Chapter 60
THE massive explosions were so violent they shook the ground at The Isthmus settlement and even shattered a few windows. The container ship was cut in half with the first blast, and the second, which came less than a second later, blew both halves to pieces. The hole in the water the explosions caused sent forty-foot waves out in a wide, turbulent circle.
Large parts of decks, hulls, superstructure, and an engine flew hundreds of feet in the air. Smaller pieces of shrapnel and metal shards shot out much farther, hitting the only thing left on the water – the Coast Guard cutter.
Several aboard the cutter, which oscillated wildly when the explosion-born wave swept past, were hit by flying debris. A piece of shrapnel hit Denise’s right arm, cutting through flesh and breaking the bone. The thirteen-year-old was wounded for a second time in the wake of a global war in which everyone lost.
Even before the cutter stopped rocking, the questions began. “What happened?” cried George as he got to his feet.
“I’m not sure,” replied Captain Kotchel, who was lying nearby, “except for the obvious. That ship blew up before it got to us.”
“I know,” said Stacey. She was using a rail to get to her feet, scanning the area around the ship.
“You know what?” asked Zach, who used the same rail to get off the deck.
“Yeah, I know what happened,” she replied, smiling.
“You think?” asked the captain, now on his feet next to her. “Yes, of course. It has to be.”
“They’ve been watching us all along and came to our rescue once before.”
“Ah,” said Zach, “you’re talking about Captain Wang and his sub. I bet you’re right.”
While the water was settling, the ship’s medic started treating the wounded. It was only then that Zach and Stacey found out that their daughter was wounded… again.
“I’m so sorry, Denise!” Stacey held her daughter tightly.
“Mom, I’m alive. Three minutes ago, I didn’t think I would be, so everything is fine.” She giggled. “Except you’re hurting my arm.”
Stacey let go, and the family laughed.
When the wave action settled into small whitecaps around the explosion area, the Chinese submarine surfaced and motored over to the cutter. As always, Captain Wang was the first to climb up to the conning tower. He saluted. “Captain Kotchel,” he said.
The Coast Guard captain returned the salute. “Captain Wang. I offer you our most heartfelt thanks for torpedoing that ship.”
“We shot four simultaneously just to be certain. We couldn’t let them sink our source of food and fuel, now could we? The way it exploded, though, one would have been enough.”
“They had a huge amount of ordnance in their holds,” Kotchel explained. A torpedo must have hit the ammo, and it all erupted at once.”
“Live by the sword,” said the Chinese officer.
Stacey said, “I couldn’t think of a more fitting epitaph for a bloodthirsty bunch of pirates.”
“Mrs. Arthur… it is good to see you once again,”
“And, once again Captain Wang, I say the pleasure is definitely more mine than yours.”
He acknowledged the remark with a slight nod, and then turned back to Kotchel. “Is there anything more I can do for you folks before we again become invisible?”
“I think it’s time for us to rethink your being inconspicuous,” said Kotchel. “Among other things, I’d appreciate a tow to Port Hueneme where I hope I can find some propellers and shafts that fit.”
“Among other things?” said Captain Wang.
“If you’re going to be part of this community, and I believe you have proven reasons to legitimize such thinking, it would be odd if you were always invisible.”
Captain Wang smiled in response.
* * * * *
Before the Chinese and Coast Guard left for the mainland, Captain Kotchel took the La Sirena group ashore on the skiff. They took Captain Wang and two of his men along so they could be introduced to the people on the island. They also took all the supplies Glen and Mae had brought from Santa Maria.
The Arthurs offered to share all the supplies with the islanders, and Captain Kotchel relayed that information to them via the transceivers they used for communicating with one another. After the transfer was made, the Chinese crew became a topic of conversation.
The movable dock used at The Isthmus was sloshed up near shore by the explosion’s shock waves, so the people on shore moved it back out toward the bay. Once it was in place, fifteen of the settlement’s population walked out on the dock to meet the people from the boat. Zach was the first off the skiff. He tied its line to a cleat and went over to introduce himself to the people. The others stepped off the skiff and joined them.
“Welcome to The Isthmus, all of you,” one of the leaders said. He turned to Wang. “Captain Kotchel has told us about you. He says you and your men want to help around here.”
“We do,” said Captain Wang. “It is our hope to become an integral part of your settlement.”
“If you each do your share, you will,” the man said. He turned to Glen and Mae. “We originally planned on telling you to keep your supplies for yourself. However, we lost some things during the attack, so we will accept the things we need.”
“Whatever you need is yours,” said Glen.
As the settlers looked through the supplies, young Glen hobbled out on the dock, accompanied by a woman in her late twenties. All the Arthurs rushed to greet him.
After hugs all around, Zach asked why his son was limping.
“He banged his knee saving my three-year-old daughter,” the woman told him. “A shell started a small landslide, and he dove into the middle of it and pulled her out. Your son is a real hero.”
The fifteen-year-old acted as though it was nothing out of the ordinary, which his family understood. A small landslide wasn’t hard to deal with after a bullet wound, being shot at by bazooka-bearing madmen, and surviving more than one storm at sea.
