Kingdoms of Sorrow

by JK Franks

  Looking down at her map, Jordan asked, “Do we have any choice?”

  “No,” he sighed. “Not really.”

  “Well, then.” She was resolute. “Jacob, finish up, we need to get going.” She folded the map and was clearing their plates before the boy even looked up.

  Bobby and Jacob were both in the canoe and Jordan kayaked nearby as they paddled into the Mississippi River, the Big Muddy, accompanied by a flock of red-winged migratory birds that dove and scattered in the bright afternoon sky. All three now wore life jackets, and new rules had been laid out as to what to do if they were caught in the current, went overboard or got separated.

  The confluence of the two rivers was intimidating. The rolling waves, several feet high, indicated the difference in current between the rivers. As they got into the deeper channel, the water smoothed out, and soon they were zipping downstream at a steady pace. Bobby took the time to show them how to use the paddles as a rudder for steering and how to look for eddies in the current where they could pull to a bank and rest. Despite the risks of the river and the dangers just behind them, they were having fun; this was an adventure. Occasionally catching the eyes of the boy sitting ahead of him, he knew Jacob was feeling the same.

  The joyous side of the trip was short-lived. The riverbanks pinched in places, and the current got more anxious in its mad dash to the sea. The noise of the water was constant, and at several points, an incessant ringing became noticeable. The source of the sound soon became clear. Signs gave dire warnings that no vessels should enter: EXTREME DANGER! they read. The ominous sound of the flood control gates was warning enough to get the boat to the opposite side of the waterway.

  For the most part, the sides of the river were barren. No towns, no bridges, no people. Bobby knew the Mississippi floodplain extended many miles in each direction, which meant very little development would have been allowed there. But on the river, it was a different story. Old docks, ships and boats of every size were littered up and down the shoals and banks. Remembering its history in a calmer moment, he said, “Jacob, we are on the largest river in the country. The Mississippi gathers water from almost forty states. The map we have is already nearly useless, as the river constantly reshapes itself. These riverboats probably got stranded after the power went out. With no radar or depth gauges—maybe even no engines—they were at the mercy of the water.”

  Jordan was paddling close enough to hear as well. She smiled to see how Bobby spoke to her son. She liked that he talked to him like he was . . . normal. Despite her reservations, she liked this man more and more. “Wouldn’t some of these wrecks have supplies?” she asked.

  “Possibly. It’s a good suggestion,” he called above the rush of the river, “but I imagine the river folk would have stripped them bare by now. Also, I don’t feel confident enough in my skills to try and pull us up to one safely. We’re moving at about twenty miles an hour or better right now. We hit one of these wrecks, and we might not make it back out. Might lose our boats,” he concluded, though Jordan understood that he had left out the final details for the sake of her son.

  Several miles farther down, the river went into one of its many large, sweeping bends. They stayed on the inside curve where the current was not so severe, and Bobby spotted a calm pool of water coming up. He pointed it out to Jordan, and they pulled off onto the shoals to rest and get some calories into their hungry bodies.

  They were making excellent time, so Bobby felt good about taking these occasional breaks. The cramps from sitting in one position and working so hard to keep the canoe straight for hours on end were nearly constant, and he was still not fully recovered from his illness and the near starvation of the past months.

  After a meal of dried fish, bread and homemade pickles, they noticed Jacob was gone. Just as they rose to look for him, the nose of a beige canoe appeared around the bend, with a single person paddling gently toward them.

  Bobby had no time to pull his gun as the river pushed the boat the last thirty yards in mere seconds. The person in the canoe seemed to take notice of them slowly. It was a man: an older man in the kind of large, floppy leather hat once common to people in the area. In a relaxed mood, he raised his paddle with both hands and smiled. His canoe grounded itself gently on the sandbar. “Don’t want any trouble, friend, just needed to take a rest if that’s okay.”

