Feral Nation - Insurrection (Feral Nation Series Book 2)

by Scott B. Williams

  “Bullets can do weird things, can’t they son?”

  “You got that right. What about other damage? We took quite a few rounds from the sound of it. Have you checked everything?”

  “Yeah, and I didn’t find anything critical. Several small holes through the coamings and cabin sides, one shattered port light in the aft cabin and some more holes in the starboard topsides—all high above the waterline though as far as I can tell. There’s nothing we can’t patch up later, after we get across.

  Eric glanced ahead, noting that Bart was still steering directly into the sun.

  “I figured I would stay on this course until dark. It won’t hurt anything and if there is anyone still alive aboard either of those boats that might get a notion to follow us, they’ll think this is still our heading. Once it gets good and dark we’ll keep our lights out and then turn back north. I figure the whole deviation won’t set us west more than 25 or 30 miles, tops.”

  “West is good in my book,” Eric said. “The more distance we put between ourselves and the Florida peninsula, the better. I guess Daniel was right all along to worry about those bastards following us. It still doesn’t make a whole lot of sense that they would waste that much fuel though, when they could have taken what they wanted before they let us out.”

  “Nothing makes a whole lot of sense anymore, son. They probably got to thinking about it, seeing us leave like that. Probably got ’em wondering what else we had. I’m sure they saw Shauna too, but I can’t see that they’d go to all that trouble for a woman.”

  “No, but it would be a bonus on top of whatever else they took. They probably figured all we had to defend ourselves was a handgun or two… maybe a shotgun. I guess they weren’t expecting grenades and automatic rifle fire, the worthless bastards.”

  “Well, they paid dearly for their mistake, that’s for sure.”

  “Yeah. I just hate that Shauna had to pay too. I’m going to go check on her again; make sure the bleeding is still under control.”

  When Eric went below Daniel was sitting beside his wife, holding her good hand in both of his. Andrew sat opposite them on the other settee berth, still clearly shook up over what had happened.

  “It’s going to be okay, Andrew,” Eric said. “Those bad men can’t hurt us now and they’re far behind us. Why don’t you go up on deck and watch the sunset with Jonathan and Bart? It’s going to be pretty spectacular in just a few minutes.”

  “I don’t want to. I don’t want to be out here on this boat anymore. I wish we’d just stayed at Bart’s house on the river now.”

  “I understand, Andrew, but the danger is behind us now. Those men followed us out here, but they can’t hurt us now, and no one else knows where we are. It’ll be dark soon, and our boat is the only one around.”

  “Are all the bad guys dead? Did you shoot every single one of them?”

  “Yes, I’m pretty sure they are. Even if some of them aren’t, they won’t mess with us again. We’re going to be fine. Your stepmom is hurt, but it’s not real serious. She’s going to be okay.”

  “Why did she have to be the one to get shot? She’s not even a soldier like you. It wouldn’t have hurt you as much. It’s not even fair.”

  “No, it isn’t fair, Andrew, and I wish it had been me instead of her. But things like that are just random. I doubt anyone on board that other boat was aiming at her specifically. They were just shooting at our boat and that one bullet happened to find her. But it’s a wound that will heal, Andrew, and she did her part to help me and Bart and Jonathan win the battle. You should be proud of her. Now go check out that sunset. Trust me, you don’t want to miss it.”

  When Andrew went up the ladder, Eric turned to Daniel and Shauna. “I heard what you told him,” Shauna said. “Is it really safe now? Are you sure they won’t still follow us?”

  “I’m pretty sure of it. One boat is running off to the south on autopilot. The other one seems to be dead in the water, and it’ll be dark soon. They’ll never find us again even if they were able to try. How is the pain? Has the morphine kicked in yet?”

  “I guess so. I can’t even move my hand though. Will it ever be normal again?”

  “I don’t know. You may have some shattered bones and nerve damage. It’ll take some time to know for sure. The main thing is that it didn’t hit any vital organs and you’re not losing any more blood.”

