The Pirates of the Apocalypse

by J. B. Craig

After Maria and Pete’s harrowing crash-landing, Maria wanted to take it easy on the approach to the channel. As they got closer, they could see a small group of people standing around on top of the nearest span to the channel. “Friendlies or enemies?” Pete asked, and Maria shrugged. She doubted anyone would bother to attack a water craft, but on the other hand, she wanted to hedge her bets. “No idea,” she said, and turned them to do a small loop. “But I also don’t want to take any chances. I’m going to try and build up a little more speed so we can pass them quickly - which means I’ll need more help from both of you.”

  Though Maria had the captaincy, she knew that Bannon was the more experienced sailor. “I need you on the bow - keep an eye out for bridge chunks,” she instructed. He nodded, hopping up to do as she’d asked. When he was set, she turned to Pete. “I want you and your 9mm in the aft cockpit, eyes on the bystanders,” she said. “I don’t want to shoot them if we can avoid it. Call out if they try to drop anything on us - just tell me which side to turn towards, whichever way is best to avoid getting hit.”

  “Port and Starboard. I got it,” Pete agreed. Maria grinned at him as she turned to run with the wind. They picked up some good speed as they approached the bridge.

  From the bow, Bannon yelled, “The deepest water looks to be five degrees to port.” Maria cut the rudder to take his suggested course, and they began to clear the underwater rubble with speed.

  As they began to pass the bystanders, Pete yelled “Incoming! Big rock to port, turn hard to starboard!” Maria reacted quickly, and a cinder block dropped just shy of the port-side bow.

  “To port!” Pete again yelled, and another large rock crashed off the teak of the Starboard rub rail. As Pete fired off a warning shot, a third stone dropped into the water five yards to port.

  Though his shot pinged harmlessly off the lower part of the bridge, their assailants scattered, ducking behind concrete walls and barriers. Before long the boat was safely away - beyond some minor cosmetic damage, they had managed to escape otherwise unscathed.

  “Well, Jesus H,” Pete sighed, coming back to the middle deck as Bannon jumped back into the cockpit. “Dropping rocks at us, didn’t even have a boat in the water to chase after our loot. No reason to do that other than being an asshole. C’mon, man!”

  “They could be trying to plug the channel,” Bannon suggested. “But who knows. People will be people.”

  “Uh, speaking of boats,” Maria said, pointing in the distance. Another military landing craft, similar to the one Reid had left on, was steadily chugging towards them. The machine gun atop it was aimed at them. “Give me my eyes,” Maria ordered, and Bannon quickly put a pair of binoculars in her outstretched hand. “And be ready to get below.”

  As Maria put them to her eyes, she was in for a massive surprise. “What is it?” Bannon asked at her sharp gasp.

  Maria turned to him and grinned. “Drop the sails, boys,” she ordered. “We’ve got company - and this time, it’s good.”

  Maria kept them both in suspense for a few minutes as the landing craft pulled up alongside them. When they got close, Pete and Bannon began to whoop and holler, Maria beaming. Reid was the Marine manning the gun, which had been turned away from them to instead point up at the bridge. “At ease, men!” Reid called. “These are friendlies. Johnson, throw them a line. Peterson, come on up and man this gun - do not point it at the sailboat. I’m going to board them for a little ‘inspection’.”

  Reid looked even older than the eighteen he’d pretended to be. His dress uniform was crisp and shockingly clean. “You look like a recruitment poster,” Maria teased, as hugs and handshakes were given all around.

  “Damn straight,” Reid said, beaming with pride. He pointed to the landing craft behind him. “This girl is my command for the next week. She’s an LCVP landing craft. I named her the Weeble Wobble, for obvious reasons,” he added, laughing. “Pretty sure they just gave it to me to keep me out of trouble. What are you guys doing out here?”

  “We’re headed to Rock Harbor,” Bannon said. “Maria’s anxious to meet up with Uncle Greg, and Pete and I are watching her back.”

