Landfall: Islands in the Aftermath

by Scott B. Williams

  Russell waited until she came out, then he restarted the engine for another run of perhaps an hour to make some headway before it got too hot again. He had stashed the rifle in one of the cockpit lockers and secured it with the padlock that was on the latch. The key that had been hanging from a hook on the bulkhead over the Nav station was in his pocket now. He didn’t expect to need the rifle in a hurry out here, and he sure didn’t want her to get her hands on it while he was messing with sails or something, because it was loaded and ready to use. He didn’t know what she was capable of, but he knew she was plenty pissed off and it wasn’t worth taking a chance.

  It was only a couple of hours until dawn now, but he was wired and didn’t feel sleepy at all, especially now that she was on deck and he had someone to talk to. He was thrilled that she seemed to be breaking so soon, already making the transition from trying to kick the door down and screaming to sitting there quietly just a few feet away from him in the cockpit. He was happy to give her a little freedom because he figured it would help convince here that they were going to get along just fine and everything was going to work out for the better in the end.

  But she wasn’t being very talkative. She just sat there on the starboard cockpit seat with her shoulder against the bulkhead, staring out at the dark horizon with a blank expression. She ignored him as he attempted to educate her about solar flares and how he knew that there was more to this event that shut down the grid than a mere natural occurrence. It was somewhat disappointing that he couldn’t get her to engage in conversation with him about it, but he figured she would in time. When it was time to shut the engine down again, he told her he needed her help if she wanted to stay on deck. Maybe that would get her involved and serve to break the ice between them.

  “You can take the helm and hold our course while I get the sails back up. Steering makes the time pass faster anyway.”

  “Where are we going?” she asked, seeming barely interested in getting an answer, as if she didn’t believe he’d tell her anyway.

  “We’re going to the same place you guys were planning to go before—to the Jumentos Cays. After I looked at them on the chart, I understood why Larry wanted to go there, and I agree with him. It’s a good place to go.”

  “He’s going to find you there, or wherever you go. And he’s probably going to kill you when he does.”

  “Well, I’m sure he would like to, Rebecca, but he’ll have to be lucky to do it. You might not realize it, but finding a small boat in the middle of thousands of square miles of ocean and small islands is not as easy as you think. And besides, we’re not staying in the Bahamas for long anyway.”

  “It doesn’t matter. He will still find you. He knows every sailboat harbor in the world.”

  “Yeah, right. Hey, can you just take it and keep the bow into the wind while I go up forward and get the jib up? If you don’t want to be confined down below, I need your help.”

  To Russell’s surprise, Rebecca actually complied, taking the helm and holding the bow into the wind as he asked. He took it as another good sign that she would come around to his way of thinking even sooner than he expected and cooperate with the plan. But really, what other choice did she have? She had to know by now that pitching a fit and fighting wasn’t going to work.

  Russell made his way to the bow pulpit and crouched to untie the straps holding the jib down. As soon as the sails were back up, he’d shut down the engine again and let it cool. The wind had decreased a bit from earlier but it was still strong enough to sail. What was aggravating though was that they were now getting lifted and tossed by large ocean swells that were coming from somewhere far away rather than created by local conditions. The swells made the boat very uncomfortable, especially up on the bow where the motion was greatest. He was crouching low to maintain his balance but as he struggled with the flogging jib the boat suddenly turned hard to port as it was coming off of a wave and he felt his feet go out from under him. He fell backwards into the lifelines and would have tumbled over the top of them if he hadn’t already been in a low stance when it happened. Grabbing a stanchion, he pulled himself to his feet and yelled at Rebecca.

  “WHAT ARE YOU DOING? I SAID KEEP IT INTO THE WIND!”

  “I’M TRYING! THE WAVES ARE MAKING IT HARD!”

  Russell wasn’t sure if she was telling the truth or if she’d intentionally put the helm over in an attempt to dump him over the side. When he returned to the cockpit he dug through the lockers until he found a couple of inflatable PFDs, the kind that had the CO2 inflators and the built-in safety harness to prevent just such a man-overboard incident.

  “I’m putting one of these on. You should wear one too at all times when you’re on deck. Especially at night.”

  “I’m not wearing one. I’m not planning on going forward. I won’t fall overboard as long as I’m holding onto the wheel.”

  “Maybe not, but you’re not going to put me overboard with it either. So if that’s what you had in mind, it was a nice try, but it didn’t work and it won’t.”

  “I didn’t do that on purpose.”

  “Yeah? Well, I’ll bet you wouldn’t have turned around to come get me if had gone over, would you?”

  “Nope. I wouldn’t be able to find you anyway, even if I wanted to. Nobody could find a man overboard out here at night. If you’re really a sailor you would know that. So you’d better be careful!”

  “I know you wish I would drown or something right now, but you’re going to thank me later. You’re going to see that I did the right thing.”

  “The right thing? Stealing my mom’s boat and kidnapping me? After all we did for you? We gave you food! And Larry was even going to take you to Florida! But this is the thanks we all got.”

