Feral Nation Series (Book 7): Feral Nation [Sabotage]

by Williams, Scott B.

  Shauna’s words infuriated him, but Daniel was done arguing with her. She was leaving and that was that. She and Eric and especially that old bastard, Bart, had filled Andrew with their crazy ideas and nothing Daniel could say would change his mind or theirs. And no matter what Shauna said, Daniel knew damned well there was more to her urgency to go with Eric than just her belief that she and Megan would be safer out there. Daniel didn’t know what he was going to do now, but he knew he needed time to think, and he was determined to have it. He barely slept that last night that the trawler was tied to the dock, and before dawn broke, he had gathered his things and gotten them off. He told them all he was going to stay there aboard the schooner because he wasn’t feeling well, but the truth was, Daniel felt great. He felt great because lying there awake all night gave him time to make up his mind about what he was going to do. All he needed was a little time, and from the way Keith described how remote that lake was, Daniel figured he’d have more than enough by the time they moved the trawler there and got the anchoring sorted out and came back. He knew that with the way things were going, with Eric’s urgency to move both boats, this could be his last opportunity to be both alone there with the schooner and have access to the two vehicles. He was determined not to waste it.

  His bag was still on the dock where he’d left it that morning, and Daniel had no intention of bringing it aboard with him when he entered Dreamtime’s cabin right before the trawler pulled away. He heard Andrew calling out to him, but Daniel didn’t come back up to wave. He would see his son again soon enough; he was certain of that. He sat on a bunk in the main salon and listened as the sound of the Miss Anita’s engine began to fade into the distance. Daniel wanted to make sure they weren’t coming back, although he knew Keith could do so in a matter of minutes, in his much faster patrol boat. He stuck his head back out of the companionway to verify they were all out of sight, and then he dropped back below and began searching. He lifted bunk cushions and checked the lockers under there, and then found a screwdriver so he could remove the floorboards and look in the bilges. Although he found several rifles and handguns in various calibers, along with plenty of magazines and boxes of ammunition, Daniel still couldn’t locate what he was looking for. He was certain they must be aboard somewhere, but after nearly a half hour of searching, he hadn’t turned up even one of the hand grenades or the special projectile grenades he knew Eric had for the rifles that were equipped with launchers. Had Eric taken all of them with him when he and Shauna and Jonathan left on the Gulf Traveler? Daniel knew it was a possibility, but he had hoped that he had left a few here for Keith, in case he needed them. There was also the possibility he’d secretly moved them to the trawler, but either way, Daniel was certain there were none aboard the schooner because he searched every nook and cranny he could find there. And while he didn’t find grenades or other explosives he could use; he did uncover Eric’s stash of gold coins. Daniel smiled as he counted them out in his hand; eleven one ounce and fifteen half-ounce South African Krugerrand coins, hidden right there under his nose all that time. He had no idea where Eric got so many of them, but he knew he had traded some of the smaller denomination gold pieces to those guys manning the blockade at Fort Myers, Florida. No doubt Eric planned to use the coins for trade wherever they eventually sailed to, but since Daniel was determined to make sure they didn’t sail at all, he saw no reason to let such a trove go to waste. He put the hefty little pouch in his pocket and sat down on the bunk to think. The schooner was built of aluminum, and while there was plenty of wood in the interior, Daniel didn’t think it would burn all that well, at least not the hull and main structures. There had to be another way, and it occurred to him the next best option would be to simply sink it. Putting Eric’s Dreamtime on the bottom of the bayou wouldn’t be as satisfying as ripping the hull apart with explosives, but it would more or less accomplish the same thing. The only question was how to do it?