  “Cool,” Reid said. “How’s everybody doing? How’s Dad? This trip must be hard on him. Have things settled down out there at all?”

  “Not much,” Pete admitted, as Bannon looked down. “But the ‘gate’ is still up, and everybody’s pulled together to fill out some gaps left by you Knuckleheads leaving. hey Guy’s!” The guys waved back with a bunch of “OOO-Rah’s coming from the boat.

  “After you left, all hell broke loose,” Bannon agreed. “Dad’s okay, and Jonah and the Chief are alright -”

  “Manito?” Reid asked anxiously.

  “Fine,” Pete said. “He got a little banged-up, but we patched him up no problem.”

  Reid breathed a sigh of relief. “It’s been tough out here,” he said. “They’ve been keeping us busy. I know people were a little pissed that they didn’t give our boys the option, but I can’t deny that we’re short-handed. We just got back two days ago from clearing a safe passage through DC.”

  Maria raised her eyebrows. “And you’re okay?” she asked.

  “As okay as I can be,” Reid admitted. “We lost some men in the process - we were expecting to have some casualties, but it was...hard.” His smile faded as he added, “I don’t know that the path will stay safe permanently. But we were at least able to escort some civilians and material safely out of the Pentagon.”

  Pete whistled. “How’s the academy?” he asked. “I’ve never seen it, but these two -” he pointed to Maria and Ban - “Have told me a little bit about it.”

  “Relatively safe, actually,” Reid said. “We’ve got officers running companies of draftees everywhere around Annapolis. All of the juniors and seniors immediately made Ensign, and they’re leading troops to keep it safe around the actual school.”

  “That’s a relief,” Maria said. “We’ve been worrying about you.” A thought occurred to her, and she pulled Reid’s pendant from around her neck. “Your dad gave this to me to keep safe for you.”

  Reid gently pushed her hand away. “You hang onto it for me, cuz,” he said. “We’re on patrol in these waters for a week - me and the other Dragons in the boat here - but knowing me, I’ll just forget I’m wearing it and get dinged for a dress violation when we get back. Most of the guys from home were assigned to my squad.”

  More “OOOH-Rah’s” came from the Marines.

  “We started heading your way when we heard shots fired,” Reid continued. “You guys have a run-in with the bridge crew?” Maria nodded, and he rolled his eyes. “Sorry about them. I wish we had enough men to run over and take out the trash, but they aren’t ‘strategic targets,’” Reid said, voice dripping with sarcasm. “For now, at least. Since my unit did so well in DC, they’re going to send us back into the shit soon, this time to see if we can mow our way through Baltimore.”

  “Are you going to have time to go look for Mom?” Bannon asked tentatively, like he was afraid of the answer.

  “Oh yeah,” Reid boomed, absolute certainty in his voice. “As soon as I’m at APG, any time I can spare is going into looking for her. I’ll start at the hospital and work my way around as we clear shit out.”

  “Awesome,” Bannon said, brightening. “Part of the reason I’m heading out with these guys is to help Uncle Greg set up a HAM transmitter at Rock Harbor, so hopefully we’ll be able to keep in touch. I can’t wait to hear Dad on the other end once we’re set.”

  “Nice,” Reid said. “Dad. The big dog has to be suffering. Hope he’s doing okay. I’m sure he’s lonely with you guys leaving.”

  “He says he is, but he wants to keep things safe for Aunt Sally in case she’s already on her way back,” Maria said. “If you guys are operating out of the channel, are you able to drop in and see everybody? I’m sure they’d appreciate a visit.”

  “Well…” He winked at the group. “Technically we aren’t supposed to. Our area of operation
s is south of the bridge span. But,” he announced cheerfully, “Knowing that you civilians were taking hits gives us a chance to go ‘gather intel.’” Turning to the ship at large, he asked, “Whaddya say, boys? You agree that these jackasses on the bridge are a danger to themselves and others - including our families?”

  Choruses of “Hell yeah!” and “Ooh-rah!” rang out from the troops. The gunner popped off some shots at the bridge.

