Back from the Brink_Toward the Brink V

by Craig McDonough

  Back from the Brink

  Toward the Brink Book V

  Craig A. McDonough

  Back from the Brink: Toward the Brink V

  Copyright © 2017 by Craig A. McDonough

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Special thanks to my wife, Rhue McDonough.

  And of course all the members of my mailing list at www.craigmcdonough.com

  Dedicated to the loving memory of

  ShaVargas Baldwin - Susskind

  1966 - 2017

  Much beloved daughter of Rhue McDonough .

  Taken away too soon.

  Contents

  1. One

  2. Two

  3. Three

  4. Four

  5. Five

  6. Six

  7. Seven

  8. Eight

  9. Nine

  10. Ten

  11. Eleven

  12. Twelve

  13. Thirteen

  14. Fourteen

  15. Fifteen

  16. Sixteen

  17. Seventeen

  18. Eighteen

  19. Nineteen

  20. Twenty

  Interlude 1: Like Ships in the Night

  21. Twenty-One

  22. Twenty-Two

  23. Twenty-Three

  24. Twenty-Four

  25. Twenty-Five

  26. Twenty-Six

  27. Twenty-Seven

  28. Twenty-Eight

  Interlude 2: We Are Sailing…

  29. Twenty-Nine

  30. Thirty

  31. Thirty-One

  32. Thirty-Two

  33. Thirty-Three

  Interlude 3: Steady As She Goes

  34. Thirty-Four

  35. Thirty-Five

  36. Thirty-Six

  37. Thirty-Seven

  38. Thirty-Eight

  39. Thirty-Nine

  40. Forty

  41. Forty-One

  42. Forty-Two

  43. Forty-Three

  44. Foty-Four

  Epilogue

  Also by Craig A. McDonough

  Chapter One

  One

  A lone figure sat on the rocks and watched the sea roll in below him. Further out, the calm waters gave way to choppy white caps—not unusual in the North Pacific. A chill wind blew from the North as dark gray clouds mushroomed into giant, bulbous tumors in the sky.

  Days like this were the norm around Sandspit for the small group of survivors left behind.

  Elliot Goodwin sat alone on the rocky outcrop east of the semi-circular bay that contained Sandspit’s tiny harbor. As always when alone—which wasn’t often given the circumstances—Elliot pondered life, their situation, and recent events. The submarine that appeared from the depths breathed a new lease of life into their survival chances, of that there was no doubt. If it hadn’t been for Tom Transky’s—whose idea it was to seek refuge on the faraway archipelago of Haida Gwaii—they wouldn’t have got this close.

  After a terrifying first night firefight with foamers, the survivors settled down and were able to plan their day to day needs without the constant fear of attack.

  That was before Tom remembered the spoilsport system, as it was termed, and the barrage of nuclear missiles that would be released when no updates were made to the computer system that controlled the destructive arsenal.

  The effort to fly back to the East with Marine chopper pilots in a small helicopter from Sandspit airport to override the program proved to be in vain. Tom was killed, as where the others', except Elliot Goodwin—who escaped with the loss of one eye.

  As the lone survivor of the ill-fated exercise, Elliot was weighed down with the guilt of demons perched atop his shoulders.

  Together with new friend Jerry—and his rescuer—he was able to make it back to Sandspit, but not without incident. He was glad to see old friends Chuck, Riley and his dad, but sad to learn that most of the others’ had left when a US Navy submarine emerged out from nowhere and offered to take them to Australia or New Zealand—where the foamer plague hadn’t reached. Or so it was believed. Elliot was eager to see Cindy again, not because she was pregnant with their child, he just needed to be with her.

  They didn't part on good terms, and he loved her far too much to let disagreements come between them.

  Though reluctant, Elliot agreed with Chuck that her departure with the others', was for the best.

  Chuck was right, as always, and if roles had have been reversed Elliot would have suggested the same. He would just like to have seen her once more before she left.

  As he watched the waves his mind wandered back to the helicopter crash which claimed the lives of fellow survivors he felt close to—Tom in particular. Elliot didn’t remember anything about the incident but his rescuer, Jerry, told him there were no other survivors, everyone was thrown clear at impact and that he—Elliot—was the only one found.

  But did he check for the others'? And if he didn’t…

  Elliot had to question Jerry about the crash.

  Since their heroic landing of the Cessna, Jerry had spent his time either in bed at the motel or on one of the recliners in the reception office.

  Sergeant Morris, the Marine combat medic, informed everyone at Sandspit that a fractured sternum would require months of rest. And even then, Morris warned, it would never be a hundred percent.

  “At least I’m alive, huh?” Jerry often joked.

  But what of Tom and the others? Could they be alive, thrown clear and left unconscious? It was a question he had no answer too but had to find out—and fast.

  Time was of the essence as they say in the classics.

  * * *

  “Is Jerry awake?” Elliot asked, the instant he burst into the motel office without so much as a “how do you do.”

