Seeking a Sane Society: Nothing is the Same (The Seeking Series Book 2)

by Albert A. Correia

  “Let’s try the shore that way,” one called to his friends, indicating the northwest entrance to the harbor.

  “They have guns there, too. The old cruiser is better.”

  “It’s military. They’re bound to have guns.”

  They argued, but whatever their decision might have been was immaterial. The most renowned survivors in the history of the world had smelled blood. Marine life did not return to its previous state of abundance, and the great white sharks were hungry. Over fifty converged on the site. The whitecaps were quickly tinged with red.

  * * * * *

  Captain Kotchel went to the forecastle to talk to the helicopter pilot. He brought the man and his MH-65C helicopter south from the U.S. Coast Guard Station at Humboldt in Northern California. It was used mostly for search and rescue operations. From time-to-time, though, the Coast Guard used it to search out drug smugglers. It was armed with a machine gun and precision rifle.

  The helicopter and its pilot was not part of this war.

  “It’s decision making time,” Kotchel told the pilot. “I just got a call from Warren on the other side of the island and it’s worse than we anticipated. The submarine is gone and he’s up against three large, heavily armed boats. He doesn’t stand a chance. I know you’re concerned about this wind, but do you think you can get over there to help him out?”

  “It will be dicey,” the pilot allowed. “I’ve never taken it up in winds over fifty knots, but I understand the situation and will give it a shot. The chopper is built for bad weather, so maybe this is a piece a cake for it, even if it isn’t for me. Are the gunners ready?”

  “One each for the machine gun and the rifle, and I’m sending four other men. Two have bazookas and two are their loaders. We’ve got to throw everything we have at them.”

  “The pilot laughed, but not with mirth. “It’ll be a crowd, but maybe the weight will act as ballast to stabilize us against the winds.”

  While the pilot and gunners were boarding and loading the ammunition, the captain had six men detach the lines holding the helicopter down. They moved the aircraft forward, away from the ship’s superstructure. The cutter wasn’t built to carry a helicopter but Captain Kotchel claimed it for his ship when he was up north.

  He had the missile launchers, which were also foreign to the ship and attached in a makeshift manner, removed to make room for the craft. The launchers were stored below decks and would be re-installed when they found a permanent home for the helicopter.

  The orange and white copter was soon in the air. Its course was north by northeast and the wind was blowing toward the east, so it was being pushed off to the side. It bucked, dropped, surged, and swerved at the start but did make progress in its flight across the island.

  * * * * *

  Zach caught motion off to his right and turned to see an extraordinarily large man had launched himself at him. There was no time to get his rifle up, but his ranger experiences took over, and he kicked hard at the man’s groin.

  The kick hit solidly, but Slaughter’s momentum carried him right at the ex-ranger. Zach sidestepped, but large arms and hands grabbed at him as they passed. He squirmed away, but the hands latched onto his rifle and Slaughter took it with him as he fell to the ground.

  Rifle in hand, the huge fellow was up immediately. Zach was amazed. Anyone else he had ever kicked like that doubled over in pain, and then he was able to go in and finish them off. This guy seemed to have taken the kick in stride. Worse, he hadn’t lost his concentration, thinking clearly enough to grab his rifle. He could easily level it and kill him on the spot.

  But the big man tossed the rifle aside and came at Zach again.

  Another kick caught the man in the stomach, and Zach moved to the side and swung his arm around hard, hitting the bridge of Slaughter’s nose with the edge of his open hand.

  Zach thought the kick and chop would certainly take the big man down.

  It didn’t.

  * * * * *

  Slaughter was hurting but wasn’t about to let the guy know that. He wondered if going almost six months without having to maim someone had softened him, but now wasn’t the time to ponder that. The man had to learn that he was up against a superior fighter and didn’t stand a chance.

  He growled, “You’ll pay for that, runt!” Shaking his head, he spun slightly round to get Zach directly in front of him and lunged again.

