That’s it, people. Gather up what you’ve found and make your way back to the boat!” Miller shouted at a row of nearby buildings as he approached. “We leave in five minutes!”

  Ayn made her way through a darkened building to the doorway, carrying a cardboard box stuffed with various odds and ends. Nothing she was positive they needed. Mostly just stuff that caught her eye. She could better sort it later. The blinding transition from darkness to light was disorienting, and she missed the exit completely. After crashing into the wall, she dropped the box to steady herself against the doorframe.

  “Everything alright there?” Miller asked, one eye to the scurrying group still inside.

  “Yeah, I’m fine. I just got light-headed for a second there. Weird.”

  “Okay. Well, don’t push yourself too hard. No sense in getting hurt now. We’ll see you on the boat.”

  She gathered her things. After a little stutter-step, she was on her way as Soraya jogged up to the spot.

  “Everyone else is aboard. The boat is running and ready to go.” She eyed Ayn, who was down near the pier, making her way to the vessel. “What was that?”

  “She’s overworking herself. A lot of them are.”

  “Anything in this building?”

  “Doesn’t look like it. I’m seeing lots of stuff go by but not much in the way of food. We’ll take a proper inventory once we’re out at sea. I really just want to get out of here. That gang’s got me spooked.”

  Below deck, Bernie and Aiko helped Casandra into a small bed they set up especially for her. The accommodations weren’t exactly five-star, but they were comfortable and the tight quarters would prevent her from being thrown to the floor if they encountered rough seas. They lowered her into the bed, Bernie supporting her back and neck, Aiko guiding her arms and careful not to pull on her wound.

  “Take it easy, take it easy. There you go, sweetheart,” Bernie said as Casandra was finally flat on the bed.

  “Thank you, Bernie.” Casandra put her palm on his cheek. He kissed it and wiped the wispy blonde strands from her eyes.

  “Well, I’ll leave you two to get settled in then,” Aiko said, feeling like the third wheel.

  “Oh, Aiko, thank you so much for everything.” Casandra smiled. “You don’t know how much I appreciate this.”

  “Yeah, Doc. I don’t know what we’d do without ya.” Bernie tipped his hat.

  “Just doing my job, you guys. Try to stay off your feet as much as possible, Casandra, and if you need anything at all, don’t hesitate. Bernie can come find me.” Aiko hurried back out into the light.

  “Anyone seen Isabelle around? I know she’s still not talking, but I don’t want her getting accidentally left behind in the confusion,” Isaac asked, straining against the horizon.

  In unison, Ayn and Elliot pointed to the bow of the boat.

  “She’s been up there for a while now,” Ayn mentioned. “I think she wants to go as much as the rest of us. She just won’t say it.”

  “Well, that’s a relief. Guess I’ll leave her be then. You guys need a hand with anything?”

  “I think that’s about it for the supplies,” Elliot said. “A few more stragglers and we’re off, I think. I did have a few ideas about shift rotations I was hoping to bounce off you.”

  “Oh, sure. Glad to help,” Isaac offered, relieved to be of assistance. Marisol cast a large shadow, and he was well aware that he would never be considered her equal. No one asked him for advice or to go out on recon. Some days he wondered why he even still wore the uniform at all. If Elliot wanted his input on putting together a list of shift rotations, whatever he meant by that, then Isaac was more than happy to help.

  “Terrific, let’s go down below deck, out of the sun, then. I think this will make a lot of sense if us civilians are going to carry our share of the weight,” Elliot replied.

  “Later, guys.” Ayn watched them disappear below deck before grasping her stomach and holding onto the side of the boat for support. She took a few deep breaths before straightening herself, tears welling.

  “Everything copacetic there, sailor?” Rachel came up from behind.

  “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine, Rachel. Just need to find my sea legs. I haven’t been on a boat in years.”

  “Tell me about it. Blah.” Rachel stuck out her tongue and pretended to stick her finger down her throat as she continued on her way to the wheelhouse.

  Sam took the helm. He’d never claim the title of captain, but seeing as he had the most experience at sea, which really didn’t amount to much, he was the most logical choice. Black smoke poured from the exhaust. The engine, long-dormant, roared to life as they pulled away from the dock. The majority of the group stood watch on deck as Longleaf Bay, the final stop on the road from Pepperbush, grew smaller in the distance. The Emerald Star chugged along through the bay and out into open sea.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Adrift

  Vanessa awoke to suffocating smoke filling the cabin. Lillian lay beside her, seemingly unfazed by the putrid cloud as some others scurried by in a mad dash for the exit. Fumes stung her eyes. The stench of burning plastic and chemicals filled her lungs. She could hear Miller from somewhere across the cabin near the exit, calling out for everyone to come toward the sound of his voice. Lillian began choking. The small fit forced her awake as Vanessa helped her to her feet. They stumbled toward Miller, the sun barely visible behind him, a dim beacon of hope. As they approached the exit, Miller grabbed Vanessa by the arm and yanked the pair to safety, flinging them out onto the sun-drenched deck and into Soraya’s waiting arms. Soraya led them toward the front of the boat, away from the smoke and out of the way of those frantically searching for the fire’s source.