  He knew he could simply blast a bunch of holes in the bottom with one of the rifles, especially that big game rifle that Bart said would stop a grizzly in its tracks, but bullet holes were small, and he was afraid it might take too long for the water to come in. As he pondered this, it suddenly dawned on him that there was an easier way. When they’d first boarded the vessel after launching it from Bart’s boatyard on the Caloosahatchee, Eric had given them an orientation and list of dos and don’ts that he said were of crucial importance to their safety. One of the things he pointed out was the vulnerability of the thru hull fittings and their hoses, telling them how the seacocks worked and how to use the emergency plugs secured near them in the unlikely event that a fitting broke off. Eric said the thru hulls could take on water fast, because they were inch and a half diameter holes that penetrated directly through the hull below the waterline. The fittings were necessary despite the risks, however, because they were connected to discharge lines from the two heads, the sinks in the forward head compartment and the galley, and the raw water-cooling intake for the engine. Eric said the failure of even one hose at sea could quickly result in the loss of the boat if quick action wasn’t taken to shut off the flow. Daniel smiled, as he could only imagine how much faster the schooner would go down with all of those hoses cut at once. It was a solution that would work, and the best thing about it was that it would make no noise and therefore attract no attention if anyone happened to be in the area.

  Of course, sinking the boat there in the bayou wasn’t the same as putting it on the bottom of the Gulf, but Daniel had heard Keith comment before they moved it in there that the schooner’s draft wouldn’t be a problem. It was impossible to gauge how deep the muddy water actually was by looking at it, but he thought he’d heard eight feet mentioned. He went to the switch panel and scanned the breakers until he found the one labeled “depth gauge” and flipped it on. When he climbed up into the cockpit and removed the cover from the instrument, Daniel was pleased to see that it actually read 8.7 feet. He leaned over the side to judge the height of the deck to the water and then estimated the height of the cabin top above that. The schooner was low and sleek, with minimal freeboard and a coach roof just high enough to provide standing headroom down below. Sinking it to the bottom here would be enough to put the decks and cabin completely under, even if the higher Bimini and the masts lying horizontal above it were still visible. Daniel figured that would be more than enough to keep it from ever going anywhere again. The engine and the electrical system would be ruined, he was sure, not to mention everything stored down below. Eric’s plan would be thwarted, and Shauna and Andrew would have no choice but to go to that refugee center in Texas. They would thank him later; Daniel was certain of it.

  He grabbed one of the semi-automatic AR-15s Eric had stashed below, along with a couple of loaded magazines for it, and then sorted through the provisions, picking out what he thought he would need for his trip. When all of that was piled on the dock beside his other bag, Daniel grabbed a sharp knife from the galley and opened the cabinet below the sink. The drain hose for it was easy to get to, and after making sure that the seacock was open, he decided he would save that one for last, as it was right beside the companionway that would be his exit. While there was a second head in the small, separate aft cabin, Daniel didn’t know if he would have time to cut the hose to that one or if it would even make a difference. The main head forward had two seacocks, one for the sink and one for the toilet, so he would take care of those first.

  As he grabbed the first hose in his left hand and put the edge of the knife to the soft silicone rubber, it seemed so silly to him that such a stout, ocean-going vessel could be designed with that kind of vulnerability below the waterline. The knife sliced through the hose with little resistance, and suddenly Daniel found himself soaked in a geyser of bayou water that spurted out of the opening into his face. He hadn’t expected it to be under so much pressure, but seeing how fast the water was coming in, Daniel grinned as he cut the second hose to double the flow. It sounded like someone had tu
rned two faucets to wide open up there by the time he made it back to the companionway. Daniel was in a hurry now as he lifted the steps off their hinges to access the engine room behind them. The raw water intake was right there in the front, and after opening the closed seacock, he cut the hose supplying it too. By the time he had the steps back in place so he could escape, the bilges were already full, and water was pooling over the cabin sole. Daniel quickly slashed the galley sink hose to give the water another entry point and then he scrambled up the companionway, tossing the knife back inside behind him as he made his exit.