  “Yep,” Reid agreed, laughing. “I think we were just ‘assaulted.’ We’d better go after them!”

  After a last round of hugs and well-wishes, Reid had his men restock the Miss Behavin’ with additional MREs and a full ammo can for Bannon and Maria’s M16s. He also surreptitiously handed Bannon two grenades. “Pocket those,” he murmured, pitching his voice low enough so only Maria and Bannon could hear. “Our inventory is spotty at best, since men are what’s in short supply.”

  “Thanks,” Bannon said, quickly slipping them into his shorts. “If you give us the frequency you all monitor, we can check in on the HAM when we get to the Harbor.”

  We channel hop on the military sets, but I I will try to listen almost every day at noon on the Gibson Island channels,” Reid said. “Your call sign is Dragon Two. Mostly listen, and keep the chatter down. When you talk, do it fast. You don’t want to get triangulated for another Homeland draft.”

  “Is it that bad?” Maria asked.

  “Worse,” Reid said grimly. “DC was a shit-show. Not every base has reasonable officers to “soften” the Homeland Security crew. I love my brothers, and I’m glad I joined, but I’m equally glad they didn’t pick you up,” he told Bannon.

  “I am too,” Bannon agreed with a smile. “Part of the reason I’m heading to RH is to get into the farmland. I’m hoping to get away from all of the violence for a while.”

  Reid nodded. “Well,” he said, setting his hands on his hips. “We’ve got to shove off, or we won’t have any time to visit the families. I’ll do my best to restock them, too. Defending the forest will be easier with a box of claymores, which I always have in my squad.”

  “Can you let Uncle Timmy know we made it past the bridge safely?” Maria asked. “I’m sure he was concerned about it, given what happened last time.”

  “I sure will,” Reid agreed. “You guys should have smooth sailing at least twenty miles downstream - there hasn’t been any chatter about any piracy, so you should be good. Just keep an eye on the weather - I hear there’s a big storm coming in, but you guys should be okay. Find some shelter and wait it out.”

  “You got it,” Pete agreed. “Any other advice from a weathered seafarer?” he asked, needling Reid.

  “Well, kids,” Reid joked, and mimed waving a cane around. “There’s a safe harbor full of good old sailors down by Naval Air Station, over on the Patuxent. If you sail down to the river mouth and turn to your starboard, it’s no more than five miles upstream on your port. You can call them on Guard frequency - tell them your Marine family sent you,” he added, handing over a US military family ration card. “Don’t worry, I’ll just grab another one. They’ll be happy to give you overnight shelter and refit.”

  “Thanks for the tip, ‘old man,’” Bannon teased, ruffling his brother’s hair. “Hopefully we won’t need to use it, but I’m glad we have the option.”

  “Just be careful,” Reid advised. “If you get any reply with DHS initials in it, like ‘Please Dock at Harbor Safety officer station,’ bypass that spot. They don’t know it, but we’ve been warning off civilians from bases where they don’t allow conscientious objectors - even if hurts our numbers in the long run.” He sighed. “They’re not bad guys, they’re just doing their jobs - and don’t paint them all with the same brush. One of them even saved my life in DC. Just - be careful.”[1]

  “We will be,” Maria said. “You be careful too. Stay safe out there.”

  “You got it.” With that, he kissed his cousin Maria on the cheek and climbed back up onto the deck of the LC, bumping the gunner out of his seat. “Full steam for home!” he called, and the cheers echoed down the river long after they had faded out of sight.

  23. Summer Storms

  As Captain Maria and her crew of pirates made their way south, they looked back and smiled as Reid sprayed the bridge with his gun, cackling the whole time. Maria waved one last time, and Reid signed I Love You Cuz to his oldest cousin. Reid’s warnings had been right. The increasing wind speed brought heavy clouds rolling behind it - while it meant they could keep the Miss Behavin’ running at a decent clip, the trio also knew that they would have to find a harbor before the summer storm hit.