  “I can’t breathe,” Lillian choked out, panic-stricken.

  “We’re okay. Come on.” Vanessa led the frightened girl away from the fumes and to the relatively clear deck of the boat. She caressed the girl’s back. The rhythm of her hands gave the illusion of air circulating in Lillian’s lungs. Vanessa’s grandfather taught her that when she was a child. When she was only seven years old, she hit her head while jumping into a pool and swallowed what felt like half the water. For nearly thirty minutes afterward, her grandfather rubbed her back, magically pushing air back into the little girl’s lungs. It was a simple lesson, but it was one Vanessa never forgot. Mind over matter. A psychological hoodwink, as it were. She used the same technique on Lillian, and within a few minutes, the girl’s hysteria had passed.

  Ryan tumbled out of the darkness, in the process nearly bowling over Ayn, who leaned back, coughing hard into her clenched fist. Each fit doubled her over in pain.

  “Just breathe. You’re alright.” Ryan helped steady the girl.

  “Dammit, I was finally asleep, too.” She coughed. “Been feeling like crap for days. Now this?”

  “I know what you mean. I was finally alone in the bathroom, just me and my thoughts, when the place filled wit
h smoke.”

  “Gross.”

  “That may be the case, but I got you to stop coughing, didn’t I?”

  Bernie emerged from the smoke-filled cabin. He wore a wet shirt around his head, a makeshift filter from the acrid fumes. He coughed and waved the cloud from his face. As he approached Miller, he threw the damp shirt to the deck to better take in the fresh air. “Fucking thick in there, boys,” he said while clearing his throat. “Fire’s out. Wasn’t as bad as it looked to be honest.”

  “You sure about that?” Miller referenced the thick white smoke still pouring from the cabin. “It doesn’t look like the fire’s out from where I’m standing.”

  “Positive. The smoke’s making it look worse than it really is.” Bernie plopped down on the deck, spent. “It’ll dissipate shortly. Lots of rubber and plastic down there putting off all that shit. Like I said, not as grim as it looks.”

  “Well, that doesn’t sound so bad. Mostly cosmetic damage then?” Rachel asked.

  “Ah, let’s not get ahead of ourselves, red,” Bernie cautioned. “We pushed the motor too hard too fast and burned up a belt. The thing exploded all over the place, igniting a pile of used oil rags. I reckon all the loose bullshit down there went up faster than hell. Good news is, the smoke should clear out soon enough, and luckily for us, the boat took no structural damage from what I could tell, so that’s a plus. This could have been a lot worse—way worse.”

  “That’s not all, is it?” Miller asked.

  “No, unfortunately, without that belt, the motor is useless,” Bernie said point-blank.

  “There’s no way to rig it up? A temporary Band-Aid till we can get back to shore?” Miller asked, careful not to let his creeping desperation show.

  “Not unless you can direct me to a mechanic’s shop within walking distance,” said Bernie. “I’m sorry, fellas, but we are dead in the water.”

  Radzinski handed Bernie a bottle of water. “Well, that explains why no one else took this boat. The fucking motor’s shot.”

  “We don’t know that for sure. Don’t jump to conclusions,” Miller snapped. “Bernie, how about scavenging a belt from something not as vital?”

  “Eh, it doesn’t really work like that, Miller. When the smoke clears, I’ll turn that place upside down for parts, believe me, but for now, all we can do is wait.” After wiping sweat from his brow, Bernie adjusted his hat a little lower, closer to his eyes. “You’re gonna want to keep these people out of the sun as much as possible.”

  “It’s not that hot out here,” Rachel pointed out.

  “Not yet, sure. It’s morning still. Give it a few hours.” He pointed to the sky. “There’s not a cloud in sight. Some people are gonna roast out here.” Bernie nodded in Samantha’s direction, her porcelain skin nearly glowing in the morning sun.

  DAY ONE

  “Oh, this is just great. Now what? We can’t even see the fucking land.” Damon strained his eyes against the horizon. As far as he could see in any direction, they were surrounded by open ocean.

  “The soldiers will figure something out or maybe Bernie has a solution. He seems to know enough about boats,” Samantha suggested, though she knew trying to have a conversation with Damon was usually futile. He didn’t like her, and it showed, but for Markus’s sake, she would continue to try.

  “Yeah, you keep thinking that if it makes you feel better. Me, I live in the real world, and in the real world, we are stuck in the middle of the fucking ocean.”

  “Don’t lose your head, man. We need to stay calm if we’re going to figure a way out of this,” Markus added.

  “Keep calm? How the fuck is staying calm going to make our boat drift back to shore?” Damon asked, stupefied.

  “It won’t, but losing your shit every five minutes doesn’t help us, either,” said Markus.

  “I’m glad the two of you are enjoying this.” Damon waved the pair off.

  “No one’s enjoying this, but your constant bullshit doesn’t help.” Markus tried to grab Damon’s shoulder before he could walk away.

  “Fuck you. I’m going to get some water.” Damon stormed off below deck.

