BACKFLOW
Broken Tide Series
Book 4
By
Marcus Richardson
Mike Kraus
© 2020 Muonic Press Inc
www.muonic.com
***
www.freeholderpress.com/
www.facebook.com/pages/Marcus-Richardson-Author
***
www.MikeKrausBooks.com
[email protected]
www.facebook.com/MikeKrausBooks
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form, or by any electronic, mechanical or other means, without the permission in writing from the author.
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Want More Awesome Books?
Want More Awesome Books?
Find more fantastic tales right here, at books.to/readmorepa.
***
If you’re new to reading Mike Kraus, consider visiting his website and signing up for his free newsletter. You’ll receive several free books and a sample of his audiobooks, too, just for signing up, you can unsubscribe at any time and you will receive absolutely no spam.
***
You can also stay updated on Marcus Richardson’s books by checking out his Facebook page or heading over to his website.
***
Special Thanks
Special thanks to my awesome beta team, without whom this book wouldn’t be nearly as great.
Thank you!
BROKEN TIDE Book 5
Available Here
Chapter 1
Sailing Vessel Intrepid
Gravesend Bay, New York
Reese Lavelle leaned against Intrepid’s wheel and stared at the destruction along the New York coastline. After they’d survived the initial destruction caused by the tsunami in Maine, then traveled south to an utterly devastated Boston and took to the sea, he’d thought he’d seen everything. What more could the tsunami have done, other than wipe out everything within 12 miles of the coast? It had been the same all along their journey south—houses, buildings, and boats, all trashed and ripped to pieces by the power of the waves, the rubble left to float and clog the shore for sometimes a mile out to sea. Inland, buildings had been stripped to the foundation for miles—nothing remained but the skeletal shells of buildings and high rises that managed to survive the wrath of the ocean.
But as the sun crested the eastern horizon and brought light back to New York City, Reese discovered what they’d seen so far had been child’s play. The Big Apple had been brought to her knees. Several of the tall buildings that towered over the docks and wharves on the southern end of Manhattan had collapsed on top of each other or destroyed the smaller buildings that clustered around them like mushrooms. The New York City skyline resembled a giant set of dominoes that had partially crashed down.
And the bodies. Reese could have done without seeing that many bodies in the water, some clothed, some naked, all bloated and smelling like nothing he ever thought possible. They rose and fell with the swells, some with glazed eyes staring at the sky, others clearly missing parts because of animal predation.
As the breeze shifted, the smell made his eyes water. For the tenth time that morning, Jo threw up over the side, her dry heaves making Reese want to follow suit. He clenched his jaw and gripped the wheel even tighter. He had to maintain control.
Smoke poured from more fires than he could count and stained the pink-tinted sky a ruddy brown. Pinpricks of light glowed from within the buildings—fires, sometimes more like bonfires closer to the ground—flickered like lightning bugs wherever his gaze fell.
“I’ve never seen anything like it,” he muttered as they ghosted through The Narrows.
“Let’s hope we don’t see it any closer up,” Jo muttered as she leaned against the mast and watched a body float by. “Can’t even imagine how many people died here…”
Reese frowned. “If it smells this bad out here…”
Intrepid sailed forward, carried by the slight—and weakening—breeze. The 38’ sailboat only occasionally bumped into debris, thanks to Reese’s disciplined course through the wreckage.
They approached the Verrazano-Narrows Bridge and sailed quietly under the massive span. Above them, cars choked the bridge and more than one body hung from rope tied to the railings. Jo turned away but Reese forced himself to watch the grisly scene drift overhead.
Just off the starboard side, Byron and Libby Jennings, and their nephew Tony, sailed aboard Tiberia. The other boat in their little flotilla crept just as silent as Intrepid, as if scared to wake the ghosts of New York.
Reese narrowed his eyes at the eastern shoreline. A crowd of people had gathered near one of the few remaining boats still docked on Manhattan, right at the eastern foot of the Verrazano Bridge.
"Check it out—look at all those people over there...what are they doing?”
“Intrepid, Tiberia,” Byron said via the radio. “Marine Basin Marina is busy—keep an eye on that...”
Reese grimaced as Intrepid shuddered. “Dadgummit…all this debris is making it hard to get through. I have to keep my eyes on the water,” he replied. “Jo, can you watch those people on shore? I don’t have a good feeling about them…”
“Is that still Manhattan?” she asked.
Reese snorted. “No, we passed that before dawn—that’s Coney Island.”
Jo grunted, unimpressed. “They probably ain’t got anything better to do than watch us,” Jo replied. “But I agree…makes me feel like a hamburger in a room full of starving people.” She moved to the port railing and took up a pair of binoculars to scan the shoreline as sunlight filtered through the smoke.
"Intrepid, Tiberia. You seein’ that group on the shore, just north of the lighthouse?"
Reese snatched the mic off the stand next to Intrepid’s wheel. "Roger that, lot of them are paying attention to us, too." Reese glanced up. Their big white mainsail—riddled with bullet holes thanks to the National Guard shootout on Long Island—was barely filled by the light breeze.