  With the danger of the bridge behind them, she had Bannon take the wheel. Pete had the map, and they instructed him to find them a safe inlet where they could wait out the storm. After consulting the map, Pete’s choice was Poplar Island, which was U-shaped and would provide extra shelter for the wind. Following his directions, Maria and Bannon sailed them towards the Poplar Harbor Narrows to ride out the storm.

  Once the island came into view, Maria turned to port and ran with the wind. She had Pete drop the aft sail while Bannon stood by at the main sail, his knife at the ready. “Ban, I’m going to come about into another starboard tack,” Maria called over the growing wind. “Once we make the turn and we’re behind the island, drop the mainsail and we should be able to coast to a safe harbor. When I give the word, drop the anchor, and we’ll swing around with our bow into the wind.”

  Bannon gave Maria a thumbs-up. “Okay, Pete,” she called. “Give us as much anchor line as you can - the wind will push us back. I’ll drop the concrete block off the aft end for a mooring, and we’ll cross our fingers!”

  “I trust you,” Pete called, patting her on the back. “Tell me when you’re ready.”

  Maria made the tack and called for the mainsail to drop. The wind and outgoing current pushed them downstream, away from the island. “Drop anchor!” Maria shouted to Bannon.

  He did, and fortunately the anchor bit as the wind pushed the Miss Behavin’ towards the shore. When Maria felt the anchor line pull tight at the end of the rope, she dropped the cinder block off the aft deck and tied it off at the rear stanchions. She wasn’t sure how much slack to leave, but figured she’d try about ten feet to allow them to drift a bit in the gusts and tides while still keeping her bow into the wind.

  As the full fury of the storm hit, they battened down all of the hatches. They had agreed to keep watch in two-hour shifts, knowing it would be difficult to concentrate much longer than that in the wind and the rain. Whoever was on duty would take the poncho and spend a soggy, chilly two hours in the cockpit.

  The outgoing tide continued to push the aft end of the boat downstream. The cinder block held as a good secondary anchor, sliding further south until it finally got a bite on some structure. By then, the boat’s bow was pointing northwest, the stern southeast.

  By the time Maria passed Bannon to take her shift, the tide had changed to run north. As she took the deck, she could see that the stern was further west than she wanted - the incoming tide was hitting the keel, pushing it north, so the ship had begun to list. While she would’ve been fine in temperate conditions, the storm was passing overhead, and its gusts were threatening to roll the boat.

  There was no way that she was going to sink her second sailboat! Maria tried to untie the rope holding the cinder block, but it was firmly knotted, so she got her knife out and cut the line. The loss of one block wasn’t a problem, given that they had a few more for ballast below.

  With one crisis averted, Maria now realized that the long anchor had become an issue - they were getting close to the shore of the island. Eventually the keel hit bottom, and they were grounded. Fortunately, the incoming tide meant they wouldn’t be stuck long-term, and the ship was no longer in danger of capsizing. She would have to worry about getting them back onto the water after the storm had passed.

  Maria huddled under her poncho and kept watch for her two-hour shift. By the end of
the shift, the tide was running in hard, and she knew they would be lifting off the mud in a bit. As she handed off the watch to Pete, she told him to give a tug on the anchor line every half-hour or so to see if he could pull them off of the mud, and trudged back down to the cabin to get some much-needed rest.

  A sharp rap on the cabin startled Maria out of a sound sleep. “Guys,” Pete called in a panicked whisper, “We may have a problem.”

  Maria looked out the starboard porthole and saw that the weather was calm. The boat was gently rocking on a pivot point - it felt like the keel was still in the mud, but loosening up. Bannon looked out the port side porthole a few seconds after and immediately ran forward towards his pack, whispering an urgent caution to Maria. Maria heard Bannon, but too late. As she stepped into the cockpit, she was greeted by six rifle barrels, pointed at her and Pete from a boat a few feet away. Pete took a defensive step to the side, covering her from the guns, whispering, “stay behind me, sweetheart.” A group of men had pulled up near the sloop in a jon-boat, and looked ready to shoot.