  “Hey Elliot, where have you been?” Riley asked, more surprised than inquisitive. “And close the damn door, will you. The wind blows right in here. The generator struggles to keep this place warm at the best of times, and we don’t need to make it harder.”

  “I just gave Jerry a sedative, Elliot,” Morris answered. “He’ll be awake in a few hours and—”

  “I can’t wait that long. I have to speak to him now.”

  “Elliot you can’t—”

  Too late. Elliot burst into the former manager's office—now Jerry’s recovery room.

  “Jerry, I need to talk with you.” Elliot kept his voice low but prodded his injured friend in the shoulder.

  “He might not wake, Elliot, it was a strong sedative.” Morris, who followed Elliot in, said.

  “He has to. That's all there is to it!” Elliot replied then continued to rouse Jerry.

  “Okay,” Riley stepped into the room and demanded an answer. “Somethings got under your skin, would you like to let us in on it before you create a medical complications?”

  “Sure, just let me—”

  “Now would be a good time Elliot.”

  Riley Mulhaven had been with Elliot from the first day of the foamer outbreak in Twin Falls. A Gulf War veteran and Twin Falls cop, he’d also become known as an individual with excellent judgment, honesty, and compassion. Everyone relied on this father figure with the Morgan Freeman features since the start of the catastrophe.

  Riley seldom had to raise his tone with anyone in the group and didn’t want to do so with Elliot. He was relieved when the young man agreed to answer him right away.

  “It’s about T
om and the others'. They might still be alive.”

  Riley paused to look around the room then back at Elliot.

  “You said—as Jerry did—that you, and you alone, survived the helicopter crash and—”

  “Yeah I know, and I’ve thought about it, and that's why I have to speak to Jerry.”

  * * *

  The constant jabs’ into Jerry’s shoulder, finally, aroused him from sleep.

  “Jerry? Hey, Jerry, it’s me, Elliot,” a stronger than a whisper voice said to his left. “I need to talk to you.”

  “Oh, err… sure,” Jerry turned his head to the side and blinked his eyelids a few times before recognition set in. The eye-patch sported by the young man was hard to forget. “Sure, Elliot.”

  With a cracked sternum, the patch-up job that Morris performed meant Jerry could lie on his back—that was it. Getting up for meals and the bathroom were his toughest hurdles.

  “You’ll excuse me for not sitting won’t you?”

  “Still with the wisecracks I see.”

  “Oh, please Elliot, don’t use that word.”

  “What, which—”

  “Cracks!”

  Elliot’s shoulder-length locks bounced as he threw his head back with a smile, and Jerry forced one of his own. There wasn’t much to smile about these days, but he was alive, and he had that to be thankful for—and his new friends.

  “Let me get straight to the point. I know you’ve had a strong sedative so I won’t keep you awake longer than necessary.”

  “Okay, sounds good.” Sleep was all Jerry had on his mind at this moment.

  “You told me you heard the helicopter come down but didn’t see it, right?”

  “That’s right. After the blast, I kept my head down until the flash passed and that's when I heard your chopper, but before I got outside, you’d hit.”

  “So, you didn’t actually see anyone get thrown from the chopper?”

  Now Jerry understood the line of questioning. Elliot’s conscience wouldn’t allow him to let his companions go.

  “No, I didn’t. I saw you near the wreckage, you were alive, and there’d just been a nuclear blast. We had to get to safety fast, there was no time to check for anyone.”

  Jerry reached out with a hand and took hold of Elliot’s. It was a struggle, and it caused a sharp pain to shoot across his chest.

  “I’m sorry Elliot, I did what I thought was best at the time.”

  “I know, I know you did and believe me I have no regrets about the decisions you or I made. I just had to know for certain whether you found any others' dead or alive.”

  “And now that you know?”

  Elliot had started for the door when he stopped and turned. He looked straight at Jerry and said without hesitation.

  “I’m going back.”

  Chapter Two

  Two

  “You can’t be serious?” Riley said when Elliot told him of his plans.

  “Oh, but I am, and you better believe it!”

  “Do you know how long it’s been from the time Jerry picked you up until you arrived back here?”

  “That's not the point Riley, and you know it. How would you feel if you lived through a nuclear blast in a place surrounded by foamers and none of your friends came back for you?” Elliot was incensed by Riley's lack of urgency in mounting a rescue. “The question isn’t whether or not to do it but how long will it take to get under way!”

  “Elliot this is insane. We have one pilot and he’s lying on his back with a cracked sternum and fractured ribs. Even if we did decide to go back, there’s no one to fly the plane.”

  Elliot didn’t answer—you can’t argue against logic, but there had to be a way—had to.

  “That’s not quite true Riley,” a tall figure, silhouetted against the sunlight, came through the open door. “I overheard from just outside here.” Chuck motioned with a flick of his thumb toward the motel’s parking lot.

