• Home
  • A J Newman
  • Adventures in the Apocalypse: Post-Apocalyptic America: After The Flare Page 6

Adventures in the Apocalypse: Post-Apocalyptic America: After The Flare Read online

Page 6


  “Hey McDill, we have Nuns aboard. Could you tame the foul language a tiny bit before we get there,” Meg asked?

  “Ya’ ‘fockin’ A. I’ll try to talk like a ‘reglar’ human being.”

  Mary saw them round the corner of the house with Meg pointing at her and the boat. She lowered the SAW’s barrel and waved for them to approach.

  “Sisters, Mary, this is McDill and Maud. They are friends from way back in our younger days. We were much better looking and could hold our liquor back then.”

  Maud replied, “I still hold my liquor. I just get piss drunk and stagger a bit. Pardon my French Sisters.”

  The vulgar words flew right over Sister Nan’s head, but Mary and Sister Angela blushed and knew this was a rough but very friendly bunch of people.

  “My friends have fought and ran off the pirates that took over this community right after TSHTF. They are heroes and stayed to protect this part of the Caymans. They live in the mansion a block over to the south. We will stay here, and they will help us get our sails repaired or replaced.”

  They all shook hands and got to know each other as the people hiding in their houses came out to join in welcoming their new friends.

  They only stayed at the Grand Cayman Island long enough to repair the sails, replenish their diesel, food, and water and rest a bit before heading south again. They traded one of their SAWs for the food and were on their way again to South America. The most valuable thing they obtained from their friends was information on the pirate activity in the Caribbean. McDill had learned from several captured pirates that the entire area below Haiti and the chain of islands south to South America and back up the coast through Venezuela was the pirate territory. The Colombian Cartels kept the pirates away from the Colombian and Panamanian coasts. That is except for the few that worked for them.

  They headed west until they were about 70 miles off the Guatemalan coast and then headed south hugging the mainland. There were some islands due south of their position according to Brett’s maps. He saw the islands to his south and kept their distance from their shores as the sun was setting.

  It was only a short time later when one of the boys spotted the fast approaching boats. It was dusk so the boats were barely visible due to their bow lights.

  “Mr. Starnes! Boats are coming at us!”

  Mary looked in the direction the boy pointed and saw nothing, but ocean. She raised her field glasses and saw two small boats approaching at a rapid pace. Bret lowered his binoculars and said, “They are RIBs, and they are going to catch up to us in a few minutes. Everyone to their battle stations.”

  “What is a RIB?”

  “Rigid inflatable boat. These have large outboard engines, and I think I see the lead one has a machine gun mounted on the bow. Meg, go below and get your Barrett .50 Cal. Try to kill the lead boat before it gets in range with that machine gun.”

  Meg scurried down below and came back with the same large rifle that Mary had seen Matt use at their home in Wyoming. Meg steadied it on the stern and searched for the RIBs in her scope. She found them and after what seemed an eternity fired her first shot. The blast from the muzzle was tremendous, and Mary watched the RIBS, but nothing happened. Meg repeated this several times to no avail.

  “I can’t keep a bead on the damn thing with the boat moving up and down.”

  Brett replied, “Meg, anticipate the up and down and fire at the bottom. Mary, I want you and me to start firing the Saws at them when I yell. Aim several feet below them because I’m going to let them run into our bullets.”

  The RIBs were about 1,500 yards away when one of them exploded.

  “Great shooting old girl!”

  “Bullshit. I was aiming at the one in front.”

  “Mary, get ready. That .30 Cal. on the lead boat will open up on us in a minute. Shoot a short burst and watch the tracers. Burst on target. Now!”

  Both of the SAWs fired a short burst and Mary saw the red stream of dots hit the water in front of the fast approaching boats. The lead boat fired but was also firing wildly due to their boat’s pitching in the water as they sped towards the sailboat. Suddenly the enemy struck the boat with a stream of bullets as they swept the ocean with gunfire.

  Mary waited a few seconds and fired again in short bursts as she walked the tracer stream on to the lead boat. The boat veered quickly to the right, flipped over and died in the water. Now, Mary, Meg, and Brett could concentrate on the third boat. They all fired bullet after bullet into the speeding boat. It exploded in a mushroom of red flames and black smoke lighting up the twilight lit sky.

  ***

  Emma saw the tracers streaming across the sky several miles west of the boat and said, “Patty, fireworks.”

  She watched the western sky, saw the tracers arcing across the ocean just to the right of the setting sun and said, “There is a battle going on over there. I hope the good guys win.”

  “Let’s go help them.”

  “No little one. I have to protect you. They have to fend for themselves. Say a prayer for them. Now it’s bedtime, and we have another long day tomorrow.”

  Patty raised the main sail and moved quickly away from the area. She didn’t want to find out who won and her job, for now, was to protect the kids and find Mary and Matt along the way.

  She was only a few miles from Brett’s boat when she raised the sail and moved on further south. She headed on to Guatemala the next morning and Puerto Barrios. The trip was uneventful, and they landed at a spot east of the city and walked into town so her boat would remain safe.

