Feral Nation - Infiltration (Feral Nation Series Book 1)

by Scott B. Williams

  Bart slowed the skiff to idle as he approached his property. Like the house, the small dock where he kept the skiff was invisible from the river. A narrow creek that bounded one side of the property entered the Caloosahatchee here, and created a perfect hideaway for his boat dock. Bart had used it almost daily the entire time he’d lived here, commuting by boat back and forth between the house and his boatyard. He had always valued the privacy this setup had offered over the years, but now it was a crucial element of his security. The river was an easy avenue for would-be looters and other dangerous folks, but if they didn’t know the house was there, they had no reason to even slow down when they went by. With the situation being what it was now, Bart was extra careful to keep any noise low and to avoid lights at night that could be seen through the foliage. The front entrance that connected to a small county road was equally low-key, just a gravel road with an iron gate that from all appearances led to an undeveloped and unused parcel of land.

  He checked the river both upstream and down, like he always did these days before turning off into the little side creek. It helped that his comings and goings were less frequent now, but so far he’d managed to get in and out without being seen by other river users. Bart tied off the skiff when he reached the dock and slung the M1 over his shoulder before stepping out. He was tired and ready to get some sleep, but with company in the house that wasn’t easy in the daytime. Like every other day since they’d been here, he would talk with them a while and then try and get a long nap in his hammock that afternoon. Then come nightfall, he’d head back down to the yard and resume his solitary watch.

  Eighteen

  SHAUNA HARTFIELD HEARD THE sound of Bart’s outboard turning into the creek and went outside to walk down to meet him at the dock. She was going stir crazy out here in the middle of nowhere, with no connection to the outside world, although she knew it wouldn’t be any different at her house or anywhere else in south Florida. Each day when Bart returned from the boatyard, she hoped he would have some news—it didn’t matter what—just news of any kind. The waiting and not knowing was the hardest part of this situation, mainly because of her worry over Megan, but also because of Daniel’s apparent inability to cope that was wearing on her nerves more every day.

  “No, I’m afraid not,” Bart said, when Shauna asked if he’d spoken to anyone since he’d left the evening before. “I did have a couple of fellows drop by the yard a little after midnight, but they weren’t the talkative type and never said a word.”

  Shauna knew without asking what Bart meant. He’d already told her about his previous encounters in the boatyard since they’d returned here from North Palm Beach. Her ex-father-in-law was deadly serious about keeping the looters off of his property, especially after what had happened to his two favorite employees. Shauna couldn’t really blame him, but she didn’t care to hear the details either, and Bart wouldn’t volunteer them unless asked. But she did wonder how long he was going to keep doing this, as it was beginning to seem like there was little point in it.

  “I wish you would give it a rest, Bart. You don’t have to go out there every single night.”

  “Who else is going to if I don’t? Somebody’s got to stand up to these people. I can’t just let ’em rob me blind.”

  “You can’t be there all the time either, and you know it. If you’re right about things getting even worse than they are now, then you’re going to have to just let the boatyard go, just like we had to let our house go.”

  “I can hold them off for quite a while. The situation here is a whole lot different than over there on the other coast. You know that Shauna, even if Daniel doesn’t understand it. Is he still talking about trying to go back to North Palm Beach this week?”

  “It’s all he has talked about. He says he doesn’t want to go without me, but that he will if he has to. He’s got Andrew convinced it’s a good idea too.”

  “You know what I think of it, and he does too. If he wants to try it, I’m not going to stop him, but I’ll be damned if I’m going to do a whole lot to help him either. He’s a fool to put that boy at risk like that when we’ve all got everything we need right here.”

  “Well, he still can’t grasp the fact that the grid could stay down this long in a place like Palm Beach County. He thinks things are different there because it’s not out in the sticks like here. I guess he’ll have to see for himself to believe it, but I don’t think he’d ever make it over there. All I can do is keep trying to talk him out of it, and I know you’re sick of it, but I need your help, Bart. I’m trying to keep him calm, but it makes me mad because he has no idea what I’m going through. He’s worried about a stupid house and all the money and investments he can’t get to and maybe never will again, but he has no idea what it’s like to have a child that’s hopelessly out of reach and maybe in grave danger. I know you understand, Bart, but I don’t think Daniel really gets it.”

  Shauna knew Bart was genuinely concerned about his granddaughter’s whereabouts and safety, which was why he made the perilous drive across the state to get them before the storm. But looking for her now wasn’t really an option. Assuming she was still in the Boulder area where she was attending the University of Colorado, getting to her to bring her back was no simple matter. Travel had been dangerous and severely restricted for months even before the hurricane, and cell phones and other forms of communications had become sporadic and unreliable at best. When Shauna lost touch with Megan and she didn’t come home at the end of the semester, Daniel had urged her to sit tight and wait. He was sure that things would settle down and Megan would be fine if she stayed put where she was. Megan was practically an adult; after all, while her stepson Andrew was only twelve. She was the only mother he had now, his real mother taken by cancer when he was eight. Shauna couldn’t bail on her responsibility to be there for him and Daniel, nor could she expect the two of them to accompany her on a risky journey across half a continent. Besides, with no way to communicate her intentions to Megan, there was a good chance they would miss each other in transit if Megan attempted to come home on her own.