"Watch your head," he called out to Jo as he tacked again to avoid debris in the water. The mainsail luffed as the breeze shifted to a different angle and the boom swung to the other side of the boat in time for the mainsail to catch the breeze once more. Reese tied off the lines, and Intrepid slipped around a tangle of packing crates that floated like mines in the water.
"We’re not making much headway here,” Byron radioed over from Tiberia. “I think it's about time we switched to outboards.”
"Agreed," Reese said with the mic near his mouth. “And the sails are all lit up in the sunlight—they’re making us a prime target."
The distinctive pop-pop-pop of gunfire from the shore drew Reese's attention. "I think we definitely need to get the outboards going," Reese said. "Intrepid out,” he added before he slapped the mic back in its cradle. "Jo!"
"Hey,” she replied, the binoculars still pressed to her face. “Hey—I think they’re shootin’ at each other!”
"I'm not worr
ied about that, I'm worried about if they decide to shoot at us! Loosen the halyards—we gotta drop the mainsail."
As Jo reluctantly moved away from her observation post, Reese hit the ignition switch for the diesel engine that powered Intrepid. When he looked up, Jo had released the lines, and the mainsail dropped into a pile over the boom.
The surge of power from the motor was noticeable compared to the slight breeze they'd been sailing under. Reese grinned as he attained more control over the steering. The faster Intrepid went, the easier it was to change course. He leaned to the right and peered along the length of the hull. "Okay, now that we’re moving faster, can you head up front? Call out if we’re about to run into something and tell me which way to go. I'm driving blind back here…”
"You got it," Jo replied. She scrambled along the railing to the front of the boat and positioned herself in the machine gun turret. Reese grinned. If any of the survivors along the shore decided to open fire on Intrepid, Jo had a nasty surprise for them. The National Guard troops that had tried to kill Tony back on Long Island found out the hard way that M-4s don't compete with an M2 Browning.
Reese glanced over his right shoulder and watched Byron kickstart Tiberia’s engine. Her hull was pockmarked with carbon scoring and bullet holes. He hadn't seen that before—but the action on Long Island had taken its toll on Tiberia’s hull. Cautiously, he leaned over the starboard railing and glanced down the length of Intrepid's hull as the water of the harbor hissed by. Several bullet holes peppered the side, none of them near the water line.
Reese sighed, thankful he didn't have to worry about sinking immediately.
A few minutes later, as they crossed Gravesend Bay, Reese watched as a bright orange and white Coast Guard helicopter roared out over the water and hovered over Intrepid. Cursing in the downdraft, he set the radio to scan mode and waited for the helicopter to hail them—he imagined they were about to demand Intrepid turn back and clear the area. Instead the helicopter abruptly pivoted and raced toward Gravesend.
"Well, that was weird," Jo said when she could speak over the noise of the retreating helicopter. "What was all that about?"
Reese shook his head. "No idea,” he called from the back of the boat. “Just keep watching…”
Jo stood up from the machine gun.. "There's some boats casting off!"
Reese looked where she pointed. As they approached the tip of Coney Island, Reese not only spotted the boats she’d mentioned, but the massive gray hulk of a naval warship parked some ways out in Lower Bay near Hoffman Island. Next to the warship several smaller vessels buzzed around like angry hornets in the debris filled chop.
As more of the open water of the Lower Bay came into view, Reese saw that it wasn't just a single ship that sat off the coast of New York, but an entire fleet of warships and one iconic white Coast Guard medium endurance cutter. Several smaller cutters—coastal patrol boats by the looks of them—prowled the debris-clogged waters off Coney Island.
The wreckage of boats and ferries lay scattered between the shore and the warships. Reese felt dread grow in the pit of his stomach. "You seein’ what I'm seein’?" Reese asked on the private channel.
Byron, for once didn't chide him over proper radio etiquette, but answered immediately. "I'm seeing it, but I'm not believing it. You don't think the navy wrecked all these boats, do you?"
Reese shrugged one shoulder. "Looks like an awful lot of firepower out here…and there's a lot of bodies…” Reese said as he turned away from the macabre scene.
“There's definitely boats headed our way!" Jo warned from the bow.
Reese turned and looked toward Gravesend Bay in time to see one of three substantial boats—like a small ferry—pull away from the dock as people desperately ran toward it. He watched in amazement as dozens of people leapt from the shore only to fall into the ferry’s wake as it pulled away from the long wharf, props spinning like mad. Gunshots rang out all up and down the shore, and to his amazement, people returned fire from the upper decks of the ferry.
Jo looked at him and placed her hands on the machine gun.
"No,” Reese said quickly. “It's not our fight, Jo—we don't know what's going on over there! We need to focus on getting out of here as fast as possible!"
"There's plenty of open water over that way," Jo said, as she gestured off the port bow. "But they're coming right for us." She racked back the charging bolt on the machine gun and settled herself in the turret. “I tell you what, I ain’t gonna be taken to another camp!”
