Fifteen
THEY FOUND A PLACE to secure the Gulf Traveler on the north side of the channel between two of the derelict barges. It was a full bend away from the view of the lock, and there was nothing on the bank nearby but mud and impenetrable swampy woodlands. Getting back to the lock through that tangle would be nearly impossible, especially with the bikes, and Eric was grateful the sergeant offered to send the boat for them when it was time to go. He knew he’d made a favorable impression on the man to get away with what they’d found on the boat, and Shauna didn’t quite understand how fortunate they were.
“So now all we can do is wait?” she asked in frustration. “I am so sick of waiting I could scream.”
“Go right ahead if it helps, but it won’t change anything. I know how you feel, but this may turn out to be a good thing.” Eric took this opportunity to tell Shauna and Jonathan what the sergeant had warned him of regarding the region through which the TAT passed. “It would have really sucked if we didn’t know and got off the boat and rode two or three hundred miles on the bikes only to find out we couldn’t get through. At least we’ve got a little better idea of the big picture now.” He then told them what he’d learned of Denver and how residents there and in nearby cities like Boulder had mostly been relocated.
“I’m not sure of the accuracy of everything he told me, but it’s a lot more than we had before. I have my doubts about them having the river under control, for instance. It’s one thing to set up a security post at a physical barrier like this, but there are countless other access points to the river between the Gulf and St. Louis.”
“Naturally they want to come across like they’ve got it all in control,” Shauna said.
“Of course. That’s standard procedure in a situation like this. If people believe they’ll run into troops at every turn, they’re more likely to obey the orders to stay in place. I seriously doubt we’ll be coming across any patrols out there, but I don’t think he was making up that story about the group in the Ozarks. That’s remote country and there’s some pretty independent-minded folks in those hills.”
“It sounds like they’re planning another civil war,” Jonathan said.
“I don’t know about that, but I can see how they would see this as an opportunity to try and establish some kind of free state without interference. With the federal government in disarray and dealing with bigger problems, they can certainly dig in and make themselves more trouble than it’s worth to root them out. I’ve seen it before in other places, believe me.”
The rest of the day seemed to drag by, even though they were busy sorting out and packing the gear they would take with them and cleaning up the mess the men made when they searched the Gulf Traveler. The three of them talked late into the evening as they sat outside on deck, Jonathan occasionally getting up to check the drop lines he had trailed over the side in hopes of catching a catfish.
By noon the next day, Shauna was pacing the deck in frustration. “How long are we supposed to wait, Eric? What if a towboat doesn’t show up? I’m afraid we’re losing time that could be better spent on the road. We can find our way without riding on a trail like the TAT. There’s umpteen thousand miles of back roads between here and there, and you know it.”
Eric understood her frustration, but he wasn’t ready to give up on the river idea just yet. There had to be a boat coming up the Atchafalaya soon, and he found out he was right later that afternoon when the gunboat rounded the bend, outbound from the lock to the Atchafalaya to meet it. When the crew slowed as they passed the moored Gulf Traveler one of the men hailed him.
“Sergeant Patterson said to tell you there’s a tow and barges inbound from the south right now. He asked us to take the three of you and your gear back up to the lock to wait for it. He said he’ll introduce you to the captain when the vessel comes alongside for inspection.”
“Finally!” Shauna said.
“Don’t get too excited yet, Shauna. This is still dependent on working out a deal with the captain.”
“Maybe it’ll help that we’ll all three be there. Maybe he’ll be more sympathetic to the plight of a family,” Shauna winked at Jonathan, knowing Eric had claimed him as a nephew when questioned by the sergeant.
“Sympathy isn’t going to have anything to do with it, I’m afraid. This is going to be a pure business transaction or nothing at all.”
Sergeant Patterson was on the seawall to meet them when the gunboat dropped them off and then left to go escort the tow to the lock.