  Whether or not she would even try was a whole different topic. Shauna had left a note for her in her bedroom at home just in case, but she had her doubts. She didn’t discuss all the reasons with Bart because he had not been around his granddaughter much since she’d graduated high school. Knowing her better than anyone else, Shauna had good reason to worry when the first incidents of the insurrection began making the news shortly after the beginning of the year. She sincerely hoped that her daughter would steer clear of the protests and riots, but knowing her as she did, she doubted it. As the weeks went by with no word from her, Shauna’s worry only increased, but hopping on a flight to go out and visit as she’d done twice during Megan’s freshman year was no longer an option. The government had put an indefinite halt to commercial airline operations and even overland travel was highly restricted. Driving within the state had been possible before the hurricane, but interstate travel was much more problematic, especially with the gas shortages that worsened by the week.

  Since she could do nothing for Megan at the moment, Shauna kept telling herself that her daughter was no doubt surrounded by friends that would look out for one another. That had worked to get her through most of the summer, but it was getting harder to take the not knowing. Now that she and Daniel and Andrew had been displaced from their home by the storm, she had even more time to think and worry. She believed Bart when he said there was nothing to go back to in North Palm Beach. Even if the house was undamaged by the storm, it would be uninhabitable in the Florida heat without electricity and air conditioning. At least Bart’s house was designed for the climate and built to be sustainable off grid. The palms that hid it from view of the river also shaded it on all sides, contributing greatly to keeping it cool. Water wasn’t an issue because Bart had a well with a pump that could be run on his generators or manually. Then, of course, there was always the creek from which more could be collected
as a last resort. All in all, there was no comparison between the livability of Bart’s remote bungalow and Shauna and Daniel’s waterfront suburban home in North Palm Beach. Going back there in the foreseeable future simply wasn’t an option, and Shauna knew they were leaving for good even as they packed up to go with Bart.

  She knew too as she was writing her note to Megan that her daughter would probably never read it, but it made her feel better to do something. Even now she wrote letters to Megan every day. It didn’t matter that she had no means to send them; just the act of writing to her made Shauna feel closer. It gave her someone to confide in too, mostly of her disappointment in Daniel.

  Her second husband was completely out of his element in this situation and his complaints and useless worries were making things harder than they had to be. The man excelled in the world of business and corporate management, but was utterly incompetent when it came to dealing with the conditions they now faced. Shauna could have guessed that before she married him, but she’d seriously doubted it would ever matter. What did matter then was that he was nice to her and Megan and he was always there for them, unlike Eric, who had rarely been. Daniel was confident and successful in the world he knew before the collapse, but with far less of the cockiness and aggression that Eric had cultivated in his own intense occupation.

  Shauna had been glad for the change when she met her new husband, but considering what she was facing now, she couldn’t help but compare the two men. Like his father Bart, Eric would do what had to be done and would be quick to adapt to hard circumstance as required. He would also find a way to get to his daughter, no matter what obstacles stood in his way, if only he were here to know she was missing. That was what Shauna wanted to believe anyway, but she had to acknowledge that the selfish bastard wasn’t here, nor had he been for most of Megan’s life. Instead of finding a way to be with his family and be a father to his only daughter, he’d made a career of killing fanatics in the most godforsaken countries on the planet. A part of her understood why, but the part that wanted him home as a husband and father thought he’d done more than his part in those endless wars, and that enough was enough.

  And now, even though the terrorism and war had come home to America, Eric had not. Shauna thought that if she ever saw him again, the first thing she would do would be to walk up to him and slap him across the face. And if Daniel didn’t get his act together soon, she would let him have the same. As it was, Bart Branson was the only man in her life she could depend on, and she was trying her best to be patient as he suggested, waiting until they had more information to make a plan for their next move.

  “We’re gonna figure out something, Shauna, we’ve just got to get more intel on the situation outside of Florida. It won’t do Megan any good if we wind up getting arrested and put away in some detention camp trying to get there. I keep hoping every day that I’ll be able to get through to Keith or someone else that can fill us in. That’s as good a reason as I need to go out there every night and keep watch over that boatyard.”

  “I know you’re right. It’s just that it’s killing me to wait here doing nothing.” Shauna said. “Megan could be in far more danger than we are and we wouldn’t even know it.”

  “You’re not just doing nothing, Shauna. You’re surviving, and that’s a top priority. You can’t help Megan or anyone else if you don’t do that. That’s all any of us can do at the moment. You’ve got to understand that and make peace with it. If you take care of yourself then you will be able to help Megan. But going off blind without a plan would just be foolish.”