  “I’m telling you, Rebecca, just like I told Larry. It would be crazy to go to Florida! If Larry had gone back there looking for his friend, he would probably never come back. You would have all been waiting and waiting on Green Cay for him to show up and he never would have. At least this way he’s not going to go missing, because they’re all going to waste their time looking all over the Exumas for you. It won’t do them any good, but at least they’ll all be alive and all be together, so there’s that.”

  “Why did you take me? You wanted the boat. You should have let me go before you left.”

  “Well, for one thing, the only reason they didn’t shoot me before I got out range was because you were on board and I’m sure they were afraid of hitting you.”

  “So I was a hostage. I figured that much out. If that’s the case, then you don’t need me now. You can just drop me off at the first little island we come to and I’ll be fine. Take the damned boat. But leave me alone!”

  “That would be crazy! You might think you’d rather do that, but let me tell you from personal experience, you have no idea what it’s like to be stranded on one of these little islands with no way off. It’s intense! Most people wouldn’t have lasted half as long as I did on Green Cay. But I’m a survivor. I’m a good diver and I was able to get fish and shellfish. I built my own shelter and foraged for edible plants. Could you do all that? What do you know about survival? Don’t kid yourself. It’s not like those reality shows on TV. It sucks, to be honest. I would never dump you off in a place like that and make you suffer that way. I wouldn’t do that to anybody, unlike those Canadian assholes that did it to me!”

  “Then you can dump me off where there are people. I don’t care. Just let me go.”

  “I’m not going anywhere there are other people. Why would I? I’ve got this boat and everything I need is on board. Besides, what makes you think any other people are going to give a shit about you now, in times like these? Any people we meet are as likely to try and hurt you, or take advantage or you or even kill you as anything else.”

  “They wouldn’t be as bad as you!”

  “Oooh, that hurts my feelings, Rebecca! I’m really a nice guy. You just don’t know it yet because you don’t know me. But you will. You’ll see.”


  Russell kept trying to make Rebecca understand, but she said she was tired and asked to go back to her cabin and sleep. Sleep was the last thing on his mind as he was still so wired and excited after all that had happened and his prospects ahead. He felt refreshed and wide-awake when morning came, despite being up all night. The near miss with the fall had released a surge of adrenalin that contributed to this feeling, and talking to Rebecca was energizing as well as he had been deprived of any conversation for so long while on the island. With her gone back to her bunk, he greeted the dawn alone with his thoughts. He still wore the PFD, and had no desire to take it off, as it was not uncomfortable and it made him feel better wearing it while out there alone. The thought of falling overboard without one really bothered him. Maybe it would only prolong his misery until he died if he did, but at least he felt it would give him a fighting chance. He didn’t plan to find out, because it would be such a stupid thing to do, to fall overboard from the yacht he’d just had such good fortune to acquire. Based on his luck prior to the blackout, just such a thing would not be unexpected. But Russell was determined to change his luck now. Setting his course to the horizon aboard this fine vessel at the dawn of a sunny new day was the first step in doing just that.

  Twenty-three

  “YOU WOULD HAVE BEEN safer staying behind on the boat. You know that don’t you?” Larry asked Jessica as they neared Staniel Cay and what appeared to be a forest of aluminum masts that marked the anchorage.

  “No, I really don’t. Is there any place that’s really safe any more? Or is that just wishful thinking?”

  “I think some places are probably safer than others. Like where we were going before all this crap with Russell happened. I’ve got to admit it makes me nervous sailing into an anchorage like this. It doesn’t matter whether we’re in the dinghy or the catamaran, we’re outsiders here. These people have probably been holed up here for weeks and are settled in. There’s no telling what they’ve had to deal with, either. They’re not likely to welcome outsiders.”

  “Well, if that’s true it would be the same for that dumbass, Russell if he did get here, right?”

  “You know as much as I do. All we can do is try to get a good look around. And hope we don’t get shot in the process. I just wanted to make sure you know what you’re getting yourself into, Jessica.”

  “I’m not worried as long as I’m with you. You know what you’re doing.”

  “Thanks for your confidence. But since you said you could be my extra set of eyes, why don’t you scan the anchorage with the binoculars as we close in on those boats. If you can spot the Sarah J. from a distance, it’ll be to our advantage.”

  The anchorage area off the Staniel Cay Yacht Club and everywhere else in the surrounding waters with sufficient depths for anchoring looked about the way Larry expected—full of boaters that appeared to be hunkered down for the duration. Even more so than regular cruising boats, these vessels had the full-time, off the grid live aboard look about them. Most had laundry hanging all over the place in the rigging, and many had more than one dinghy floating in the water beside them, as well as various assortments of kayaks, paddleboards and other small watercraft. Some of these folks might have already been in the islands when the solar flares struck, but Larry figured most were refugees from Florida who’d come here looking for a better place to ride out the aftermath. He was sure every anchorage up and down the Exumas would be much the same.

  “I don’t see it,” Jessica said.

  “It’s a big area, there will be more boats farther north around the point. We’re going to have to sail all the way through to other side to be sure it’s not here.”

  “There are people watching us from some of the boats. Some of them are using binoculars too. And I see a lot of guns.”

  “I’m not surprised about that.”

  “Do you think they’re going to shoot at us if we sail in there?”