“The inbound ship is the C.J. Vaughn out of Rockport, Texas. The captain’s name is Anderson. I haven’t met him but he informed me he’s familiar with the lock here as he used to make the run north all the time before we arrived. I let him know in our brief radio conversation that there might be a chance to make his trip more profitable if he wants to consider it. I hope you have something worthwhile to offer him, Branson,” the sergeant said, looking at the bicycles and then at Shauna and Jonathan.
“I think we do, Sergeant, and I appreciate the introduction. I suppose it’ll be up to Captain Anderson to make the call as to whether it’s worth it to him.”
They stood there watching the channel, until at last the bows of the first two barges, rafted side-by-side, came into view around the bend. The powerful pusher vessel itself appeared soon after, as the captain expertly aligned his lengthy load for the straight shot down the final stretch of the canal to the lock. He was pushing a total of six tanker barges, rafted together two wide and three deep, the maximum number that would fit through this gateway lock. Sergeant Patterson said the barges all contained refined petroleum products, probably diesel or gasoline, and that each of the 195 by 35-foot tanker barges had a 10,000-barrel capacity. The fuel was worth a fortune, making the tow a vulnerable target, but moving it by river was still far safer than any other option currently available.
They waited until the C.J. Vaughn was alongside the seawall and then Eric had a chance to meet Captain Anderson when he disembarked. The man looked like he’d spent a lifetime on the river, and he reminded Eric a bit of his own dad, but perhaps ten years younger.
“We don’t carry passengers,” Captain Anderson said, as soon as Eric mentioned why he wanted to talk to him. “This is a working vessel and my men have their hands full. Besides, it’s dangerous as hell out there on the river these days. You’ve got no business taking that pretty woman out in the middle of nowhere like that.”
“I can handle myself just fine, Captain,” Shauna said. “We’ve already sailed across the Gulf of Mexico and up the Atchafalaya.”
“Sergeant Patterson said you were taking these fuel barges to St. Louis,” Eric said, cutting him off before he could reply to Shauna. “We can pay you in gold to take us with you. It’s just three of us and our three bikes and gear.”
“Gold? Yeah right. Look, I’ve got a schedule to make. If you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to complete paperwork here and get on with it.”
“These!” Eric said, hurrying to catch him as Captain Anderson turned away. “I can pay you with these. I’m sure we can come to a reasonable agreement as to how many is fair.” Eric placed a one-ounce Krugerrand in his hand. “We’ll stay out of your way and you’ll hardly know we’re on board. We just need a ride because we can’t get clearance to take our own boat onto the Mississippi.”
“You have more of these?” the captain asked, as he flipped the coin over several times, studying it in the sunlight.
“I do. Can we talk about a deal?”
“Let me go finish my business with the sergeant and then we’ll talk. I’m going to be ready to pull out of here as soon as I get the go ahead though, so if you’re bullshitting me, don’t be here when I get back!”
“I’ll make it worth your while, Captain. You’ll be glad to find me here when you get back.”
When the captain returned, he seemed to be in a better mood, having gotten his clearance in order to proceed upriver. Sergeant Patterson likely put in a word for Eric too,
as Captain Anderson asked him to follow him aboard the C.J. Vaughn. Moments later they were in the pilothouse, negotiating a deal.
The towboat captain wasn’t taking them aboard out of the goodness of his heart; that was for sure. By the time they worked it out, this little ‘family’ cruise up the Mississippi cost him the equivalent of $3000 per person in gold, but Eric still considered it a reasonable deal, especially when he learned that the C.J. Vaughn wasn’t actually stopping in St. Louis. This load of fuel was going all the way to Kansas City, via the Missouri so the boat ride was indeed going to get them much closer to their destination, although at a far slower pace than the Gulf Traveler would have done. It was all a trade-off though, and if they could save a few hundred miles off the overland portion of the trip, Eric figured it was well worth it.
While he had the captain’s attention, Eric asked him about the possibility of acquiring more weapons once they were clear of the lock and Sergeant Patterson’s security detail.