  Shauna knew Bart’s logic made sense, but that still didn’t make her feel much better about what she was and wasn’t doing. Megan was her child, even if she was almost twenty years old, and it was her job to worry about her. She walked with Bart back up to the house along the palm-shaded gravel pathway leading from the dock. Bart was carrying his rifle on a sling over one shoulder, and when they went inside, he hung it on its rack above the main doorway.

  Shauna always felt better in the isolated house when Bart was at home. The long nights while he was away guarding his boatyard were somewhat spooky, as she knew it would be up to her to defend herself as well as Daniel and Andrew if anyone happened upon the house in the dark. Shauna still had the Glock 19 that Eric had given her years before, and under his expert instruction she had become quite proficient with it. It was the same model Eric carried everyday as his combat sidearm, and he had taught Megan how to shoot it as well, promising to buy her one of her own as soon as she turned eighteen and moved off to college. But that never happened because Shauna and Eric were divorced by the time Megan turned thirteen, and she had a new stepdad by the time she was fifteen. Daniel Hartfield wasn’t a gun person and didn’t own firearms of any kind. He’d barely tolerated Shauna’s Glock when they got together, not seeing the point of it and considering its presence in the house a grave danger to his young son. Shauna refused to give it up, but did her best to keep it out of sight and out of mind. She knew part of her new husband’s objection to the Glock was simple insecurity, no matter what he told her. Daniel knew the handgun came from Eric, and that he had taught Shauna to use it, and use it well—something he could never do. Eric Branson wasn’t just another one of those stereotypical gun enthusiasts who liked to show off his toys to his buddies. The man had acquired and tested his skills on the battlefield, fighting with one of the most elite Special Ops units on the planet.

  Daniel wouldn’t admit that it still bothered him, but there were times when Shauna knew it did, especially in these last few days. The Glock was always on her belt when Bart was away from the house, and Daniel couldn’t help but be aware that his petite wife was the only thing standing between him and Andrew and the violence unfolding around them. He had finally come to the point where he realized that it was time he and Andrew learned how to use firearms, but Bart wasn’t ready to let them start target practice just yet. Even the .22 rifles he had available might draw unwanted attention from the river, so their introduction to weapons consisted of field stripping and handling, and practicing loading, unloading and dry firing until they could do better.

  As for Megan, the breakup of her parents’ marriage ended any chance of her continuing interest in shooting. None of her friends in high school were into it and by then Megan encountered teachers that brought into question everything she’d ever known about her dad. She became convinced that what he was doing with his life was misguided and wrong and that he’d been fighting unjust wars in the service of a government driven only by corruption and greed. Megan no longer believed her dad was protecting his country from terrorism, and she certainly no longer believed that she was in any danger from that threat at home. She had carried those beliefs with her when she left to attend the university, and Shauna had little doubt that Megan would become even more entrenched in that way of thinking while living on campus. She knew Megan had a lot to figure out for herself though, and trying too hard to influence her thinking would only make matters worse. It was her dream to go to Colorado State, partly because of the dramatic difference in landscape and climate and partly because her best friend, Allison, was going there too. Shauna was also quite certain that some of the attraction of Colorado was the legal high that had nothing to do with the mountains, but she couldn’t stop Megan from doing that whether she was here or out there. Her stepfather’s generosity removed any obstacles to funding the education of her choice, so the decision had been made before she graduated high school. If what had happened over the last six months had caused any changes in Megan’s thinking, it was too late to make a difference now. As far as Shauna knew, her daughter still had no means to protect herself, in a country where unprecedented violence raged from coast to coast.

  Nineteen

  BART WAS IN NO mood to deal with Daniel Hartfield after being up all night guarding the yard. Shauna had already told him what to expect though, and he was ready when Daniel started in on him again about traveling to North Palm Beach.<
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  “I’ve been thinking of alternatives, Bart. I know it’s too risky to travel the roads, even in your truck, and I know you said the Okeechobee Waterway through the lake probably isn’t open to traffic. But what if we used one of the large motor cruisers from down there in your boatyard? We could go down the river to the Gulf and then around the tip of Florida and back up to North Palm Beach. I could pay for everything. I can certainly compensate the owner of whatever boat we use, or even buy it outright once things are straightened out with the banks. What do you think about that? I think it would be far less risky because there won’t be many people out there once we get to open water.”

  “There ain’t no way in hell, is what I think about it! There’s no telling what kind of bandits we’d run into just between here and Fort Myers, much less along the coast. It won’t matter if we’re in a big boat or a small one, we’d just be a target of opportunity for anyone that sees us.”

  “Well we’ve got to do something! We can’t just sit here day after day, week after week, doing nothing!”

  “We are doing something! We’re staying alive, that’s what we’re doing! That’s better than a lot of folks can expect, I’ll tell you that! This is as good a place as you are going to find anywhere in south Florida, I can assure you, but there are no guarantees even here. Now why would you want to go and risk the lives of your wife and son trying to get over there to the east coast that’s been torn up by a damned hurricane? You may not take the dangers that are out there seriously, but you need to start thinking about them!”