  The city was better off than most but had seen riots and food shortages. The population was down by 70 percent, but the survivors banded together and had run criminals and problem people out of town.

  She walked the kids about a mile southwest and had to cross the airport to get into the city. An old truck drove up to them as they crossed the runway and a man got out and challenged them. He spoke in Spanish, and she only understood a few words. One was about her shotgun and pistol.

  Emma spoke to the man in Spanish and told him that the white lady had saved them and was trying to take them to their grandparents. He got a big smile and asked for her grandparent’s names. She replied, he scratched his head and beckoned them to follow him to the truck.

  “The guard told me that they would take us to the city office and someone there would know our grandparents.”

  “Okay, let’s go.”

  “He wants your guns. They don’t allow guns in the city. He promises to give them back when you leave.”

  She handed her pistol and shotgun over to the guard but kept her .380 and her knife in her boots.

  They drove into town and as promised, the mayor asked one of his clerks to search for their relatives. A short while later, two women and a man appeared at the building and introduced themselves to Patty and the children.

  They were the kid’s grandmother, aunt, and uncle and they had many questions about their daughter and her worthless husband. Patty filled them in the best she could and told them the husband would never bother them again.

  Patty left them to their reunion and quietly slipped back to her boat, not wanting to find out what the guards had in store for her. She didn’t want to risk losing her home and only transportation.

  She set sail for South America alone and in fear because she had to be on guard 24 hours a day now. She sailed all day and slept as much as possible at night with her guns ready.

  ***

  “Mary, take the boys and check the boat out to see if there is any damage. Meg and I will stay on guard.”

  “Bobby, Billy, come here.”

  Bobby ran to her, but Billy didn’t answer.

  “Bobby, check below while I look at the stern.”

  Mary rounded the cabin and saw Billy slumped over the side of the boat with several bullet wounds. Blood flowed on the deck at her feet. She picked Billy up off the railing and pulled his body to where Brett and Meg were watching guard.

&
nbsp; Before she could lower his body, Bobby ran up the steps from down below yelling, “Sister Nan and one of the kids are dead. Little Brenda is wounded.”

  They took turns manning the helm and sailed all night to make sure they were far away from the scene of the attack at daylight.

  The next morning they wrapped the bodies and some weights in cloth, said prayers and buried them at sea by lowering them into the ocean. Everyone cried but knew they had to move on or die.

  They had no more difficulties and reached the Colombian coast eight days later. Brett sailed down the coast towards Panama and found his target, Arboletes. It was a small city on the coast and much safer than the larger cities which were all controlled by the Cartels.

  “I don’t feel good about leaving you here, but it’s as safe as possible for Colombia. Go to the Catholic Mission; you should find shelter and perhaps help and safe passage to Quito. Take this gold and jewels to pay for your passage. Good luck.”

  Mary and Sister Angela watched as the sailboat disappeared over the horizon.

  ***

  The priest droned on about the city and this church, “Arboletes was founded in 1920 by José Torres Vargas y José María Reales, and we are in Antioquia Department, Colombia. Arboletes means "land of trees"; however, most all of the trees had been cut down long ago to promote cattle ranching. The church and orphanage were built in the late 1930’s to accommodate the ever-growing Catholic population.”

  Sister Angela asked, “Do you know anything about the orphanage in Quito?”

  “Which one?”

  “The Catholic one of course.”

  Mary was tired of the conversation and just wanted to find shelter for the night and obtain information on any local dangers. She listened patiently for a while longer.

  “Oh, it’s on the south side of Quito and has a monastery and two priests. It was quite large in its day. They had over 200 children there in the 70’s. I’m not sure how many are there now.”

  “Our sister orphanage from Texas, in the states, left the USA and was heading there. We want to join them. How would we get there from here?”

  “Oh, my. It’s a little over 600 miles as the crow flies and closer to 700 if you drive. That is if you had a bus or car. There are only a few running these days and no scheduled flights or boats. You would have to hire someone to take you there by horseback or if you were lucky by one of the few trucks that are still running.”

  “Oh dear. That sounds like an opportunity. I will pray on that for a while.”

  Mary blurted out, “Father, what can you tell us about the town? What dangers exist, are there bad people or anyone who might want to harm our children or us are you aware of since the world fell apart?

  “Arboletes was a sleepy little town with no issues at all before the lights went out. That is as long as you minded your business and didn’t cause trouble for any of the drug cartels or Gentleman Jack, a local pirate. Oh, we had some petty crime, a few drug addicts and a murder or two once in a while, but the serious crimes were committed by people who knew each other. Men catching other men in their houses if you get my meaning, that sort of violence.”

  “So it’s safe in town now.”

  “Yes and no. We lost half the people in town when the riots started. A few months’ later people from the north filtered into town. Most were good people; however, there is a group from Mexico that is made up of mercenaries. They operate as pirates in the Gulf of Mexico and Caribbean. A Brit they call Gentleman Jack is the ringleader. They run the town. They killed the mayor, the city council, and most of the police.”

  “Oh shit. Oops, pardon my French.”