“Not while we’re in transit, that’s out of the question. My permission to carry weapons only covers my crew, and me and I can’t risk a violation or we’d get our operation shut down. You won’t need weapons as long as you’re aboard the C. J. Vaughn, Mr. Branson. We’ve also got three professional security guards aboard that the company just hired. You and your family will be as safe as any of us can be, considering the circumstances.”
Eric got his first glimpse of the guards shortly after a deckhand helped them stow their bikes and showed them to their sleeping quarters. They made a show of patrolling the decks and leaning over the rails to look at the topsides as if they expected to find a bomb planted there or something. Eric noted that all three of them carried AR-15 rifles, but not of the same make and configuration. He figured they were personal weapons rather than issue, and that these guys were all from civilian backgrounds. Nevertheless, they looked serious and fit enough, and probably didn’t come to this gig from prior lives as shopping mall guards. None of them did more than nod to Eric and his companions though, so he didn’t go out of his way to engage them in conversation. He figured they’d already gotten word that the three of them were unarmed, so they were unconcerned about their presence, which was a good thing. Eric might not have his firearms, but did have his two blades concealed on his person—the Bowie under his shirt and the discreet little Gang Unit tucked inside his waistband. He preferred to keep their presence unknown to everyone on board but Shauna and Jonathan.
An hour and a half after they boarded, the Atchafalaya was but a memory and Eric, Shauna and Jonathan were standing on the decks of the C. J. Vaughn looking north as the tow pushed its barges up the Mississippi.
“At least this way we don’t have to worry about pulling all-night watches,” Shauna said.
“No, but I’m not gonna be able to just sleep through the night while we’re out here either. I have no idea whether or not the captain’s security guys are competent. Besides, there are only three of them. I told Captain Anderson about my background and said I’d help out free of charge if he would just provide me a weapon, but he’s not having it. He said he has weapons in the safe for him and the rest of the crew in case they need them, and there was nothing to worry about. I think he’ll come off a couple of rifles or something we can use for a little more gold when we get to Kansas City though. It just bugs me to be traveling empty handed all that way.”
“Has he had any trouble on the river so far? Maybe that’s why he’s not worried about it.”
“He said he hasn’t personally, but that other tows have been attacked, farther north on the Ohio and the upper Mississippi close to Minneapolis. That’s why they’re all hiring armed guards. He was in a hurry to get locked through so he didn’t go into much detail. Now that we’re on the river, I’m going to see if I can get more intel from him about what else he knows. Stick close to Jonathan and make sure he stays out of the way of the crew. I don’t think most of them like the idea of us being here, although I doubt they mind you as much. I’ve noticed a couple of those deckhands staring pretty hard.”
Eric knew Shauna could handle herself, but he wasn’t going to be far from her for any length of time around these men. He would keep and eye on her and ask Jonathan to do the same. The crewmen were all busy now though, so he made his way up to the pilothouse to chat with the captain again now that they were on the open river.
“It looks peaceful and quiet from here,” Eric said, glassing the river with the captain’s binoculars as he stood next to him at the helm.
“And it is. That’s because there’s nothing much in this stretch but swamps and woods, just like most of the Atchafalaya. It’s a lot different when you get further north, especially above the Ohio confluence at Cairo.”
“What about down around the Texas coast where you came from? What’s it like there? The hurricane didn’t affect the coast west of Louisiana, did it?”
“No, and that’s why we’re still able to supply this fuel. The refineries are heavily guarded and secure. There was plenty of trouble in the city of Houston and a lot more down around Corpus Christi and all the border towns farther west. The Mexican drug cartels have moved in big time out there, taking advantage of the disruption and shortage of police caused by all the rioting and shooting. It’s a dangerous place to be if you’re an outsider.”
Eric told Captain Anderson about his run-in with the professor and his group, and how they claimed to be headed for Austin.
“Yeah, there was a big anarchist group there stirring up trouble months ago, so I’m not surprised your would-be cop-killers were going there to join them. Too bad you didn’t take out the whole lot of them while you had the chance. They all need to be shot. That’s the only thing that’s going to turn this mess around; otherwise, they won’t stop until they tear this country apart. I don’t know where they think that’ll get them.”
