Crossroads of the apocal.., p.8
Crossroads of the Apocalypse, page 8
Andy reemerged from below deck and took up a position next to Dalton on the bow. He rested his rifle on the rail for support and started shooting.
A large part of the river exploded beside them. The boat rocked and several buckets worth of the Mississippi rained down on their heads. Andy lost his footing and slid toward the water. Dalton made a grab for the older man’s hand and pulled him back from the edge.
A second explosion created a wave in front them that launched the Boomer into the air. It landed with a crack against the hull that sent Connor tumbling into the cabin below.
The young man hit the floor and winced against the sudden pain. Then he winced against the sudden licking.
Fidget was trying to talk and lick at the same time. He was freaking out and very little of what he was saying made sense.
Connor sat back on his legs and tried to fend off the beagle’s tongue.
“Are you okay?” Laura asked, and began to help him to his feet.
“I’m fine,” Connor said shortly, before another blast shook the boat and sent him crashing into a stack of Laura’s luggage.
The trunk cracked open and spilled its contents to the floor. Several rifles clattered onto the thin carpeting.
“Well, shit,” Laura said and started picking up the weapons.
Connor watched the older woman as she started putting things back in the box.
“Would you mind helping me, dear?” Laura asked.
“Uh, yeah, I guess,” he said as he started to pick up the weapons.
“And of course, if you mention this to anyone on board I’ll kill you. You know that, don’t you dear?”
“Uh…”
“Of course you do,” she said as she patted his cheek. “So we’ll just keep this between us.”
“The blue one!” Eve shouted in Jerry’s ear.
The blue runabout swerved in the river and presented enough of its deck for Jerry to see the pirate struggling to reload the RPG. He cut the wheel and sped toward the boat.
“What the hell are you doing?” Caine said. “You’re supposed to drive away from explosions, you idiot!”
The pirate boat turned toward them, and the two vessels charged toward one another.
The pirate with the rocket launcher stumbled into the front of the boat and leveled the RPG at the Boomer.
Eve leaned out the cabin window and fired several shots. It was impossible to tell if they struck their target, but there was no doubt they forced the pirate to lose his balance.
The rocket left a trail of smoke as it went left instead of straight as intended. The shell struck a second pirate speedboat broadside, and the fiberglass hull exploded.
The Boomer closed on the blue speedboat and Jerry held a liquor bottle out toward Eve. “Would you like some?”
Eve stared at the bottle oddly for a moment until she saw the rag sticking out of the top. “Well, okay,” she said, and took the bottle in her hand. “But just one.”
Jerry lit the rag and Eve stepped out onto the side of the boat. She hurled the Molotov into the blue speedboat as it passed. The fire spread quickly as the Boomer cut left and made its way back to the stranded craft.
Jerry cut the wheel and pulled back on the throttle to pull the boat alongside the couple in the dead Glastron. Andy and Caine reached out and pulled the boat close enough for the passengers to come aboard.
There was a couple on the boat, and the woman was hunched over the man’s lifeless body. Her wailing made it hard for them to get her attention, and when they did finally get through to her, the look in her eyes was beyond grief and despair.
Eve leapt into the boat and helped the young woman to her feet. She was barely able to respond to any of the commands Eve gave her, but she eventually made her way into the Boomer.
Jerry pushed the throttles to their stops and raced back downriver.
Ahead of them, Mason’s fleet was engaged with the rest of the pirates. Gunfire spit from the upper deck of a three-story houseboat as the pirates tried to board the slow vessel.
The escort ship threw wake around the river as it shot back and forth between encounters, doing its best to repel the boarders. The security contingent was inflicting a fair number of casualties on the pirate forces until they took an RPG in the hull.
The patrol boat exploded and sent the armed men flying into the river. Judging from the lack of screams, not many were alive when they hit the water.
The pirates quickly turned their full attention to the houseboat.
Jerry turned and headed toward them.
“No!” Dalton screamed. “We saved the girl. Isn’t that enough?”
“They’ve lost their escort!”
“So? He made it very clear that they wouldn’t help us!”
“There could be two dozen people on that boat,” Eve shouted back.
“Yeah, and a dozen of them are probably pirates!” Caine argued. “Get us out of here!”
Jerry stepped back from the wheel and tapped Eve on the shoulder. “Take the wheel.”
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“Shakespeare’s right, they’ve already been boarded. I need you to swing me by the houseboat and then take the passengers downriver to Elsah.”
“What? No, you’re the captain.”
“Please take the wheel. I’ve got to try and help them.”
“That’s what I do,” she said. “You drive the boat.”
“I’ll drive the boat!” Caine shouted as he stepped in between them and put a hand on the wheel. “That way, at least someone is taking us where we need to be.”
“Can you drive a boat?” Jerry asked.
Thomas Caine took a deep breath and passed a hand in front of his face. The worry in his expression was replaced with a slight droop in the right side of his face and he spoke in what sounded like a horrible Bogart impression. “Nobody in Africa, but yours truly, can get a good head of steam on the African Queen.”
“What the hell does that mean?” Eve asked.