  Malcolm Slaughter was not a fancy fighter. His forté, brute force, won the day every time. This time he anticipated a kick and batted the foot away. He got his massive arms around Zach’s mid section.

  The ex-Ranger couldn’t squirm away but he did manage to get his arms raised before he was in a bear hug. Slaughter’s arms tightened around his middle, just as he planned. He had him! He wasn’t concerned about the arms. They would be in the way if he had them within his grip, and the man couldn’t generate any power with them in this position.

  Slaughter began to squeeze the breath out of Zach so he wouldn’t be able to put up any more of a fight. In seconds, his strength would be gone. After that, it was simply a matter of head-butting and then knocking him cold.

  The fun part, breaking the upstart’s limbs, would come later, after he was out of gunshot range.

  He paid little heed when Zach stretched both arms out wide to the side, level with his head. He did begin to pay attention, though, when the man in his grasp arched his back and bent a little at the knees. Slaughter braced for what he was sure would be a couple of anemic punches to his chin. That would smart a bit, but the guy couldn’t generate much of a swing in his position.

  “Now!” exclaimed Zach.

  What does the fool think can happen now, except his demise? Mal thought

  Too late, he felt knees against his thighs and pressure against his arms as Zach leaned back hard. He was using Slaughter’s own strength, his vice grip, to gain stability and generate power.

  The hands didn’t come as fists punching at his chin. Instead, they came at him like the hard grips of a vice shooting together at mach speed. The heels of Zach’s hands slammed into Slaughter’s ears. The pain in his head was excruciating and sounded like a clap of thunder had hit between his ears. Unable to hold on, he slowly loosened his grip and slumped to his knees

  Zach grabbed the arms that were still loosely around him and flung them away. Out of breath, he, too, fell backward.

  Slaughter shook his head as real world sounds returned. He heard the fierce winds getting even stronger and the sound of a helicopter. It wasn’t really the time to think about it but he couldn’t help but wonder what a helicopter was doing there.

  He stared at his adversary. He desperately wanted to make him suffer but time was running out. Zach was only four feet away and still recovering his breath. Slaughter knew that he would fight back no matter what his condition. More time wasted.

  He hated to do it, but he had to kill him right now. Self preservation trumped hurting people on his list of priorities.

  If I get in close and grab him as I shoot him, he won’t fall and his friends by the rocks won’t know he’s dead, he thought. I’ll drag the body in front of me and use it like a shield the way I was gonna if he was alive. They won’t shoot as long as I got him.

  He reached behind his back and pulled out his pistol. Zach was gasping for air as the huge man moved in on him.

  “Nooooo!” came a piercing scream. It overrode all other sounds.

  The word was caught by a gust of over seventy-miles-per-hour and flew into Slaughter’s still throbbing ears.

  “Nooooooooo!” This one more piercing than the first.

  The eerie scream ricocheted around in Slaughter’s head, driving out all else. His eyes swept the terrain in search of the terrifying source.

  * * * * *

  Chapter 50

  ZACH heard the sound, but his combat experience had taught him to keep focused on the danger in front of him – the gun that was about to be aimed at his heart. He could be dead in the
blink of an eye if he didn’t act instantly. In the split second Slaughter’s eyes were diverted, the ex-ranger took two strides forward. His right fist was cocked and his left hand pushed Slaughter’s gun hand aside.

  This time Zach’s plan did include a punch to the chin. Using his momentum, he stepped into a powerful right cross to the big man’s jaw.

  Slaughter’s head snapped to the side and the impact of the punch knocked him backward.

  Zach still had his left hand on the Slaughter’s gun hand and his momentum carried him hard into his adversary. His shoulder caught the big enemy leader in the chest. The punch and driving shoulder kept the huge man stumbling uncontrollably toward the ledge. A powerful gust of wind swept across the area and pushed them both toward the edge of the cliff.