  “I feel like I lost a lot. I feel really weak. I feel like I’m going to be sick.”

  “You lost a good bit, but that heavy dose of pain meds will make you feel weird too. You need to just rest and stop worrying and stop trying to talk. Sleep for now while it’s working. You’ll wake up when it wears off, trust me, but there’s more where that came from, so don’t sweat it. You can have all you need.”

  “She shouldn’t have been out there at all,” Daniel said, when Eric got up to go back on deck. “What were you thinking, putting my wife in that kind of danger?”

  “I’m not the one who put her in danger, Daniel. Those men who were planning to attack us did. Shauna was out there because she could be and wanted to be. You could have taken her place, but she has the skills and you don’t. I’m as sorry as you are that she got hit, believe me, but it could have been any one of us, just like I told Andrew. Bullets in a firefight don’t have anyone’s name on them; they’re simply addressed to ‘whomever it may concern’. That’s just the reality of it. And the reality of this situation that we find ourselves in is that we’ll probably be facing more of them sooner or later. It’s time for you to accept that, Daniel, because that’s the way it is now and there’s nothing you or I or anyone else can do to change it. If you want to survive as long as possible, then I suggest getting into the mindset to take charge of your own protection. You can’t sit on the sidelines and let others take the risks for you any longer. That’s not the way it works. All of us that were out there today could have been wounded worse than Shauna or even killed. Where would that have left you and Andrew?”

  “Okay, okay! I know I’m a total failure when it comes to this stuff! It’s not my fault that I don’t have those skills because I never needed them before. I don’t have the kind of background you do. I didn’t grow up in a family that went hunting or target shooting for sport. We didn’t have guns in our house, and you know I was never in the military. All I know about guns is what your father showed Andrew and me before you came back. I know I need to know how to use them, but we just didn’t get a chance.”

  “I understand. Your background doesn’t matter now though. All you can do is move forward. I’ve seen lots of new recruits come in with no more experience than you. With proper training, they often shoot as well as anyone—sometimes better because they didn’t pick up bad habits from an uninformed teacher. You and Andrew have to start somewhere, so let’s start tomorrow morning. We can do some live fire training right here on the boat while we’re underway. We’ll throw some bottles or something overboard for targets. I want you both to be ready before we have another encounter, because next time we may not be so lucky.”

  Seven

  ERIC RELIEVED BART AFTER sunset and assured his father he would maintain their west-southwest course for a couple more hours before turning back north on the heading for Louisiana. The two fishing boats had dropped below the horizon in the wake before it was too dark to see them, and Eric was confident they were no longer a threat. All they had to do now was keep a sharp lookout for other vessels to avoid a collision, but they had seen nothing else since they’d left Florida. As long as they were far from the coast, Eric doubted they would. Commerce had been severely disrupted by what was happening in the U.S., and freighter traffic in and out had likely ground to a halt. Jonathan and Eric were alone in the cockpit, while Bart tried to sleep and Daniel and Andrew looked after Shauna.

  “I guess we’re lucky we made it out here at all,” Jonathan said. “They could have refused to open that blockade and killed us then and there. I guess they didn’t want to make it obvio
us, did they? They must have people around there fooled, making them think they’re protecting everybody.”

  “I think that was probably their intention in the beginning,” Eric said. “They probably were just a group of local fishermen and boat owners who got together to defend the community. But things aren’t getting any better. Resources are running out and they’ve probably figured out by now that it’s not going to be easy to get what they need to survive. We came along and presented a target of opportunity—a temptation they couldn’t resist. Now, when those two boats don’t show up again, I’ll bet the rest of the men at that blockade are going to think the men aboard them found even more loot on our boat than they’d hoped for and cut out on them. They’re going to be pissed by tomorrow, when it’s clear they aren’t coming back. They’ll wish they had just robbed us before they let us out. It’s little too late though!”

  “Yeah. It’s kind of scary to think about how desperate everyone has gotten. There’s no telling what we’re going to run into up there in Louisiana, is there?”