“He just wanted to have some kind of wound so I wouldn’t be ahead of him,” said Denise, She moved her arm out as far as the sling would allow so he could see it.
He pulled up one leg of his pants to show off a bandaged knee. “I bet mine is bigger than yours.”
The two laughed and walked together, him limping and her favoring her arm, toward the settlement.
“Okay,” said Millie as they all walked toward the few buildings that were part of the settlement, “where’s the hotel?”
“What’s left of it is over here behind the store,” a man said. “Not really fit for guests at the moment, though.”
“It will be,” she informed him.
* * * * *
Ron and the elder Glen went with the Coast Guard officer and the Chinese when they towed the cutter away. Both men would spend the next few weeks in extended training of the cutter’s crew on the use of their weapons. Ron accepted Captain Kotchel’s offer to stay aboard as an officer. He eyed the crops growing on the sides of hills with envy, but the sea was his first love. The older man planned to return to The Isthmus with the Chinese to begin a new chapter in a life that had seen many changes.
Millie and George stayed in the area where the buildings sat. The restaurant wasn’t touched by the tank and missile onslaught, and two buildings, including the small hotel, were only partially destroyed. They were already in deep discussions with the hotel’s owner. They anticipated it might be a while before a hotel was needed – as a hotel – but they were determined that it would be available quickly for whatever use it could be to the settlement.
The Arthurs walked to the far end of the second harbor where the La Sirena was anchored. It took two trips in their small dinghy to get them all out to the sailboat, but they were settled in by sunset.
They could see the heads of buffalo and goats over the hills to the north. The animals had fled from the gunfire to the northwest corner of the island but were returning in the quiet of the ev
ening to look curiously at the humans below them.
There was no fog and only a few clouds over the Pacific west of the island. The Arthurs, now five in number, sat in the cockpit, watching the sun as it settled in. The reflection shimmered in an almost straight line toward their boat. The few clouds in the sky captured a rainbow’s pallet of color from the setting sun. Neither the sun, nor the sky, nor the expansive dark blue ocean, appeared to have been changed by what humans had done to the world.
“It’s beautiful here,” said Mae. “No wonder you all like boating so much.”
“How are you feeling, Mom?” asked Zach.
“Just fine, son, just fine. Feeling a little tired, though. I brought some seeds in hopes I could get my herbs to grow wherever we landed, but I’m out of them for the moment.”
“Gosh, Mom, with all the turmoil I forgot all about it. We brought herbs from Hawaii for you… wait here.” He climbed down into the cabin and retrieved the herbs from the backpack he had with him since he first landed at Gaviota.
The last sliver of sun disappeared as he returned to the cockpit. “Here, Mom. Do you take them with anything?”
Mae smelled the herbs and looked at them lovingly. “I heat them in water, like tea. I’ll do that in a little while. Right now, I just want to sit here. This was so thoughtful of all of you. I hope you didn’t go to any trouble getting them for me.”
The four looked knowingly at one another, recalling what took place that fateful night in Hilo and all that had happened since. A big smile broke out on Denise’s face. Glen started to chuckle. Then, they all burst into laughter.
“What’s so darned funny about that?” Mae begged to know.
Zach hugged his mother. “Nothing, Mom. Or, everything. We’re just happy to be here!”
The End
Get a sneak peek at
Al Correia’s
anticipated sequel in
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The Arthur family enjoys their first peaceful night’s sleep on beautiful Catalina Island, only to be confronted the next morning by demands for “taxes.” They, along with all the other residents of Catalina, learn that a former state legislator – who happens to be a former state prison inmate – has installed himself as governor of California.
Catalina and Tracy, a small Central California town, are among the few habitable areas still in existence, but they must fight to survive. Each area has to find its own way of combating an illicit government, and its militia, a cutthroat gang of hardened criminals
Expected in the Fall of 2016
1. Traitors
A CONTINGENT of people from Wormwood came toward Fitch. Mike and the Governor were waiting when they reached the town’s outskirts near the old fairgrounds. Mike started walking forward with the Governor at his side.
As was agreed to at an earlier time, the two small groups came toward one another slowly and unarmed. When they were face to face, Alvin Cobb, known to his men as Slasher, approached Mike and the Governor with an outstretched hand. They all shook, Alvin smiled, and Mike smiled back, though it was a bit forced.
Unbeknownst to the Wormwood contingent, they were in the scope of Sergeant Eric Bell and his spotter, Tim. They were on a slight promontory about three hundred yards away. An easy shot for Eric if he needed to take one or more of these outlaws out. It was simply a precaution.
“What brings you here?” Mike asked the leader of this group. The weather was warm and they were all sweating as the sun beat down on them. Quite a change from the rain storm yesterday, though it was to blame for the humidity. Beads of sweat formed on foreheads and above their lips. An eagle soared above them in search of a meal and the sky was blue, devoid of clouds.
Alvin responded in a non-threatening tone of voice, “We want to discuss some of the hangings that are occurring.” Knowing he had the support of his followers, he continued. “My people are of the opinion your militiamen are getting a little overzealous with your hangings and it’s resulting in the death of innocent people.” He paused for effect. “That is what brings us here today.”