  Bobby’s hand was close to his holster, but he was not picking up any sense of danger from this man. He saw no weapons in the boat. He walked the few steps across the coarse sand and helped pull the man’s canoe farther up onto the beach. He reached a hand out to help the stranger out. “No problem, friend.”

  The man eyed the tattoo on the outstretched hand before taking it. “You aren’t with them, are you?”

  As the man stood uneasily on the dry ground, Bobby realized what the man had seen and pulled that hand back somewhat self-consciously. “No, well . . . I was captured, but I got away. Name’s Bobby, and this is Jordan.”

  “John, John Russell,” the man said, shaking both their hands. Looking around, he said, “Lot of boats for just two people.”

  “We like to have backups,” Jordan said.

  “If you feel like talking, I’ll sit with you. Otherwise, I will move over to the side and throw a fishing line in and not bother you fine people.”

  Bobby and Jordan looked at one another briefly. “We’d like the company,” Bobby affirmed, “but we need to know if you’re armed first.”

  John pulled up the buckskin jacket he was wearing and showed a hunting knife, which he removed and threw expertly into a piece of driftwood by his canoe. The point of the knife sunk deep into the solid tree trunk. He sat down and waited for them to speak.

  “Are you from around here?” Jordan asked.

  “On the river, all my life. When the lights went out, I didn’t even know it for a week. I run an outfitter and guide service out of Greenville.” He paused briefly, “Well, I did. Had a lot of wilderness trips down the river system.” Jordan got up and began fixing the man some food. “No bother, ma’am, I have my own supplies. Don’t want you wasting yours on me.”

  “It’s fine, ours is already out, and some of it needs to be eaten soon,” she said, handing him the metal camping plate, now stacked with food.

  He nodded his thanks and between bites said, “You folks aren’t from around here.” It was not a question. “So, are you running from something, or to something? Care to let me in on what would force the two of you and a child out on the most dangerous river in the country?”

  Bobby smiled. The man was no fool. “Child?” he asked with a grin.

  “I’m sorry, I saw the smaller life jacket, and I can see those little footprints headed up into the trees. I caught sight of you guys on the river a few times, thought I could see three people.”

  Jordan had already caught sight of Jacob’s hiding spot. She now motioned for him to come on back down. Bobby thought the boy seemed to have a sixth sense about danger.

  “We’re from Little Rock,” Bobby replied, “and we are running from them.” He held up the tattooed hand as an explanation.

  John finished the food and greeted the boy with a smile. “Little Rock, huh? Damn, that’s quite a haul. But this river’s dangerous, man, don’t you think you and your family are safer on land now?”

  “Unfortunately, no,” Bobby’s brow furrowed. “The Messengers tangled in battle near West Memphis. Not sure who with, but we’re relatively sure they’re now being driven south. If we’re right, and we’ve been tracking them pretty closely over radio transmissions, then they may be within a day’s journey behind us already.”

  John absorbed all this without comment for several seconds. Nodding, he then said, “That’d make sense. Several days ago, we started seeing dead bodies floating downriver, lots of ’em. In bad shape, too. Burns, missin’ parts. Man, it was bad. Someone did a number on ’em. All looked like you,” he pointed at Bobby’s hand to clarify. “No idea who they fought?”

&n
bsp; “Well, we have an idea, but it’s a crazy one.” They proceeded to tell the story Scott had relayed to Bobby. John seemed to absorb it with ease. “You don’t seem too surprised or concerned,” Bobby remarked when he’d finished.

  John leaned back, dug a finger into the sand and watched a gray wading bird easing through the shallows. He was slow to speak. “I nearly died on this river as a kid. Me and some friends built a raft and launched it upstream. We couldn’t steer it . . . didn’t even think about that,” he chuckled ironically at the memory. “We were dumb shits. We crashed into the side of a control tower—you know, the big lock gates with the warning signs? We all survived, but just barely. My buddies never went near the water again, but I…well, I couldn’t stay away. Something about the Mississippi that just makes you feel so small, so insignificant. It’s a powerful beast, the heartbeat of this country. It didn’t want to kill me, so I spent the rest of my life trying to learn its secrets.” He stroked his long gray goatee. “Whatever these fools are doin’ upstream don’t bother me. I can hide out in a thousand places they will never find. Eventually, the river’ll wash the filth of this land out like a giant pissing away the toxins from its healing body.”