  He was soaking wet when he stepped onto the dock, but his mission was complete. At this point, the boat still looked normal from the exterior and it was hard to tell anything was wrong, other than that it was perhaps a little lower in the water. Daniel knew the schooner had a massive load capacity because he’d heard Eric and Bart discussing it, so he figured that was why it was still floating as high as it was. That would change soon enough though, as the four spigots he’d opened down there with the knife were running incessantly. Daniel glanced furtively down the bayou and out towards the road beyond the driveway to make sure there were still no witnesses. He had no intention of hanging around, but he wanted to make sure the job was done before he left. He carried the rifle and his other stuff over to Greg’s patrol truck in two trips and then walked back to the dock to watch the demise of Dreamtime. There was no stopping what was happening at this point, he saw with satisfaction. The entire cockpit was awash now, and she was listing to one side, straining against her dock lines that had grown taut as the slack was taken up the lower she sank.

  Daniel wished now he could have thought of a way to make the whole thing look like an accident or the work of someone else, and for a moment, he considered that he might still claim ignorance of what happened. What if he stayed and told Eric and the others that he’d gone for a walk along the road, and when he came back, this was what he found? Would they believe him if he tried to convince them some stranger came along and did this? It was a brief thought to entertain, but Daniel decided it wasn’t worth the risk. Eric Branson was going to be absolutely enraged when he discovered this. He would be ready to kill whoever did it, and Daniel had already made it clear that he didn’t agree with the proposed voyage and that he didn’t want his son and wife going. Eric would blame him no matter what, even if Daniel hadn’t done it. No, he couldn’t stick around to see what would happen. Daniel had to get out of there, and he had to do it now!

  He knew that leaving with no explanation was an admission of guilt, and that as soon as they saw that he’d stolen Greg’s truck, they would know for sure he did this deliberately. Shauna would hate him for it at first, and Andrew would be deeply disappointed and extremely upset, if he didn’t hate him too. Daniel didn’t want to think about that though, and he kept telling himself that what he’d done, he’d done for the boy’s own good. By stopping Eric’s crazy scheme to sail away to some island or other country far away, Daniel was in fact keeping his family together. They would end up at the refugee center where he planned to go now, and in fact when he got there, he intended to report their presence at the hidden lake to the proper authorities so that when they moved into the area, they would know where to look for them. He would be reunited with Andrew again in Texas soon; Daniel was sure of it.

  There would be confusion and anger in the meantime, but that was out of Daniel’s hands now. Shauna and the rest of them had made their choice and refused to listen, so Daniel had made his. It was time to get going, as much as he would have liked to stay and watch until the schooner settled to the bottom. He knew he needed a good head start though, and as he walked past the Jeep Cherokee, he figured he’d better do something to disable it too, in case they tried to come after him on the road. He didn’t like the idea of making so much noise, but the rifle was the easiest way to do the job. Daniel loaded a round into the chamber the way Bart had taught him and brought it to his shoulder. He aimed first at the driver’s side front tire and after missing it and hitting the rim instead with the first shot, he succeeded in flattening it with the next two rounds and then he took out the rear for good measure. Knowing that would slow them down considerably, Daniel got into Greg’s truck and drove away. With any luck at all, he’d reach the Texas state line before they even discovered what happened here.

  Seventeen

  IT WAS LATE AFTERNOON when Keith steered his patrol boat out of the dead lake to head back up to the bayou. Eric and Jonathan were riding back with him, while Greg had agreed to remain aboard the Miss Anita with Bart and the women to help with security. Eric figured he could use Jonathan’s help on the schooner with all the work remaining to get her ready. The kid was eager to pitch in and was a hard worker, so it was a no-brainer to bring him along. And while he didn’t like being away from Shauna and Megan overnight or even like the idea of splitting up the group at all again so soon after getting them all together here, it really couldn’t be helped. He promised them it would only be a couple of days though, and he intended to hit the remaining work hard and get it done quickly, even if it meant working into the night.

  When Keith turned off the river and into the bayou leading to his property, the thought of having Daniel there in the way and having to listen to his bitching made him wish he’d forced the man to go with the rest of them on the trawler. But he knew that was selfish of him, because then Shauna and Andrew would have to listen to it, and Eric knew that the boy, more than any of them, needed a break from that man. Besides, with his son and all the women gone, there would be no one for Daniel to hide behind or anyone to witness if Eric got fed up and slapped the shit out of him; something he was determined to do if Daniel gave him too much lip.