  “That’s okay my friend. There has been a lot of French spoken here since the gang took over. They also take whatever they want, and they like young girls. We will disguise you as a nun until you get ready to take the children to Ecuador. We have a habit that should fit you and Sister Angela can show you how to wear the items that make up the habit. They haven’t bothered any of our Nuns, so far.”

  “Thanks, Father.”

  “Sister Catherine will show you to your quarters. The children will sleep in the assembly room on cots. One of our Sisters will watch over them so you two can get some much-needed rest.”

  They were led to a small room with two cots, and Sister Catherine told them she was sorry, but they would have to share the room.

  After the Nun had left, Sister Angela said, “You won’t be able to carry that rifle, but the frock can cover up your belt and pistol. I hate it, but my angel should be prepared to smite the devil at all times these days.”

  “I would feel naked without a gun these days. I had hoped we would be safe here. I’m ashamed, but I hoped you would want to stay here at this orphanage.”

  “I’m sorry Mary, but I feel we need to join the rest of our flock in Quito. Help us find transportation and then you can go find your friends.”

  “How do we go about finding safe transportation?”

  “I think Father John knows who we can trust. I’ll ask him to put out feelers with those that are trustworthy from the parishioners. Until then, let’s make you look like a Nun and work on acting like a Nun.”

  “The first is easy; the last may be difficult.”

  “No drinking or cursing.”

  “Real tough.”

  ***

  “Sir, this fisherman saw something interesting today. Tell the boss what you saw.”

  “A big sailboat anchored a thousand meters off the coast and sent a motor boat ashore full of children and two women. One was a nun. It took three trips; then the sailboat left heading southeast.”

  “Why do I give two shits about Nuns and kids?”

  “You said you would give a reward for any information about people coming to our village. The sailboat was a real nice one, and one of the women had an assault rifle and a pistol in her belt.”

  “Manny, give him a small reward for small information and tell our source inside the church to see what they know about the Nuns and children.”

  Manny was the Operations Manager for Blue Seas Holding and Trading Company, which was the front business for Jack’s piracy operation. Jack was the leader and never got his hands dirty anymore. He had Manny and four Team Leaders who reported to Manny. Three of the men pirated ships and the fourth captained his trading vessel that delivered the stolen goods to the highest bidder.

  “Manny, I want that sailboat. Have Lucius commandeer it for me and eliminate the crew if they give him any trouble. Tell him he can keep whatever cargo he finds if the boat is undamaged.”

  ***

  Father John quietly asked several of his most trusted parishioners to help him find safe transportation for two nuns and the children. Most had no idea how to find out without tipping off Gentleman Jack’s organization. Two of the men told him that they knew someone who knew how to arrange the trip; however, both said that it would cost dearly. The Father asked them to get a discount for God’s work.

  ✼

  Chapter 7

  Pirates

  130 miles southeast of the Grand Cayman Island

  The vessel was an old Panamanian salvage ship that had seen better days; however, the engines and all operational equipment had been rebuilt. The Captain and owner, Jackson Brown, was an ex-British mercenary who had been leading a small army paid for by a Colombian drug lord to stop his competition at sea and capture the valuable cargo. The drug trade died off when TSHTF and he decided to commandeer the ship and use his team to force ships to pay a fee to use his ocean. The fee usually was everything they had plus their ship. The booty and ships were sold on the flourishing black market.

  Thanks to the drug lord, he had a 40-man army, a dozen high-speed gunboats, twenty RIBs with machine guns, small arms, and ammo. He was surprised at the number of ships, sailboats, and small vessels that were still plowing the ocean after The Flare. None had the fancy electronic GPS, radar or other electronics and had to use their old compasses, sextants, and such to navigate
.

  Most of the vessels quickly heaved to and complied with the demand for food, gold, or women. Some of the small, fast boats tried to outrun his boats, but to their sorrow, they couldn’t outrun his machine guns. Any boat that didn’t comply was robbed of all valuables, and every man was put to death and the women and children were put ashore at the closest land. He let a few escape just to spread the word not to fuck with Gentleman Jack, the pirate.

  “Manny, have you found a buyer for the bloody cargo from that French cargo ship?”

  “Yes sir, the Columbian Maracaibo Cartel is trading us gold, guns, and coffee and I have buyers in Brazil lined up for the coffee and buyers in Nicaragua for the guns.”

  “Make damn sure we don’t attack any Israeli, American, or British ships. I don’t need them pissing in our sandbox. Avoid the Russians if you see any. They probably will be too busy over in India and Africa now, but will rear their ugly heads over here eventually.”

  “I heard you loud and clear. Now have you decided to trade in women?”

  “Manny, by any modern standards we are thieves, crook, and pirates, but I’ll be damned if I will ever sell a woman into the sex slave business.”

  “He thought, Oh shit and replied, “Sir you do know that the crew…err…samples some of the women slaves we free from the slave ships.”

  “That’s different. It’s the price they pay for our men to set them free. The men should never hurt them and always set them free. Don’t they?”

  Manny looked down at his feet.

  “Well…?

  “Yes sir and I will follow up to make sure that is happening.”

  Two days later Manny called Jack to say, “Sir, we have a ship shadowing a Russian-flagged freighter that is loaded with containers. May I have permission to seize her?”