“It means he’s crazy, but he’s driving.” Jerry relinquished the wheel to the actor and pointed over the bow. “Elsah is just downstream on your left. Once we’re off, hit the throttles and get there as fast as you can. Wait for us there.”
He pulled the knife from its place beside the pilot’s seat and dropped it into a sheath on his belt. He grabbed a shotgun from the duffel bag and loaded it with shells before handing it over to Eve.
“Are you ready?” he asked Eve.
“After you.”
“Come on, Blue.” Jerry called to the dog. “Bad guys.”
The giant mastiff leapt to his side.
“Satch!” Eve shouted and the Great Dane obediently came to heel. The gray dog was the size of a small horse and made the mastiff look almost normal in comparison.
Fidget came bounding up the stairs. The beagle took up a place beneath Sasquatch’s paws and growled. “I’m ready!”
“Let’s go while the going is good,” Bogey shouted from behind the wheel.
Eve leaned in closer to Jerry. “Does any of that seem normal to you?”
“You have a talking dog,” Jerry said calmly. “Either everything is normal now or nothing is.”
“Fair enough.”
Caine made the sound of screeching tires as he pulled the Boomer impossibly close alongside the houseboat and barked, “Go! Go! Go!”
Eve and Fidget leapt the short distance between the vessels while Sasquatch simply stepped across the gap. Jerry and Chewy followed. His foot had barely left the boat when the engines throttled up and the Boomer sped downriver.
8
When shopping for a boat in the apocalypse, the sky is pretty much the limit. If it floats and there isn’t some kind of mutant or cult living in it, it’s yours. Price is of little concern. Even though commerce was returning, old world stuff was still pretty much up for grabs.
With the return of river travel came the return of fuel depots. Several towns saw opportunity in refining fuel for those depots, and a skipper of all but the largest vessels could now refuel as needed all along the river.
Boat choices were mostly limited by the size of crew you wanted to carry. Many skippers still preferred smaller boats for their speed and ease of operation with minimal manpower. Others went the other route.
This houseboat was massive. It was at least sixty feet in length and three stories tall. Before the end of the world, it would sleep 30 for a week on the lake. Now it would hold as many armed men as you could fit and take you anywhere you were willing to pay for passage to.
Jerry, Eve and the dogs had leapt onto the rear deck of the boat and taken up positions next to the sliding door leading into the lower cabin. The bottom floor had been designed as a living area and kitchen, and had already been cleared out by the boarding party. Several bodies were scattered around the floor, and a couple of the pirates were already starting the looting process.
Jerry drew a .40 automatic with his right hand and ensured that the extra magazines in his belt were unobstructed. Eve pulled the short-barreled shotgun to her shoulder and nodded. They rushed in together and opened fire before the pirates knew they were there.
The scene was not pretty. The boat’s kitchen had once been luxurious. In fact, the entire interior had been an exercise to see how ridiculous one could make a boat and still get it to float.
Every level was the ultimate in comfort. The stairs from the lower level curved to the second story, where a balcony overlooked the full-sized kitchen. Every surface had been covered in a thin veneer of walnut or granite. But after years of neglect in a world without lemon Pledge, it was all looking pretty rough. Veneer and laminate had splintered either during the gunfight or out of years of boredom and turned the once luxurious kitchen into a total, bloody disaster.
Their own bullets didn’t help.
The gunfight was quick and loud, and it drew another pirate in from the front deck of the ship. The dogs were more than happy to run the pirate off the edge of the boat into the river.
Eve praised the Great Dane and the beagle. “Good boys.”
The mastiff turned her eyes to Jerry as if she knew the Great Dane was getting all the credit.
“What?”
The dog barked.
“Fine. Good dog—”
The praise was interrupted by a string of bullets fired from the balcony above. What was left of the countertop exploded as Jerry dove behind it for cover. They each screamed for their dogs to take cover.
“Sasquatch!”
“Chewy!”
“Fidget!”
“This place is bigger than I expected,” Jerry shouted from behind the kitchen island.
Eve was slow to answer. She had taken cover behind the fridge and stared at him. Eventually she voiced her agreement. “I know. Did you see that curved stairway?” She pointed the barrel of the gun in the general direction of the stairway.
He nodded. “Fancy.”
“You want the guy on the balcony?” Eve asked as a bullet glanced off the fridge.
Jerry shook his head. “Nah. You take him. I’ll set him up for you though.” Jerry slid a full magazine into the pistol and took a deep breath. He screamed, “Avast ye matey!” and leaned quickly around the corner of the island. He ducked back as several bullets absolutely wrecked the faux wood finish of the pantry and turned a 10-year-old box of Fruit Loops to dust. You never forgot the smell of Fruit Loops.
Eve stepped out from the behind the fridge and raised the shotgun. The pirate’s ribs turned to powder like a 10-year-old box of Fruit Loops. She racked another shell into the shotgun and kept the barrel pointed upstairs.
“‘Avast ye?’ I didn’t know you spoke pirate.”
“Buccaneer, actually,” Jerry said as he stood and brushed off the Fruit Loop dust. “But they share a lot of the same roots so you can kind of piece it all together.”