  “No, but one thing the area where Keith lives has going for it is that it never was as crowded as most of south Florida. The Atchafalaya swamp is about as big as the Everglades and probably just as wild, even though it’s not a national park or anything. That’s not to say it’s not going to be dangerous though. Folks that live out in those areas have always preferred to be left alone. I don’t imagine they’re going to be very inviting to strangers now, but if we just keep to the river and mind our business, maybe they’ll let us pass.”

  “I hope your brother’s still there after we go all that way to find him.”

  “Me too, Jonathan. I have a feeling he will be, at least if he’s still alive. He might have been called up with his department to help out with the riots and stuff before the hurricane, but I’d imagine that he’s been laying low since then. If the infrastructure was hit as hard as it was in Florida, St. Martin Parish is going to have enough troubles of its own. I don’t think they’ll be working over in New Orleans or Baton Rouge at this stage. Keith is going to be working from his home base if he’s working at all. He’s not going to want to leave Lynn alone for long.”

  “And you said they don’t have any kids, right?”

  “No, it’s just the two of them, but Lynn comes from a big enough family that they have so many nieces and nephews they don’t need kids of their own. You’ll like his place. It’s a lot like my Dad’s place on the Caloosahatchee, but even more rustic and out of the way. It was originally going to be their weekend camp, but they both liked it out there so much they decided it was the only home they needed. The whole cabin is made of reclaimed sinker cypress that Keith and his brother-in-law pulled out of the river and milled themselves. It’s elevated a good ten feet or so on pilings too, like most of the camps in those parts. Just like at Dad’s place, he’s got a boat dock right out back, with access to all the wetlands of south Louisiana that can be reached by navigable water. His work often starts right off that dock, in his sheriff’s department patrol boat, or at least it used to.”

  “Sounds like a sweet setup, dude. How did he end up there with you guys growing up in Florida? Is that where his wife is from?”

  “Yep. She’s full-blooded Cajun, and a hot little thing too. I like her a lot. She’s very cool. Keith met her on a road trip through there when he got out of the Marines and that’s where he’s been ever since.”

  “Wow, he was in the Marines? You were a SEAL, and your dad was in Vietnam! You guys are just a whole family of badasses! Did your brother ever fight in any wars?”

  “Oh yeah. He was in Iraq, so he’s seen plenty of combat, and I’m sure he’s had some encounters as a deputy too; even before the shit started hitting the fan in this country.”

  “I’ll bet he’s going to be surprised and happy to see you and your dad show up there. It’s too bad Megan’s not already with you, or y’all could all just stay there.”

  “Yeah, I won’t be hanging around for long, I can assure you of that. Boulder, Colorado is a long way from south Louisiana when you can’t even drive it, much less hop a plane. I hope Keith has a better idea than taking a riverboat up the Mississippi, but if he does, I don’t know what it would be.”

  It was Bart who had suggested that traveling part of the way north and west by river might be a good idea. Bart had been in contact with Keith via ham radio before the hurricane, and Keith had told him that most of the fuel that was still being distributed from the storage facilities and refineries on the Gulf coast was now transported by barge. It was the safest way to move it, due to dangers of the roadways, where vehicles could be stopped or attacked at any point by bandits or various factions fighting over territory. Even the towboats and barges running the rivers were subject to ambush though, and that’s why Bart figured there were plenty of openings for experienced security contractors like Eric. If he could work his passage or even if he had to pay for the ride, he could likely get north to St. Louis and then west as far as possible on the Missouri before cutting off to overland the rest of the way to Boulder. It would be a relatively slow means of travel, but slow and sure was better than not getting there at all.