  “Okay, who then?” Riley jumped on him.

  “I can fly a Cessna. It’s been awhile, but they’re just like bicycles… really, once—”

  “Bullshit Chuck. They’re not like bicycles. You came off a bike, you have a scraped knee, elbow or a dinged head. When your plane goes down, boom! Out go your fucking lights. Big difference, Chuck, big difference.”

  When Riley swore so soon in an argument you knew he was so pissed or adamant he was right and wasn’t about to entertain any other ideas. But Elliot believed with the Tall Man on his side, he could persuade the stubborn Riley Mulhaven.

  “Let's move outside and discuss this. We’ve got a rare bit of sunshine, and we should make use of it,” Chuck gestured to the door, “and we don’t need to disturb Jerry either.”

  Everyone filed out after Chuck with Riley the last, who closed the door behind him.

  Now we can get down to the nitty-gritty. Elliot was excited at the speed at which things were moving.

  Everyone that now made up the Sandspit Caretakers—a name that Chuck had come up with—gathered in the parking lot of the motel. It was far more a court with tarps overhead bench seats placed around and several oil drums in the center used for a warm fire or outdoor cooking. The motel had been turned into quite a comfortable survival camp now, it almost made one feel like you were on holiday and not among of the last humans on earth.

  “So you’re encouraging this foolishness?” Riley confronted Check the moment he joined them around the fire.

  Chess had remained silent so far but kept his eyes on proceedings—as did the others'.

  It was the Riley, Chuck and Elliot show.

  “I don’t think it's a question of encouragement, it’s just as Elliot said, ‘how would you feel if you were Tom?’ It’s a fair question. Are you prepared to just leave him?”

  “But we don’t have any indication whatsoever if he’s alive and it’s thousands of miles away—in case you’ve forgotten.”

  “I’d like to say something if I may?” The quiet, but firm voice of James Goodwin, interjected.

  “Sure James, go ahead.”

  “Thanks,” James said to Chuck before continuing. “I agree with Riley, this sounds as foolhardy as it gets and—” James raised a hand to his son when he saw him about to interrupt. “Hear me out, please.”

  Elliot stepped back and allowed his father to continue.

  “Taking another journey like this without any evidence that Tom’s alive is sheer madness and what’s worse is doing it with someone who hasn’t flown in a long time,” James cast his eyes over at Chuck and gave him a wink. “But Tom was a good man—a very good man—and as we know, if it wasn’t for his forethought, we wouldn’t have found this island sanctuary and might not be alive now. We owe our lives to Tom. So, I think we can show our appreciation by at least making the attempt.”

  Elliot didn’t say a word, but rushed forward and grabbed his father in a bear hug.

  “Hard to argue with that Riley, you got to admit.” Chuck commented on James’ emotive statement.

  “Yeah, looks like logic has been defeated again.” Riley answered Chuck with a disgusted shake of his head.

  “Logically, I’m with you. Tom chances, or any of the others', of surviving are remote at best, but it's not about logic anymore, it's about loyalty.” Chuck said.

  “But be honest, Chuck. Can you fly that plane back to Idaho and don’t give me your hero bullshit—I’m tired of picking up the pieces every time you do a John Wayne on us.”

  “Sure I can. A Cessna isn’t that much different from a car. If we can avoid bad weather and have enough gas, I can get us there and—more importantly—get us back!”

  “We need to get ready ASAP then Chuck,” Elliot broke free from his embrace with his father and joined the conversation.

  “Those dark clouds will hit in a few hours and could keep us socked in for days. If we’re going, e have to do it now!”

  For everyone gathered in the parking lot, Elliot’s last words came as a shock—more so for the Tall Man. />
  “You think we can get this organized in such a short time?”

  For the first time, there was indecisiveness heard in Chuck’s voice. “Whats there to organize? We fuel up the plane, load some food on it and take-off for Idaho. Simple!” Elliot was determined, he stood his ground.

  “We could save time, divide the tasks,” Chess got off the fence and came in on Elliot’s side. “While one group readies the plane, another can grab supplies, weapons, and clothing.”

  “Good thinking, Chess!” Elliot often wondered if any of the others’ saw the resemblance in Chuck and Chess—apart from their names beginning with the same letter of the alphabet.

  Like an avalanche, Elliot’s rescue plan gained momentum.

  “Did you say something Sam?” Chuck yelled when he heard a murmur from the back.

  “Just thinking out loud is all,”

  “About?”

  “Who’ll be the lucky stiffs to go on the cruise?”

  “That’s taken care of,” Elliot said. “Chuck will fly the plane, and I know where to go, so that answer your question Sam?”

  “Just the two of you?” Riley asked before Sam could respond.

  “There were five others’ on the chopper with me and if we find all still alive, I…” Elliot threw his hands up, and shook his head in frustration. “I don’t know, but the plane is a four-seater, and if we find more than two alive we’ll be in trouble.”