The pair made their way up the curved staircase to the second floor. At the far end of the houseboat, the crew had two more boarders pinned down at the bottom of the staircase that led to the upper level.
The pirates looked crazed and angry and fairly confident that a whole bunch of their friends had their backs on the first floor.
“Can I try this one?” Eve whispered.
Jerry gestured his approval.
Eve smiled and shouted, “Yo ho, me hearties!”
The pirates spun and looked surprised that someone was speaking their language. They were twice as surprised when they were greeted by several bullets and a couple rounds of shot. They slumped to the ground and bled all over the once-nice carpeting.
Jerry offered Eve a quiet round of applause. “Your accent is flawless.”
“Well, my parents spoke privateer at the house, so...” Eve reloaded the shotgun as Jerry stepped to the bottom of the staircase.
He leaned out with some hesitation. “Hey, up there.”
The return fire sent him backpedaling into a rather restful-looking position on one of the couches in the second story lounge.
“Stop shooting!” Jerry shouted back when the fire had stopped. “We’re not pirates!”
The answer was swift and expected. “That sounds just like something a pirate would say!”
“They’re right.” Eve helped him to his feet. “That does sound just like something a pirate would say.”
“Well, what wouldn’t a pirate say?” Jerry yelled back up the stairs.
“A pirate would say anything if it meant getting up here, and you’re not getting up here, you pirate son of a bitch.” More bullets followed, but Jerry had enough sense to clear the line of fire this time.
“That really puts me in a pickle, friend.”
There were more gunshots followed by a fair amount of swearing and promises that, no matter who he was, he was certainly not their friend.
“What if I told you I had two eyes, two legs and almost zero scurvy?”
The only response was more gunfire.
“I prefer whiskey to rum?”
More gunfire.
“What if I said I hated parrots?” Jerry called up the stairs.
Gunshots.
“You don’t really hate parrots?” Eve asked.
“I mean. It’s not hate. I’m just weirded out by how they talk. It’s not right.”
“Well, they’re mimics.”
“Well, that’s just it, isn’t it? Little bastards are just copying everybody, but they still try to take all the credit.”
“Are you going to talk them into letting us up there or not?”
“I don’t think it’s happening. They really seemed to take the parrot thing personally.”
Eve shouted up the stairway. “We’re from the Boomer. I’m here with Captain Mike.”
There was no gunfire.
“Do you think that worked?” Eve whispered.
“I’d be more surprised than you,” Jerry whispered back.
“What have you got against parrots, Mike?” It was a new voice and one that Jerry recognized.
“Dale? Dammit, Dale, tell your men to stop shooting at us. We’re coming up.”
He gave it a moment for the order to settle in before he moved up the stairs.
Dale’s name wasn’t Dale at all. But his face was all cheeks, and he bore enough of a resemblance to a chipmunk that it was inevitable he would be called either Chip or Dale at some point in his life. And since this chipmunk also drank like a fish, he drew the red-nosed Rescue Ranger’s name over the former.
Dale shook Jerry’s hand as he reached the top of the stairs. “Thanks for the help, Mike. Sorry about the shooting.”
“Forget it. Where do you need us?”
“I could use someone downstairs to keep those bastards off my ship until we reach the guns.”
“We’ve got the downstairs covered,” Eve said as she stepped onto the upper deck.
“Boarders!” one of the men along the upper rail called out.
His call was followed by fierce barking that rose up from the decks below. Several screams and loud splashes followed.
“Never mind,” the lookout said, and went back to firing at the other pirate boats.
“Grab a rifle and keep them back,” Dale said, and turned his attention back to the river.
The view from atop the houseboat was not encouraging. Men still lined the rails of the houseboat, but many others lay about the deck bleeding all over it. And too many of those that were left on the rail had one hand on a rifle and another on a wound to slow the bleeding.
Jerry stooped to pick up a rifle and took up a position at the rear of the boat. Eve crouched next to him.
“You look like you do this a lot,” Eve said.
Jerry stood, fired twice and dropped back behind the steel plate. “Not really. They don’t usually attack larger groups like this. It’s pretty brazen. Even for them.”
“I didn’t specifically mean pirates. You could have left these men and women to their fate.”
“Dale’s a friend of mine.”
“You didn’t know he was on board.”
“You’re here, too.”
“This is what I do,” Eve said with a smile, and took a shot over the rail. The bullet struck a jet ski pilot in the face.
“And why is that?” He popped up and took out a pirate behind the wheel of a speedboat.
She hesitated. “Because the people that are supposed to help, won’t.” She fired again and a pirate hit the river with a splash. She crouched back down. “You know, I don’t usually bother answering that question.”
“So why did you?” Jerry asked.
“I have a feeling you understand the answer. Most people would have left these people behind. Most people did leave these people behind. And the woman in the boat. But not you.”
“It’s purely selfish, I assure you. I like a civilized world and we’re close. We’re so close to making things normal again. Pirates aren’t normal. Things are just starting to get good again. I want a normal world. So I’m here for me. Purely selfish.”
An explosion rocked the houseboat and sent a cascade of water splashing across the upper deck.