  Eric knew Shauna wanted to go too, and convincing her to stay behind would have been impossible before she got shot. But he was certain it wouldn’t have worked out anyway. He didn’t need Daniel tagging along, incompetent and in the way, and the man would flip out at the thought of Shauna going off such a journey with her ex-husband without him. Now that she was wounded, it was out of the question, and in way, Eric was relieved. The more he was around her, the more the old feelings for her resurfaced, and he knew her presence would compromise his mission because he would be constantly looking out for her. She wouldn’t be able to argue with him now when he told her she would have to wait at Keith and Lynn’s. With her hand in that condition, it would be a long time before she could handle a weapon again, and Eric wasn’t taking anyone who couldn’t fight. He had already been thinking about it before today’s incident and figured he’d probably be better off going alone. Keith would want to help, and he was certainly competent, assuming nothing had happened to him, but Eric wasn’t sure how Lynn would feel about it, and depending on how things had played out there in the parish, his brother could still be carrying out his duties with the department. That left Bart and Jonathan, and Eric had no plans to ask either of them to come. His father was capable but he was also 69 years old and would slow him down even if he was in great shape for his age. Jonathan was young and probably willing, but inexperienced and untrained. Eric didn’t expect him to take such a risk and he didn’t feel that he owed the kid anything else but a ride to the Atchafalaya and maybe a fishing boat if they could find one.

  The prospect of going alone didn’t really bother him anyway. It would be easier for one man to keep a low profile moving cross-country, and he would only have himself to worry about. When he found Megan, he’d a have a whole new set of problems getting her back to the boat so they could leave for good, but that was something to worry about then, and not now. As he considered that, Eric decided now wasn’t the time to worry at all. They were out of south Florida and their pursuers were defeated. Shauna would recover, even without professional medical care just as long as she didn’t get an infection. The boat Bart had chosen was fantastic, and Eric had full confidence it would get them where they wanted to go. He stayed on deck the rest of the night, alternating watches with Jonathan until Bart came back out at 0300 hours.

  “She’s sleeping now, but she’s been in a lot of pain,” he said, when Eric asked how Shauna was doing. “I feel for her. That hand’s got to hurt!”

  When daylight returned, Eric went below to change her dressings and inspect the wounds. The clotting agent had done a good job of quickly stopping the bleeding, just as Eric had expected, having successfully used the same dressings to seal even bigger holes. Shauna winced as he unwrapped her hand though, and as he expected, it looked far worse than her upper arm. Ther
e was little he could do about the shattered bones, other than keep the hand wrapped and mostly immobilized.

  “Have you seen any more boats?” she asked as he finished the new dressings. “Any sign of those two during the night?”

  “No. Nothing new and the last we saw of them was before dark yesterday. We don’t have to worry about those men any longer. I doubt we’ll run into marine traffic before we close on the coast. I want to take advantage of the smooth conditions this morning to give Daniel and Andrew a bit of firearms training. With you out of commission, I want to make sure they can shoot before we make landfall.” Eric turned to Shauna’s husband and stepson: “Are you guys ready? If so, let’s get started. I’m going to need some sleep in a couple of hours.”

  The two days and nights that followed gave Eric plenty of time to get in several short shooting sessions with Daniel and Andrew. Starting them out on the SKS rifle, he took them through the differences in the AK, the M4 and the various shotguns they had aboard. Then they checked out on the Glock 19 and got some time on one of Bart’s .45 autos as well as a .357 Magnum revolver. It helped to pass the time on the otherwise uneventful passage, and made Eric feel much better, transforming two passengers into at least beginner marksmen who could attempt to do their part if they got into another firefight.

  By the morning of the third day at sea, they were sailing through the deep-water oilfields more than a hundred miles south of the mouth of the Mississippi River. The remote drilling platforms out here were abandoned now, of course. Eric knew they would have been evacuated for a hurricane in normal times, but they had likely shutdown long before that due to the economic collapse brought about by the insurrection. With GPS satellites disabled and most of these rigs unlit, it was an extremely dangerous place to sail. The most up to date paper charts Bart had been able to find among the vessels in his boatyard before they left were already two years old, and in the oilfield that made them very dated. In the year and a half prior to the unraveling of the country, the industry had still been strong, and new rigs would have been put into place or moved around for exploratory drilling. That meant there were structures out there not indicated on those paper charts, and avoiding them—especially at night—required extreme diligence from the entire crew of Dreamtime.