  Bobby smiled, enjoying the analogy. Eventually, the conversation turned to destinations. Bobby was reluctant to give any precise information but said they wanted to head toward Mobile. They were planning to take the river down to Vicksburg then start heading east.

  “You do realize that the Vicksburg Bridge is one of the only ones south of Memphis? That bridge is a toll bridge now, the cost to pass’ll likely be your life, or at least your woman. Lord, where you think those Messengers on this side are goin’ to be heading? I suggest you avoid Vicksburg altogether. You need to start heading east now . . . get over to near the Pearl River and head south t’ward Biloxi. Not easy these days either, not by boat anyway.” He stayed silent a few moments before seeming to reach some conclusion.

  “Listen, you seem like good people. What say I help you for a couple of days in trade for say, hmm, maybe a couple of jars of those pickles?”

  Bobby and Jordan made eye contact before Bobby answered. “You charge a pretty steep price, John. I can see why your outfitting business didn’t make it,” he smiled playfully at the old man.

  “Hey, I like pickles, and these, Jordan, are a masterpiece. So, what do you say?”

  They reached an agreement and made plans to head out before dawn.

  Chapter Fifty-Four

  Harris Springs, Mississippi

  Todd entered the hangar as Scott was putting away the bike. “Hey, man, have a good ride?” Scott nodded enthusiastically, but Todd began again before he could speak. “Hey, we need to talk. The mission is a go. We have to head out before dawn.”

  “Are they sending a chopper?”

  Todd nodded. “Yeah, it’s coming in early, so we need to let everyone know we’ll be out of touch for a few days. We also need to review the plans for . . . well, you know, if shit goes sideways. Come see me after dinner, and we can work out the details.”

  Scott went up to his cabin, taking a moment in the communal shower to wash off with the bucket of clean water, soap and rag that were always put there. Nothing like a real bath, but it kept the smells to a minimum.

  He thought about what he was about to do, and his stomach flip-flopped. He then remembered he had promised Angel he would help with the cooking tonight. He supposed he could back out of it, but that wouldn’t be right either. He also had to tell Kaylie he was going with Todd. He wasn’t sure what her reaction would be.

  Angel was wearing a hot pink bikini covered by a chef’s apron. Several inappropriate thoughts flashed through his mind. The girl was beautiful, but DeVonte had fallen for her, and as such, she was off limits. Also, she was about a zillion years younger than him, but still . . . parts of him ignored all of those facts.

  She looked up at him and grinned. “You like the new uniform?

  “Very fetching.”

  “Sorry, I stayed out at the beach longer than I realized. Got behind prepping for the late meal. Kaylie said she was going to come help as well.”

  Scott picked up a knife and began peeling veggies. Several other cooks were already busy in the galley. He looked at the menu on the marker board and nodded. “I can handle the entrées and salads.”

  “Okay, but remember to use the most perishable items first. We have to make these vegetables last as long as we can.” They took a few minutes deciding on the quantities of food for the number of people on board. The work was steady, and Scott found himself again sharing a lot with the young woman. She was easy to talk to, and everyone seemed as fond of her as they were of her boyfriend.

  “So, where did you go ride off to today?”

  “Just out in the county . . . some of the roads I used to ride every day before all this.” He waved the knife around in the air for emphasis.

  “How did it look? See anything interesting?”

  “Looks the same, but rougher. I did meet someone, though, someone who I would call . . . very interesting.” He proceeded to tell her about Roosevelt Jackson.

  “That man sounds like a treasure! He could probably help us in more ways than we can imagine. It’s just amazing someone could live their whole life off the grid like that.”

