"That was pretty amazing, like watching a musician tuning a twelve-string guitar. I've been on ships and powerboats, but never a sailboat, it feels alive."
"She. Sailboats are female. I'm convinced Robin is alive, so mind your tongue. She is listening to and remembering every word you say."
"That's funny, this is the first time in years I haven't been recording everything that's being said around me. I had a sort of memorial service for all my electronic devices that just died; then I smashed all of them with the tractor and buried what was left. It felt very liberating."
"Come over here and steer. See the navigation markers? The red ones are shaped like converted cones and the green ones are shaped liked cylindrical cans."
"Got 'em."
"The channel we need to follow is between them. Even though there is a lot of water out there, much of it is too shallow to navigate, so we need to stay in the channel. Leave the red cones to port, the left side. Watch behind as well as ahead, and stay in the middle of the channel. It's simple, I gotta go below for a minute."
"Seriously?" he asked.
" 'Aye, aye, Capt'n' is the only appropriate response for a stowaway trying to make deckhand."
In the cabin Tess tried the radios again and found them still jammed with static, no help there. That meant she needed to figure out the weather they were likely to experience and make a plan on her own. Taking into account the current local conditions and where she guessed the advancing cold front was, she knew they would have adverse winds for the rest of the day.
Tess realized that if she wanted to make the C&D Canal in the near future she would need to use the engine. By sailing while running the motor, she could keep the diesel motor at a fuel-saving rpm and still make good time to the canal.
It had taken her fifteen minutes to gather her thoughts and use the head, about the time limit she felt comfortable with in leaving Eric alone in the cockpit. It was about the same amount of time it took from first spotting an approaching vessel on a crossing path and getting uncomfortably close to it. Time to check for other boats to see if they were about to be run over.
After doing a 360-degree scan when she first stepped into the cockpit, Tess looked at Eric who was standing at the helm expectantly. "We've got traffic both crossing and overtaking, what's your plan?"
"Miss 'em both," Eric said, turning to look behind them. "I was watching the boat crossing and I think he'll cross in front of us. I didn't know about the one behind us."
"Did you take a bearing on the one crossing?"
"No, I don't know what you mean."
Tess stepped to the compass mounted just in front of the helm. "You look across the compass at the crossing vessel and get a compass bearing to it. Give it a minute or two and take another bearing, if the bearing isn't changing a collision will result. If the bearing is changing closer to the bow then the vessel will cross in front. Got it?"
"Yes."
"Take a bearing then," Tess said, doing the same by watching the crossing vessel's progress by using one of Robin's bimini supports, in the same manner she would use a tree to gauge cloud movement.
"Okay, that boat will cross in front of us. What do I do about the one coming up behind?"
"Nothing since he has plenty of room to pass. If we were in a tight channel, like the canal we're approaching, a pass would be arranged by VHF radio or whistle signals. If a faster boat comes up behind us in the canal and we hear one short blast of his horn, it means he intents to pass on our right, or starboard side, two blasts means on our port side. If for any reason it is unsafe to pass we would sound three blasts to warn them."
"You're driving when we get to the canal, right?"
"We'll see, you're doing just fine, and it's good practice."
The overtaking boat went by and its bow wave rolled toward them. Tess did another quick scan for traffic and found none closing on them. "See that wake coming toward us?"
"Yes."
"Just before it gets here turn into it, and cross it at something close to a 45-degree angle, then get back on course."
Eric complied and Robin's bow sliced through the wave easily. "That's a neat trick. It's meant to keep us from rolling side-to-side right?"
"Right. Have you found the next channel marker physically as well as on the paper chart?"
"I see it," Eric said after leaning out of the cockpit and studying the waters ahead.
"Our government needs to figure out how to defend against cyber attacks and get the GPS system operational again, it makes navigating so much easier. Until then that's what those binoculars are for. Get used to finding the next marker ahead of us before you lose sight of the one behind us. That way you'll also know if the current is pushing us to the side."