  But the sight that met their eyes when the three men rounded the last bend left them open-mouthed and speechless. Keith cut the throttle to idle and let the boat drift slowly towards it. The only parts of the schooner Dreamtime that were visible above the opaque brown water of the bayou were the two masts still lashed in the horizontal position high above the coach roof, and the top of the tan canvas Bimini cockpit shade. Everything else was submerged, the four white nylon dock lines stretched in straight lines from the pilings to unseen cleats below the surface to which they were still made fast.

  “Dude! What do you think happened?” Jonathan was standing on the narrow side rail of Keith’s boat, right behind Eric, who was all the way forward now, waiting to jump off to the dock as soon as Keith pulled close enough to it.

  “DANIEL!” Eric shouted, repeating it several times, but getting no answer as they waited.

  “Do you think he’s still in there?” Jonathan said, as he followed Eric from the patrol boat to the dock and then into the ankle-deep water below which they could now see the top of the coach roof.

  “If he is, he’s not going to be complaining anymore,” Eric said.

  “What do you think happened? How could Dreamtime just sink like this in a perfectly still bayou?”

  “Hey Eric,” Keith interrupted. While Eric and Jonathan were focused on the schooner, Keith had stepped ashore to look around the yard. “Greg’s truck is missing!”

  “Be careful, Jonathan. Don’t try to go down in there. I’ll be right back!”

  Eric climbed back onto the dock and rushed over to where Keith was now crouched beside the wheels of Lynn’s Jeep.

  “Both tires on this side are shot out!”

  “Son of a bitch!” Eric said. “That son of a bitch must have done this and taken off! I didn’t think he had it in him, but I guess I was wrong!”

  “We can’t be sure it wasn’t someone else until we know his body isn’t in there, Eric. I’m not saying he wouldn’t do it, but we need to know.”

  “I’ll check,” Eric said. “But the way he was acting, I should have known better. I shouldn’t have left him here alone for that long.”

  Jonathan wanted to help search, but Eric told him no, it was far too dangerous. Even though the schooner was only sub
merged in a few feet of water, diving in there would mean going in blind, with zero visibility in the murk and the possibility of getting hung up on any number of things inside the confines of the cabin. Eric would be searching by feel, and he would be doing it on the air he could hold in his lungs with no chance of help if he somehow got stuck. But he’d done this kind of thing before, often in situations that posed even more risk. He didn’t expect to find a body in there, but he did want to know how Daniel did it and determine what it was going to take to re-float his ship. And the only way to do that was to make a thorough inspection, even if touch was the only one of his five senses he could put to use in there.

  Eric stripped down and waded in until he was standing on the companionway steps with his head just above water. Then, he took a deep breath and dropped below to the main salon. Feeling around in the dark he pushed away the foam bunk cushions, and other objects floating within and methodically felt along the bunks and all the other spaces big enough to contain a body, on the off-chance Daniel was inside. It took him three separate dives to be sure, and each time he came up for air he shook his head to let Jonathan and Keith know he’d come up empty. Daniel wasn’t aboard, and Eric was now one hundred percent certain that he was the one who’d done this. The next step was to find out how. The thru hulls were the logical place to look and when Eric felt around under the galley sink, the neat cut that had parted the hose there was obvious, whether he could see it or not. He found the one in the engine compartment next, and then on a separate dive, the two in the head. But the discovery that really set him off was the missing floorboards that could only be removed with a screwdriver. The pouch of gold coins he’d stashed in there was gone, and though he felt carefully in every nook and cranny he could reach in the bilge, Eric couldn’t find it. Daniel had cleaned him out before he sank his ship, and if not for the other coins Don Carlos had given him that were still with his gear, Eric would have nothing left with which to trade.