“They see it as a cleansing I think, sort of a chance to get a fresh start and make it how they want it. It’s not like it’s a new idea. Despite what a pain in the ass they’ve become though, I doubt they have the organization to accomplish any of their plans. The more they try, the more enemies they’re gonna make, and I don’t think most of them realize that this isn’t going to end the way they think it is.”
“It hasn’t made my job any easier, but as long as there’s fuel to be moved, I’m not going to be out of work.”
“I suppose I could find plenty of work myself, but I don’t plan to. I plan to get my daughter and get out.”
“I hope you can, but I don’t envy the trip you’ve got ahead of you once you get off the boat, taking those bicycles across the plains. I’d be looking for an easier way, if it was me.”
The scenery changed little as the tow rounded one big, sweeping river bend after another, Captain Anderson deftly finessing his unwieldy cargo into line against the current and keeping away from the sandbars and other hazards that were plentiful on the big river.
Eric’s arrangement with the captain had bought the three of them galley privileges, so at least they could eat well during the cruise north, cooking for themselves like the rest of the crew, since there was no dedicated cook among them. Eric hadn’t mentioned the fact that he and Shauna were long-since divorced to the captain, as he thought that might encourage more unwanted attention from the men on board, and as a result, Captain Anderson had given them their own private guest quarters while Jonathan got a small bunkroom nearby.
“Just think, this could be a second honeymoon cruise if we’d managed to keep it together,” Eric said, the first night they were alone in there.
“Yeah, it’s really cozy and romantic, Eric Branson. I just love the ambiance; the sweet scent of diesel and steel,” Shauna smiled.
“I hope so, considering what I paid for this suite. How is your hand?”
“It hurts, but I’ll manage. I’m glad we’re not riding the bikes just yet though. A few more days of rest are probably just what I need.”
“Well, you’re going to get
it. This is a slow boat to China as long as we’re bucking the Mississippi River current with those loaded barges. Captain Anderson and the chief engineer both said it only takes half as long to get back down to the Gulf from St. Louis as it does to go up. But at least we’re moving forward even while we’re sleeping and we couldn’t do that on the bikes.”
Eric didn’t sleep much that first night on the river though, and when he left the cabin to go out on deck for some fresh night air, he found Jonathan just as restless.
“I’d probably stay our here and sleep on the deck, if those assholes with the guns would let me,” he said, when Eric commented on how much nicer it was out on deck than in the cabin.
“Did they give you any trouble?”
“Just when I tried to go forward on the tow. I wanted to go all the way to the bows of the front barges and see the river from out there. One of them said it was too dangerous, but the deckhands do it. It’s not like I’m stupid enough to fall overboard or anything. But I don’t think he was exactly concerned about my safety; he was just being a dick because he’s got a gun. There’s something about those guys I don’t like.”
“I’m with you on that, Jonathan. At first I thought they were just being standoffish because they’re not really part of the crew, but they’ve been on board since Texas. I don’t think they liked the idea of the captain taking us on, and probably told him so, but I doubt they know what he got in exchange. Whatever their problem is, I’m getting a vibe from them I don’t like, and I think it’ll pay to keep an eye on them. Let me know if you see or hear anything unusual.”
Sixteen
ALTHOUGH JONATHAN WAS CONTENT to stand at the rail much of the next day and watch the scenery unfold as the C.J. Vaughn worked its way upriver, Eric was too restless to be content with that. When he wasn’t hanging out with the captain in the pilothouse, he followed Ralph Stewart, the chief engineer, as he made his rounds about the ship. Eric had spent a lot of time aboard a wide range of vessels during his years in the Navy, but this was his first experience with an inland towboat of this type and he wanted to know all about it. Ralph was happy to show him around, and Eric learned that he’d worked on ocean-going oil tankers before switching to riverboats.
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