Eric got busy looking ahead and behind through the binoculars, then comparing that to the chart. Tess gave him time to figure out if what he was seeing agreed with the paper chart. After a few double takes and head scratching, a smile from Eric indicated to Tess that he finally understood.
"Thank you. I think I get it, but let me run through it and have you correct me. The idea is to first pick out the markers by eyeball and then transpose what you see to the paper chart?"
"Correct. I keep a chartbook of paper charts just in case the electronics fail. Plus the government can, and has, shut down the GPS signals in the past, just like now. On a boat, having systems in place that aren't dependent on anything to do with electrical power is prudent."
"Being less dependent is proving to be important no matter where you live, if you want to live. Just when society became totally dependent on modern conveniences, some bastard figured out a way to deprive us of anything we cannot provide for ourselves, or so it seems."
Tess had been looking at the sails and reading the instruments while Eric talked. Though she heard what he said it didn't have any bearing on moving Robin, so she didn't respond to it and changed the subject back to more pressing matters. "We're not making much progress toward where we need to go, and the next course change will make it worse. I'm going to start the engine and motor sail. I'm betting it's more important to burn some diesel now to get through the canal, than it might be later on during the voyage. Your thoughts?"
"I'm not sure what our needs will be a week from now at sea, but I'm sure that we have a finite window to seize the opportunity allowing us to go to sea to find out. No matter what else happens, I suspect freedom of movement will get more restricted. It wouldn't surprise me if the Coast Guard, or somebody else, stops us before we get offshore. They've got to be looking for 'domestic eco-terrorists,' or whatever they are calling anyone suspected of shooting transformers and antennas. Let's get through the canal while the getting is still possible."
Tess nodded then reached down and started the main diesel engine. Once it came to life she leaned over the stern, to verify that sufficient cooling water was coming out of the exhaust, then she put the transmission in forward. She smoothly increased the engine rpm to 1500 and then watched the knot meter. Robin's speed through the water accelerated and then stayed above six knots even during the wind lulls; feeling satisfied Tess left the throttle where it was.
"Next, we're going to roll in the headsail and just use the main for now. By doing that we are more maneuverable in the narrowing channel as we approach the canal. At this rpm motor sailing is pretty economical for Robin, we will burn less than half a gallon of diesel per hour."
"It's good for a boat to get twelve nautical miles to a gallon of fuel?"
"You would be amazed at how much diesel powerboats, like the one that anchored in your backyard, burn at cruising speed. They have twin diesels and each will burn at least ten gallons an hour."
"Twenty gallons of diesel to move the boat how far?"
"Ten to fifteen nautical miles probably. I'm basing this on what I've seen at fuel docks. Those big power yachts take on hundreds of gallons every day on the way down the Intracoastal Waterway. Before topping off Robin's tank with your spare fuel, I last
filled up in Maine, which is one reason I chose sailing as a sport to pursue."
"I can see I need to get out more. I've been so tied to a monitor and a keyboard while navigating the virtual world, I have a skewed idea of the real world."
"I had this conversation with myself just recently. Be warned that reality has a way of interrupting complacency at the absolute worst time possible."
"Yeah, like a tornado cutting in on a perfectly good dream in the middle of the morning," Eric said, remembering his most recent reality check.
Andy, Jennifer, Tye & Reb - East Texas
"One move and you'll lose an eye. We're here because we're starving and we're gonna eat, or die trying. Do you understand?" the man's voice said in Jennifer's ear.
"I understand."
"Good. Now we're gonna crawl back into the trees real quiet, start moving slowly . . . on your belly. I'm gonna be right beside you, ready to shove this knife up your ass if you don't do as I say."
She saw the point of the knife disappear from her field of vision then felt the tip scraping across her cheek, down the nape of her neck, her back, and her buttocks, finally stopping on her upper leg.
"Crawl nice 'n slow, and be quiet, or I swear I'll shove it in to the hilt; and only one of us will enjoy it." He pressed the knife's tip against her crotch, the material of her pants at the verge of its tensile strength.