  “I hope not, but I can’t make you any promises. All we can do is not get too close to anybody that looks particularly scary. Do you still want to do this?”

  “Of course. We’ve got to find Rebecca. I’m really worried about her being alone with that creep. We’ve got to find her as soon as possible.”

  “I agree.” Larry glanced at the 12-gauge shotgun on the floorboards of the dinghy. He had thrown a couple of life jackets over it to make it less obvious, but it was close at hand and ready for instant use. He hoped he wouldn’t need it, because as they drew closer, he could see they were severely out-gunned. The people on the boats seemed anxious and on edge, and Larry wondered what might have happened here in the weeks since the blackout. One thing was for certain; his hope that they could sail through in the dinghy without attracting a lot of attention was pure fantasy. Someone from almost every boat they could see was watching them. All Larry could do was steer a steady course and remain nonchalant, sailing among them like he belonged there. He didn’t think they would draw any fire as long as they didn’t act stupid.

  He was looking at every boat for a Tartan 37 but saw no sign of the Sarah J. If Russell had come this way, maybe he decided to keep going after seeing how full the anchorage was. Larry knew he wouldn’t stop in a place like this if he were looking for a place to lay low with a 14-year-old girl taken against her will. But despite his initial impression that Russell wasn’t here, Larry knew they needed to be thorough and methodical in their search. If they didn’t scope out every possible hole big enough to hide the Sarah J., it would be pointless to move on to other islands in the chain. They had to completely rule out Staniel Cay first. When they passed within hailing distance of a bearded man standing on the bow of a steel schooner with an AR-15 in his hands, Larry yelled out to him that they were looking for a vessel named the Sarah J.

  “Haven’t seen it,” the man called back. “You’re the first stranger that’s called here in nearly a week. I’d be careful if I were you! The last two fellows that came in here and tried to steal a boat ended up shark bait.”

  Larry thanked him for the warning and assured him they were just passing through, looking for their friends on the Sarah J.

  “I hope we don’t look like thieves,” Jessica whispered.

  “Everybody they see probably does to them. We don’t exactly look like Sunday afternoon yacht club racers, you know? At least I don’t. I don’t imagine anyone’s going to complain about your looks.”

  Jessica smiled. “So, what are we going to do now?”

  “Sail on around the north end of the island. I want to look for that house he described, where he said his friend lived. If he wasn’t lying, it shouldn’t be hard to find. He said there was a dock with a 21-foot Boston Whaler the guy kept there. If we find that and still don’t see Tara’s boat, we’ll know he probably went elsewhere.”

  Larry was pretty disappointed because he’d really expected Russell to come here, at least for a short stopover. If the man he’d spoken with was telling the truth, it was almost guaranteed that he hadn’t, because he would have been spotted right away. This left Larry at a bit of a loss as to where to look next. Staniel Cay was about in the middle of the Exumas chain, which stretched more than 100 miles north to south. Russell could have still sailed to the Exumas, but there was no way of knowing if he’d made landfall north or south of Staniel Cay. If they guessed wrong they could waste days looking in the wrong direction, giving him even more time to gain distance and disappear for good. Tara was going to flip out when he went back to the Casey Nicole and told her they had found nothing. She was going to blame him and she was going to make any decision he wanted to make next even more difficult.

  Though they were sailing close enough to shore to clearly see all the waterfront houses, Larry didn’t see one near the north end that fit the description Russell gave for his friend’s place. Of course he could have been lying completely, or the guy he had said was a friend may have been lying to him. It was all so typical of boat bums like Russell. He may have met the guy in passing one day at
the dock in Nassau and then created this elaborate delusion in his mind about him being a good friend who’d invited him to come visit. Who knew the truth? Probably no one and it didn’t really matter.

  Since he knew there was a cut to the east side of the island at the north end, Larry decided to sail on that way and run back down the other coast on the way back. There was a small chance that Russell could have the Sarah J. tucked away somewhere outside of the anchorage, but the main reason Larry chose this route was to avoid passing through the middle of all those boats again. A return trip might invite trouble, and it just wasn’t necessary, as the dinghy was sailing well and they had plenty of time to circumnavigate the island and return to where the Casey Nicole was anchored by mid-afternoon. Besides, he was enjoying this time away from the others, especially Tara, and he was enjoying Jessica’s pleasant company now that she wasn’t aboard the same boat as Grant and Casey.

  Once they cleared the north end of Staniel and were sailing south again, Larry steered the dinghy far enough from shore to avoid the moderate surf pounding the rocks on that side. There was no place to anchor a big boat here, and as long as they kept away from shore, no one to worry about.

  “The water is so gorgeous here,” Jessica said.

  “It is that. Too bad we couldn’t have come here under different circumstances. Thunderball Cave is an awesome place to dive.”

  “So what do you think? Are we going to go north or go south looking for him after we get back to the boat?”

  “I haven’t decided yet. When we get back, I’m going to study the charts and analyze the wind and current he would have had since he left Green Cay. Try to get into his mindset and see if I can figure out what I would do if I were him and decided not to do the logical thing and come here.”

  “Why would he do anything logical? There was nothing logical about that idiot!”