  For the most part, Miller remained a steadfast observer when it came to minor squabbles among those in his charge, only intervening when things steered toward a boiling point. Sam agreed with this stance of letting the group blow off steam when necessary. The pair kept a watchful eye, nonetheless. Insignificant as it seemed, Miller didn’t ignore this conversation; there was no need to verbalize his thoughts.

  “Aiko.” Miller tossed a nod in Damon’s direction.

  “I’m on it.” She hurried below deck.

  “Oh what? Did I miss something?” Nisha asked as she approached Miller and Sam.

  “Inventory, again.” Sam shook his nearly empty water bottle.

  “Already? You’d think we were cursed,” Nisha replied.

  “It sure feels that way, doesn’t it, darling?” Sam offered the woman what little water he had left.

  Atop the wheelhouse, away from the prying eyes of the group, Vanessa and Lillian sat, scanning the horizon for land. The view was only slightly better than down below, but the privacy the perch offered was what drew them to the spot. As it turned out, the boat felt nearly as cramped as the caravan, only instead of being stuck with four or five people in the confines of a vehicle, everywhere they turned, now someone new was there. At least in a crowded truck you knew what you were in for. The Emerald Star only offered the illusion of better living.

  “They’ll get the engine fixed and we’ll be on our way in no time. You’ll see.” Vanessa tried to sound optimistic, though inside, she was just as concerned as Lillian.

  “Are you sure? They don’t sound very positive down there.” Lillian couldn’t hide her apprehension if she tried.

  “Truthfully, I don’t know. I just needed a break from all the bickering.”

  “I’m with you girls. All that fighting sucks,” Rachel added, peeking her head over the edge of the wheelhouse roof from a spot on a ladder.

  Lillian jumped, nearly falling over the side. Vanessa was quick to grab the girl’s arm, and Rachel was ready to catch her as she anticipated startling at least one of them.

  “Careful, girls. It’s a long way down,” Rachel said, peering over the edge to the unforgiving deck below.

  “Dammit, Rachel.” Lillian sighed as she returned to her spot.

  “Sorry about that, Lily. I thought you heard me coming.” Rachel chuckled.

  “Well, I didn’t. You better watch your ass. I’ll remember this,” Lillian said facetiously while pointing to her head.

  “What’s up, Rachel? Any luck with the motor?” Vanessa asked.

  “Unfortunately no, and that’s what I wanted to talk to you guys about.” Rachel joined the girls on their perch, though she held onto a useless antenna for balance as opposed to sitting.

  “I don’t know the first thing about fixing motors. Do you?” Lillian asked Vanessa.

  Vanessa shook her head no, closed her eyes, and waited for the bad news to come pouring in.

  “Trust me, I don’t, either,” Rachel said. “Soraya and Bernie have been going at it all day. They don’t want to admit it yet, but the thing’s dead.”

  “Well, if you can’t help with the motor, why don’t you hang out with us for a while then?” Lillian suggested.

  “I’d love to join you guys up here. Trust me. To just sit and relax, I almost can’t even remember what it feels like, but no, I shouldn’t. Maintaining discipline and all that,” Rachel replied with a frown, disappointment obvious. “Anyway, back to why I’m here, you’re going to want to cut down on your exposure time.” Rachel flicked her wrist, pointing to the warm sun overhead. “There’s no telling how long we’ll be stuck out here, and heat stroke will become a real issue if we run out of water.”

  “How bad does it look? The water, I mean,” Vanessa asked.

  “Aiko and a couple of the others are going over that now. Early estimates are a day or tw
o’s worth of food. Three or four days after that, we’ll be out of water,” Rachel said as upbeat as possible, given the circumstances.

  “Oh God.” Lillian gasped.

  “Look, I’m not trying to scare anyone. I just thought you should know.”

  “Thanks, Rachel,” Vanessa said appreciatively. She sat up cross-legged, hands draped over her knees, looking to the horizon. “One day. All I want is one day without bad news or having to run for my life.” She closed her eyes and tried to remember how welcome the sun felt on her skin only moments ago.

  DAY TWO

  Casandra lay sound asleep in her bunk in the stuffy confines of the ship’s bowels. Perspiration beaded up and rolled from her forehead and onto the moist pillow. Bernie dabbed what he could from her warm skin, but his rag was long ago soaked. Now he was more pushing the stuff around than sopping it up. It was agreed upon to let her sleep as much as possible. Even so, Bernie still woke her up every few hours for her share of water and most of his.

  “You’re going to need to stop doing that, Bernie. You need fluids, too,” Aiko insisted.

  “I’ll manage, Doc, but come on, ain’t there something else you can do for her? She’s hurting over here,” Bernie pleaded.

  “I’m sorry, Bernie. We have nothing else for the pain. Besides, anything more potent would jeopardize the baby. She’s just going to have to make do. FYI, her wound is healing nicely and there’s no sign of infection. Just keep her comfortable and hydrated for now. Eventually, though, we are going to have to make her eat something.”

  “Well, that’s a relief, the first part anyway.” Bernie stood. His legs buckled for a moment before he righted himself against the doorframe.

  “Careful now.” Aiko steadied him. “Water, get yourself some now,” she insisted.

  “Yes, ma’am,” he relented. “But after that, I’m gonna mess with them nets, see if I can’t do something about this food situation.”