Jennifer started crawling.
~~~
With the carcass balanced on its back for only as long as he held it, Andy looked up to determine Jennifer's progress, and immediately went into full crisis mode. Shouting her name he ran to the Jeep, retrieved the AR-15, and fired a round into the air to alert the group that they had an emergency. As soon as he saw Tye and Bernie coming he waved for them to follow and then ran for the spot he had last seen Jennifer.
At the edge of the tree line he slowed to shine the flashlight across the icy ground, as he looked for any signs of a scuffle in the areas where there was mud instead of ice. He spotted what he thought were drag marks, and he turned to follow them at a trot. He held the slender flashlight and the AR's foregrip in his left hand, using his right hand to pull the butt firmly into his shoulder. His rifle's point of aim was inside the flashlight's beam, and he scanned ahead for whoever had made the tracks.
"Stop right there," a man said, holding Jennifer with the flat of his knife on her cheek, the point barely below her eye.
Andy stopped at the sound of the voice and then saw Jennifer over the sights of his rifle. He moved his point of aim to the side of her head; her face was white in the glare of the flashlight, a drop of blood ran down her cheek. He kept the rifle to his shoulder, aiming just to the side of Jennifer and waited.
"Your choice. You want this heifer alive you leave us the dead ones in the field."
Andy considered his reply long enough that the man continued without it.
"Leave us that flatbed, then get the Jeep and all your people through the gate. We'll let her go when we have the meat loaded 'n are ready to leave."
Again Andy waited, hoping the man would make a mistake before he had to back away from him and Jennifer.
"What? You deaf? Put that gun down and get going, now!" The man stepped into Jennifer, tightening his arm around her neck, jerking her head back even further.
The silence grew heavy as the two men stared at each other, challenging the other to move first.
Jennifer's body went limp; the sudden dead weight caused the man to stumble as he tried to hold her up. Needing both of his arms, momentarily, he moved the knife away from Jennifer's face. Andy brought the front sight to the man's forehead and squeezed the trigger. Both bodies dropped straight down in a tangled, unmoving pile in the dusk.
Covering the thirty yards to Jennifer in a mad rush, Andy was pulling the man away from her in seconds. He bent to see if she still breathed and felt warm breath on his cheek when he put his face close to hers. He ran his fingers through her hair feeling for blood.
"She's breathing and not bleeding," he said as Tye and Bernie rushed up. "I think the bastard choked her out by mistake."
Wes, back from checking the house and trailers, and Ben came in seconds later. Wes went to check on the would-be kidnapper while Ben knelt beside Jennifer. He checked her breathing and pulse and raised her knees.
Jennifer's eyes started to rapidly blink, and she went into a coughing fit. They helped her to her knees where she stayed for a minute while concentrating on her breathing, trying not to go into another bout of coughing. When she felt ready she caught Andy's eye and pointed up, not yet trusting her voice. Andy helped her to her feet and steadied her through another coughing spell.
Wes came up after checking the attacker's body and said, "I know that guy by sight; this will be the last entry on his rap sheet."
With Bernie on one side and her father supporting her on the other, Jennifer walked back to the jeep, brushing off her dirty clothes and still coughing more than speaking. Ben, Wes and Andy followed behind.
"That was pretty ballsy," Wes said to Andy. "Jennifer's probably got gunpowder burns on her as close as that bullet passed."
"When she went limp his whole head was exposed, so I aimed as high on his head as possible. What was I supposed to do?"
"You did the right thing, if you've got the balls to pull it off, is what he's saying, Andy. You go to the range and train?"
"No, I've misspent my youth as a gamer, I'd be embarrassed to tell you how many hours I logged before I decided to quit last spring."
"You're shitting me," Wes said.
"It's worse than you think. Bolt-action hunting rifles I know how to shoot, but the first time I shot a real AR-15 was yesterday, when Sam got shot. I'm just now getting practice, but I know it hits what it's aimed at."