  Zack was facing the cliff and saw that they were both headed toward almost certain death. He let go of Slaughter’s gun hand and fell to the ground, grabbing for a rock. His lower body kept moving, but the rock held. He came to a stop with his legs from the knees down hanging over the side. The rest of his body was safely on the ledge.

  * * * * *

  Slaughter kept stumbling backward. When he saw Zach drop to the ground, he realized his gun hand was free. He brought it around to shoot the fool but just at that moment, his back foot stepped into open space.

  He dropped the gun and grabbed for something, anything that would stop his progress. His hand landed on a clump of grass, and he wrapped his fingers around it. For the briefest of moments, he felt that he had saved himself, but his momentum and the powerful wind proved too strong. He went over the side with the uprooted clump of grass in his hand.

  He bounced off a small outcropping ten feet below the top of the cliff. That sent him fifteen feet out into space. He tried to turn to face what he hoped was water, but there wasn’t time. His back and head hit on a large, jagged rock in shallow water immediately offshore. His body came to rest atop the rock. His hand opened and the clump of grass fell into the crashing waves and disappeared.

  Broken and bleeding, Slaughter did not move – except for one foot hanging over the side of the rock. Every few seconds the crashing seas slapped water against his foot, moving it up and down. Otherwise, the massive assault troop leader was completely motionless.

  * * * * *

  Zach went over to look for his adversary. He saw Slaughter atop the rock. He wasn’t moving, and Zach guessed that no man could have survived such a fall.

  As he looked at the innate body, his thirteen-year-old daughter joined him.

  “I’m sorry, Dad,” Denise exclaimed. “You were between him and me, so I was afraid to shoot. With the wind so strong, I couldn’t be sure the bullet wouldn’t hit you instead of him.”

  He put an arm around her and hugged her tightly.

  “What you did was perfect,” he told her. “Once again, you saved my life.”

  * * * * *

  “Han, you took over this ship illegally,” Wang said loudly. “You have committed an act of mutiny.”

  Han turned from the periscope to see the captain and Yu behind him. He saw that Ling had the captain’s pistol pointed at them.

  “No, Captain Wang,” he said, “I represent the Chinese Communist Party. By consorting with the enemy, you have abdicated your position as the captain of this vessel. And by setting a prisoner of the State free, you, too, are now a prisoner, Yu. Ling and Bai, take them back and lock them both in the captain’s cabin. Guard the door.” He turned back to Wang. “I will get back to watching your friends being destroyed by what is now this country’s ruling party on the mainland.”

  They were speaking Mandarin. Wang now knew that Han spoke English, but what they were saying was meant more for the crew than for each other.

  The captain put up his hand. “Not so fast,” he said. “Ling and Bai, you know that I am the legally appointed captain of this ship. It is by order of the People’s Navy that I am in command. Han is simply our cook. He has no authority except to order groceries and prepare our meals, and even then, it is only subject to my approval.”

  “Do not try to confuse them” Han responded angrily. “They know who I am.”

  “How do they know that?”

  “I told them exactly who I am, and what my authority is.”

  “Told them? You did not show them your official papers?” Wang looked around and saw that the crew was listening intently to the exchange. He and Yu moved closer to the man with the gun.

  “That is not how it is done,” said Han. “The Party expects its representatives to act when it is necessary, but cannot anticipate each and every action we must take, so they do not give papers out until it is necessary.”

  “Then,” said Wang, “it seems only logical that you contact them and get the necessary papers.”

  “You know I cannot,” stormed Han. “Our country was totally destroyed by these people you find so congenial.”

  “Are you saying that you cannot get papers because there is no one to give you papers?”

  “Yes, but you know very well they would if they were alive. It is an unimportant technicality.”

  “I have papers,” said Wang. “I have orders. “Our navy, our country, has always been governed by rules and by orders. We would be in a shambles if we allowed anyone who claimed to have authority to take over just because they say they have it.”

  “Our country is in shambles,” cried Han. “There is little left except us.”