“Oh, crap…” Reese muttered as the ferry angled away from the other two boats, right for them. The first boat to leave belched black smoke—a fire had started on the upper deck, and it quickly fell behind.
“Little boats comin’ out now,” Jo warned as she swiveled the machine gun between targets. “What do you want me to do?”
“Just keep watch—we don’t need to start—“
Reese’s words were lost when the second boat exploded in a whoosh of fire and overpressure. Planks and pieces of people sailed into the air a split second before the ear-splitting BOOM rolled across the water like a physical wall and knocked Reese back in surprise. He pulled the wheel by accident when he fell and Intrepid heeled around as she turned hard to starboard. Jo screamed from the machine gun as the deck tilted sharply down to port.
It only took Reese a second to regain his composure and right the rudder, but the damage was done—the sudden movement had bled off almost all their forward speed and allowed the ferry to nearly catch them.
People on the ferry waved at him.
Reese watched in horror as the speedy, smaller craft quickly caught up to the lumbering ferries. Men on the smaller boats poured semiautomatic weapons fire into the crowded boats. As the distance between them shrank, sporadic cries and screams for help from the overloaded ferries echoed across the water. "I don't know what they think we can do," Reese said helplessly. If even half dozen people managed to jump aboard Intrepid, it would be enough to destabilize the ungainly sailboat and possibly swamp them all. He caught Jo’s eye. “We gotta keep them away from us!"
“But—“ she began.
Behind them, the sharp bass blast of ship’s horn silenced everyone. Reese spun to see what had caused the noise and found an 87-foot Coast Guard cutter plowing through the waves toward them at top speed. The sleek white hull sliced through the water like a knife. It was an amazing piece of engineering, and Reese was transfixed for a moment as the quasi-military boat sheared through debris and water alike as it raced forward.
“We gotta get out of their way!" Byron screamed over the radio. Tiberia veered sharply south, and tried to cut to the port side of the quickly approaching Coast Guard boat. Reese followed suit, and spun Intrepid’s wheel hard starboard. Jo yelled at the sudden movement up front again, and the boat lurched around in a tight circle to follow Tiberia.
Reese glanced over his shoulder and frowned to see the ferry had matched their maneuver. The cutter blared its horn again, then cut between Tiberia and Intrepid. The sudden maneuver caught Reese by surprise, since the space between the two sailboats was no more than 30 yards.
Reese quickly reacted and spun the wheel hard to port, which caused Jo another cursing fit from the machine gun turret as Intrepid pitched hard over in the opposite direction. Intrepid hit the wake of the passing cutter and rocked up and over the small waves, which further jostled Jo.
Reese kept his head on a swivel as he spun the wheel back hard to starboard in order to regroup with Tiberia. Behind him, the cutter had also turned on a dime and effectively put itself between Intrepid and the ferry. The ferry then had to perform its own evasive maneuver to avoid ramming straight into the side of the Coast Guard boat, and the captain managed to pass just astern of the smaller cutter.
Reese shook his head—the maneuver also exposed the chasing boats which were soon engaged by the twin M2s mounted on the cutter’s foredeck. The cracking thunder that rolled across the open water between the Coast Guard b
oat and Intrepid shocked Reese. Whoever the gunners aboard the cutter were, they weren’t playing around—the first chasing vessel, a motor yacht—took the full brunt of the incoming fire.
Clean white paneling shredded in the incoming hail of lead and huge chunks of the forecastle erupted out over the water. Too late, the skipper of the chase boat realized they’d bitten off far more than they could chew, and though he tried to turn in an evasive maneuver, it only exposed his broadside to raking fire from the cutter.
In seconds, people abandoned the chasing boat, or fell overboard as they were struck by the incoming fire. Smoke erupted from the wheelhouse, and before long the attacking vessel floated adrift in the debris choked water, just one more dead boat among the graveyard. The second boat turned hard to the east in an effort to get around the front of the cutter—Reese's eyes widened as he realized the skipper of that boat intended to make an end run around the cutter and catch up to the ferries, who now raced for safety toward the naval vessels still a half mile or so away.
Reese grabbed the mic. “Tiberia, hard to port, hard to port! Those guys in that other yacht are going to try to cut us off to get to the ferry!"
Byron's reply was quick. "I see it, I see it!"
Both sailboats cut hard to port in an attempt to get behind the attacking yacht, but the big, sleek luxury yacht was too fast. Where the sailboats had small outboard motors, used to get them through rough weather or into safe harbor, the motor yacht had two massive V8 engines to get the big vessel up to high-speed. The skipper of the big yacht throttled up, which caused the bow of the big white yacht to lift up as she spun around. Rough men in ragged clothes with long rifles bristled on the upper decks. Reese watched and waited for them to shoot Intrepid to pieces. As the motor yacht came within range of the ferry, however, they largely ignored the sailboats and poured fire into the escaping survivors.
Broken Tide | Book 4 | Backflow Page 1