  Scott was nodding in agreement. “He would take some special handling. He’s very independent, don’t know that he would come here to help us easily. That farm and those animals are his entire world, and he is very contented with that world. I wanted to ask if you would be willing to go out there with me next time.”

  “Sure, Scott, I’d love to. We might want to let Bartos or Jack know where he is as well, so they can keep an eye out and check in occasionally when they go on patrols. Obviously, if the storm or the crazies head this way, we can try and get him to shelter with us as well.”

  “Good idea,” he said. “Listen, I have to leave in the morning for a few days. It’s kinda hush-hush, but the guys may need to rely on you more. Todd and I both are going to be gone.”

  She stopped slicing potatoes and looked up, “What are you up to, Scott Montgomery? I know Kaylie doesn’t know you’re going anywhere. I was with her all day.”

  “You were in the meeting, you know what it’s about.”

  Angel caught the serious tone and the look of concern on his face and stood up straight. “Are you all going to go do something stupid?”

  “Probably, but the Navy will protect us, and it’s for the good of everyone here.”

  “Scott, haven’t you done enough? You take more on than anyone.” She paused in what she was doing to turn and look at him. “Kaylie said you used to be a loner, you lived alone, never went out. I can’t even imagine you being like that. You do so much for so many people here.”

  “How do you imagine me?” he said in a playful tone he immediately felt awkward about.

  “Well, not like that,” she said nearly dropping the potato in her hand. “You’re just, I don’t know. You’re a nice guy. I mean you’re in charge, you and Todd. Everyone knows this is ya’ll’s ship, your town. But you help out, you’re interested in others, and you are always looking for ways to make life better. I just see no selfishness in you, ever. I mean, here you are helping make dinner for hundreds of people you barely know.”

  Scott continued to peel and dice the vegetables, “I like to cook, no matter how many it’s for. I’m also, well, I’m not that good. I’ve had to do some bad things, Angel. Things I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to make amends for.”

  “Maybe so, but you’re a good man, and I feel sure you never did anything bad to anyone that didn’t have it coming. DeVonte talks about you constantly, he looks up to you like a hero, Scott. We’re lucky to have you, and you better be coming back from whatever this damn fool adventure is tomorrow. You hear me?”

  “I hear you,” he said. “I’ll be careful. The timing of it sucks, we have so much going on and so many things here that need attention. I jus
t feel like none of it may matter if the Navy screws this up.” He laid the knife down on the wooden block. He reached over and put his hand over hers. “Angel, I am extremely glad you are part of this crew. You are a leader, and you are wise. We need you, I need you…I need you to help take on the leader’s role when Todd and I are gone. I know there’s a badass under that apron,” they laughed conspiratorially at that, but he continued, “and you’re going to need to keep that part of you close at hand. I have a feeling we are all about to be tested.”

  She grinned at him and nodded slowly. Scott released her hand and patted it as she gripped the knife again. “Trust yourself, Angel, and the people around you. DeVonte is a good man, smart as anyone I know, use him if you get in a bind. If you do get a chance, you can get Roosevelt’s location off my bike computer, he was the farthest point in my ride today. If you go out there, take him some candy—lemon drops if you can find any. He will adore you. You and DeVonte should go out and make a day of it, take the Jeep.”

  She nodded and walked by him on her way to the sink. Stopping behind him, she leaned in and gave him a hug and planted a kiss on his cheek. “Just come back, we need you.”

  Chapter Fifty-Five

  At 4:30 am Todd was waiting for Scott by the roof deck’s landing pad.

  “Morning, brother,” he said as Scott approached. “Did you get any sleep?”

  “Not much,” Scott said, slinging into his 72-hour go-bag. After he’d spoken to Kaylie, he had tried to sleep, but her worry and his concerns for the ship had kept him awake ‘til well after midnight. In the distance, he could hear the familiar sound of an incoming chopper. They hadn’t been told exactly where they were going, but they assumed they’d be taken to one of the command vessels.