Ben looked at Wes and raised an eyebrow.
"Don't be giving me that shit, you're the one supplying him with ammo," Wes said and gave Ben a good-natured shove.
"He put three assholes in the ground tonight. Compare his game time against your range time; which gave the best return on investment?" Ben asked and gave Wes an elbow.
"It ain't over yet, there were more like six to eight people out here than three. Those others are still hungry and more pissed off than ever," Wes said.
At the vehicles Tye suggested that Andy take Jennifer back to the house to guard it while the rest of them followed with the beef and the flatbed.
~~~
At the house Reb put down the shotgun and went into action fixing an herbal tea with honey, as soon as she heard the story, though Jennifer assured her she had recovered. Jennifer sat at the table with Reb and Melissa, sipping a cup of tea while Reb cleaned and medicated the scrape that went from the edge of her eye down to her collarbone.
Andy went out back to get the generator going. When he flipped the switch and lights came on in the house he could see Jennifer through the window, talking with Reb and Melissa. He could plainly see the red mark that went down her cheek and merged with the red marks circling her neck. A sudden taste of bile followed by a cold sweat made him sit down on the back porch steps, as he hoped the feeling would pass.
"You sick, Andy?" came a small voice barely above a whisper.
Andy looked up to find Leo standing at the back door, "Something I ate is bouncing in my stomach, that ever happen to you?"
"No, 'cause my Mom makes me chew so much it's mush and won't bounce."
"You have a smart mom, I guess I better chew more times, huh?"
"Yeah. So, why is Aunt Jen all dirty?"
"Some bad people came, and she fought them off and saved us tonight."
"Let's go see her," Leo said and pulled Andy to his feet.
Gus & Ela - Unaweep Canyon, CO
As the temperature went down with the sun all the moisture on the ground changed to ice; the falling rain changed to snow. Smelling wood smoke Gus decided to return to the house and warm up by the fire. After rounding the corner of the shop and starting for the house, a dim li
ght in his peripheral vision caught his attention. Looking directly at it he recognized it as headlights reflecting off the low clouds. He whistled loudly then turned and ran back to the shop, almost relieved that something was happening.
Inside the house Ela bolted up from the kitchen table and ran to the front door, with Hank right behind her. They both saw the light as soon as the door opened. Ela ran to the living room and brought back two AR-15s, giving one to Hank.
From the way the lights moved independently of one another, Ela thought at least two vehicles approached. Looking toward the shop she could not see Gus, but she trusted him to be there. She momentarily wondered at the dichotomy of knowing she could trust him, while still wanting to blame him for what had happened. Her emotions were as mixed up as the weather.
Hank moved to the kitchen and slit the plastic that covered the window on the front of the house. Then he opened the window on the side of the house, so he could observe and fire through both, if needed. Ela remained at the front door.
Inside the shop's opened doorway Gus was seated behind Al's customized 300 Winchester Magnum, with a NightForce NXS 5.5-22x55mm scope mounted on it. Earlier he had found and positioned a table and chair to establish a rock-solid rest for the heavy rifle. He pulled the parallax knob on the side of the scope and illuminated the reticle, to make sure the battery was installed and still held a charge. The crosshairs in the scope glowed red; he turned it off and waited for a target.
The first headlight came into view followed closely by the second one. Gus found them in the scope and slightly turned up the magnification, trying to see the figures behind the glare of the light. The lead rider of the snowmobiles intermittently flashed into view when the headlight of the following vehicle shined on him. Nearly positive that the lead rider wore the familiar black snowsuit, Gus decided to slow their advance. He put the crosshairs on a spot in the middle of the trail where the lead machine's headlight focused. While tracking the bright spot he put his finger inside the guard, preparing to touch off a warning shot. The pad of his index finger found the trigger. The big magnum went off, forcefully pushing him back before he was ready to fire; it had a much lighter trigger than he'd anticipated.
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