  “But, we – those of us on this submarine – are not in shambles,” Wang said evenly. “However, if I allowed you to usurp my authority, we would be. That, I will not do. It is critical to our survival that we continue to live by the rules of order.”

  “I’ve heard enough of this nonsense,” said Han. “You have nothing to say about it,” He saw that Wang and Yu were close to Ling. “It ends now. Ling, shoot them both!”

  * * * * *

  Chapter 51

  AN eighty-mile-per-hour gust hit the helicopter as it approached Isthmus Cove. The buffeting winds caused the aircraft to fly erratically from the start and the new challenge almost downed it. The pilot fought to control the craft as it yawed and dipped sideways.

  He was able to get it upright but had to keep it low where the winds were less intense. He tried one more time to take it up and over but the winds were increasing, and he was forced to find a flat area to land.

  It took more than two minutes of expert handling but he put the craft down safely.

  “Are we going back up?” asked a man with a bazooka. “We need to take out those boats.”

  “Not a chance. We couldn’t get another fifty yards before we crashed, especially going over the rise.”

  * * * * *

  Two of Slaughter’s seventy-foot boats continued to pound the settlement at Two Harbors with bazooka fire. They destroyed over half the buildings and killed more than fifty of the people defending the area.

  The third seventy-foot boat broke off from its assault on the settlement and engaged the people on Warren’s boat with their two bazookas. Sam, the shooter aboard Warren’s boat, had the advantage – the seventy-footer was a larger target than Warren’s forty-footer – but they were almost five hundred yards apart. The wind blew all the rockets off target. Sam, too, missed all his shots. The difference was, he had no more.

  * * * * *

  Ling did not move, and he looked uncomfortable.

  “I said shoot,” Han hissed.

  “Please give me the gun, Ling,” said Wang. His voice was soft but did not waver. He moved his hand slowly, palm up, toward the crewman.

  “No,” cried Han.

  He was too late. Ling handed the gun to his captain.

  Han leaped toward Wang, but Yu tackled him. They both hit the deck, with Yu rolling on top. Han shot a knee up, but Yu blocked it with an elbow.

  “I am as skilled in martial arts as you,” he told Han, “and I have you down. You are finished on this ship.”

  “Members of the crew,” Han called, “in
the name of the People’s Republic of China, I order you to capture Captain Wang and Executive Officer Yu.”

  Bai started toward the captain, but two members of the crew restrained him.

  “We are with the captain,” one said. “It is he who was given command of this ship. He has served his country, and us, well.”

  Most of the others in the area nodded their agreement. None did anything to oppose Wang and Yu.

  Yu got off Han, and Wang handed him the gun.

  “Please take Han and Bai to the brig,” said the Captain. “I have work to do here.”

  Ling looked undecided on what to do next.

  The captain put a hand on his shoulder. “You did the right thing, Ling,” he said. “I thought you would; you are a good man and a fine representative of the People’s Navy. These are strange times but as long as there are people with the devotion that you have, we will survive.”

  He turned to the rest of the crew. “Prepare for action. Months ago, in the China Sea, it became our duty to rid the seas of pirates and looters. The problem exists here, as well. Our duty now is as it was then. We shall make appropriate use of our last two torpedoes.”

  * * * * *

  For the first time since he started boating, Warren was grateful for bad weather. His boat was being tossed around like a top in a stormy gutter but so far, that had saved them from being blown apart. The two boats shooting at land were still scoring hits – the land did not move when the wind hit it – but the shooters on the boat chasing his cabin cruiser had not been able to nail it.

  Out of rockets, Warren was now in full retreat. They still had their automatic weapons and kept the seventy-foot boat at bay by blistering it with gunfire when it tried to get close. If it ever got in close, its bazooka fire would eventually hit them.

  That worked for almost fifteen minutes, but it wouldn’t last much longer. They were running out of ammo for their AK-47s, too.

  “What are we going to do?” Sam asked.

  “There’s one possibility,” Warren replied. “I’m going to head northwest and hope they keep tailing me.”