Mike eyed the man and after a moment said, “What proof do you have that those in question were innocent?” Mike waited as Alvin motioned for two of the men with him to come forward.
When they came to the front of the group, Slasher prodded them, “Tell Mister Governor and the Admiral what you told me.”
One of the men, a young man appearing to be in his early twenties, began to tell a story. He spoke in an arrogant manner, sure that he was immune from any repercussions by saying, “These people hanged Andy Clifton and Joe Marston last week. We found their bodies hanging from a Madrona tree in the gulch by Two Stone Canyon. Me and some of the others cut them down and gave them a proper Christian burial.”
Mike asked him, “That doesn’t answer my original question. What makes you think they were innocent?”
The young man snapped back with, “You hanged them without any proof they did any crimes!”
Mike said, “What proof do you have they were innocent?”
The young man was visibly agitated and spoke louder, “Whatever you said they did, I’m telling you they didn’t do whatever they were accused of. They were hanged on no evidence!”
Mike said, “Do you want to be a little more explicit and give us some pertinent details of what, exactly, you’re alleging?”
The young man became more agitated and said, “I knew them both and they were honest hard working men who had wives. And they were hanged by your vigee-lan-tees. Now they’re dead, and I’m telling you they didn’t do whatever was said they did to get them hanged.”
Mike answered the man by saying, “You’re still not offering a shred of proof those two were innocent. Let me explain something to you, to all of you. When our Militia catch people in the act of killing, raping, or pillaging innocent travelers, there is, in fact, a trial of sorts. You see, those who perpetrated the crimes and are caught red handed are judged and dealt with on the spot.”
“The problem is, you see,” Mike’s voice had an edge of sarcasm to it, “is that we don’t have the luxury of maintaining and staffing a prison and jails to put these people in and wait for a tidy trial before we execute them. We do what we have to do to stop the rampaging and suffering by innocent people simply traveling down the roads. We have our roving patrols to assure those innocent travelers can make their way in peace and in safety. So again, I ask of you, let’s hear your proof.”
“I’ll show you my proof!” and with that statement the youngster reached for a pistol he had hidden, tucked in his pants. As he brought it up into firing position, a hole appeared in his forehead and he crumpled to the ground.
There wasn’t much left of the back of his head as his body fell to the ground with a thud; a small cloud of dust sprang up from the impact. Those around him were splattered with blood and bone particles. A second later, the explosion was heard off in the distance as it echoed off the surrounding mountains.
The Wormwood people came to alert and Mike said, “I wouldn’t go for any other hidden weapons if I were you or you’ll wind up dead like your pal here. We have a team in place who will deal with you if anyone tries anything. You see, we are unarmed, as agreed upon, but we suspected you might not keep your word.”
Slasher, recognizing he was not prepared for this confrontation where he was sure to lose, quickly recovered, “Of course you’re right Admiral! He got what he deserved, didn’t he boys?” He nodded his head to have those around him agree. “We didn’t come here to fight. We came to talk. There was no justification for him to draw on you like that, and I’m sorry that we didn’t search him properly before approaching.”
Alvin addressed his group, raising both hands in the air to make his point clear, “Look boys, these people have the right to protect themselves. Let’s not have any more attempts at gun play. Besides, I’m sure no one else has a gun, do you?” he looked around.
“Not us, boss, no sir-ree!” came the reply from a cou
ple as they scanned the hills trying to pinpoint where the shot had come from.
Alvin “Slasher” Cobb offered a hand to Mike and said, “Please accept my apologies for what happened here. We came in peace and there was no reason for that kid to do what he did. I guess he’ll never do it again will he?” The comment made Alvin laugh.
Mike did not.
“Listen, we simply came to tell our side of it, but apparently that kid lied to us and we bought it. It is our intent to protect those who are innocent. We apologize for his actions and we’ll be on our way now.”
Mike thought about it as the group turned and headed back down the road to Wormwood “That guy is slick. He is someone we’ll have to watch for and be aware of anytime we have to deal with him. I think there will come a time when I’ll have to kill him.”
The following day a roving militia patrol came into Fitch. There were twenty eight of them. They had two captives, and three travelers who had decided it was safer to move down the road with armed horsemen as added protection from highwaymen. Everyone was covered in dust, and the horses looked well ridden, with a layer of sweat and mud covering their flanks and necks.
They rode over to an abandoned warehouse which had been converted into a stable and barracks for the Militia. Several young men came out and led the horses away by their reins, three horses per person.
“Looks like you rode hard this time,” one of the young men commented.
“Yep,” the Sergeant replied, “we sure did.”
“Did you catch any bad guys this time out?”
“Just those two,” was the casual answer.
“Junior, make sure they’re all brushed and fed real good, will you?”
“You got it, Sergeant.” The men walked into the large warehouse entrance and slipped through the door. One by one they all filed in, except the travelers who headed to the fairgrounds to pitch tents for their stay.
Seeking Safe Harbor: Suddenly Everything Changed (The Seeking Series) Page 22