SURVIVING ABE: A Climate-Fiction Novel (35 page)

Midnight found Robin nearing Chesapeake City, along the C & D Canal, with Tess at the helm.  When Eric joined her in the cockpit she said, "The front will be over us before long, till now we've been protected from the wind due to being in the cut of the canal.  When we exit into the Delaware River it is very open, and the wind will be stronger.  It could get very rough, you ready for that?"

"Of course!"

"Okay.  For what's left of tonight you can sleep any place you want below.  That'll change if we go to sea."

"How will it change?"

"At sea we'll sleep on the downhill side of the salon, but that changes every time we change tack."

"Probably need to let the sleeping crew know when a tack is about to happen?"

"Of course.  A person will know either way, but it's less painful if they're warned, rather than thrown out of bed.  At sea being able to sleep in short stretches, and still get enough rest to maintain effectiveness, is a learned skill.  It's very important to try to rest when not on watch; we'll both need to work at it."

"Like now?  I should be trying to rest instead of being up here in the cockpit visiting with you?"

"Correct.  Try to sleep, I'll call you if I need to."

"Good night,
Tess, even though it's morning."

~~~

Tess turned to starboard on exiting the C & D Canal into the Delaware River, pointing Robin's bow at the Atlantic Ocean.  High tide had just passed.  The ebb, giving them a lift in speed over the ground, coupled with the WSW wind, giving them a close-hauled point of sail, suggested a fast passage.  The only problem she anticipated came from the nearly opposing wind and tide conditions.  That setup tended to make waves pile up and bow spray fly.  She expected a rough, wet ride with Robin's bow crashing into the waves, sending spray back to the cockpit, once the southward flow of the ebb tide gained momentum.

Thoughts of a boisterous sail reminded Tess to keep an eye on Eric, if he didn't get seasick today their chances of making a successful passage improved.  She would feel even better if he could maintain a course, handle the heavy shipping traffic they were sure to encounter in the confines of the ship lanes, as well as endure rough conditions without suffering seasickness.  As soon as he
woke up school would start.  They needed to go over how to observe the Navigational Rules of The Road; some on-the-job training would be required before she would let Eric steer on his own in a restricted ship channel for more than fifteen minutes at a time.

~~~

For Eric the day had passed quickly, most of it a blur.  From being at death's door yesterday morning, to losing his safe haven to hunker down and survive in, to hatching a plan to escape the developing police state across the U.S. by sailing away on a stormy night, these last thirty-eight hours were the most exciting of his life.  Interesting times, he thought, history will judge if they prove to be beneficial to mankind as planned, or not.

Below deck,
with orders to rest, his mind had refused anything to do with sleep.  Instead, he wondered what his best short-term course of action should be, to give him a chance for a long-term future.  With the cash, gold coins, and 3 terabytes of data on an external hard drive, he had resources to survive a modern world, but he wished he had more tools to survive a world without technology.  He would have packed seeds and a shovel if he could have foreseen how much chaos cyber attacks caused.

Being at sea for a couple of weeks might just be good luck.  If they made landfall three weeks after the initial event things might be stabilizing.  Once he got to someplace
safe, he could use the BGAN terminal to access news from the group and to make a plan based on the situation at that time.  Meanwhile, he needed to concentrate on learning everything about this sailboat.

So far Tess had proven to be a quiet, introspective woman.  When he asked her something she fully listened to his question before answering.  He detected no lingering animosity from her.  She seemed willing to teach him everything he needed to know to be able to sail the boat by hi
mself; which was his goal, in case something happened to her.

Reminding himself of her orders to sleep, he attempt
ed to rein in his thoughts, by concentrating on relaxing each muscle, starting with his toes and working up.

Tye woke to his internal alarm clock that went off every morning just in time for him to greet the sun.  He carefully rolled out of bed, trying not to wake Reb; she liked to give the sun a head start before beginning her day.

As Tye walked off the front porch and looked out over the farm, he noticed the l
ow-hanging ground fog looked like pink cotton candy in the first rays of the red-hued sunrise.  Feeling slight warmth to the air, from the rising sun on a cloudless morning, he knew the fog would burn off soon.

Bernie came out of his camp trailer and met Tye near the parked vehicles.  "What in the hell is that fireball to the east?" Bernie asked by way of a greeting.

"That's the sun, it looked the same back in the heat wave.  You forgot already?"

"No, but I've missed it a lot lately."

"It'll warm up this morning, then start raining again this afternoon, I bet.  I suspect we'd remember this cold fondly, if it weren't for the trouble that came with it.  Right now, I'm trying to figure out how to handle the beef from the two yearlings without any refrigeration and with temperatures climbing, any ideas?" Tye asked.

"In hot
humid weather, before electrical power was invented, a kill was cooked and eaten for the next few days until it was gone, or started to go bad.  Then it was recycled through the hogs and chickens.  There're probably other ways to preserve it, maybe canning, salting, or smoking, if the means and materials are available," Bernie said.

"Butcher-and-cook is the best plan two geniuses like us can come up with?"

"I'm out of practice remembering and figuring things out for myself, I'd Google it for you if I could."

"I'd rather
have a heated dehydrator, or my shop, to build one.  In the meanwhile, I'll get my shotgun and see if I can scare up some volunteers, so we can get this party going," Tye said.

~~~

Jennifer woke up hearing voices outside, she half-remembered hearing her father leaving the house earlier, so she decided the time had come to get up. As soon as she came fully awake, she remembered the events of the night before and lightly touched her cheek.  What had been a red mark last night, now felt like it had scabbed over during her sleep.

In the dimly lit bathroom she could see a long scab marring her cheek and neck, and the red marks on her neck were now black and blue
.  The full light of day would reveal the whole mess with more detail; she could hardly wait for that.  She wondered if she would have a scar when the scab fell off.  Of course, she could be looking into the face of her captor, instead of a mirror.  She chastised herself for wallowing in vanity and wasting time on what would be a busy day.

~~~

"Now who's the most colorful of all?" Andy asked, when she entered the kitchen to find him and her mother cooking breakfast.

"I'm just taking over where you left off.  Your bruises are all fading, not fresh and vibrant like mine."

"Good Morning, Jen.  Let me know when you two decide to start comparing scars, so I can leave the room," Reb said.

"Morning Mom, you're just worried I'll distract your sous-chef.  Speaking of distractions, here comes Dad walking like there's something important brewing in his belfry."

When Tye came into the kitchen it started all over again with comments on her appearance, which she took in stride.  Mercifully, Tye's comments were short-lived, since he had something he wanted to say that he couldn't hold back for long.  "The best plan I've heard, so far, this morning is to butcher and then cook all the meat today.  We'll divide it up among all the families and try to eat it before it goes bad.  I'm looking for volunteers before I organize the press gangs."

"We've already been getting busy in this kitchen," Reb said.  "What we can't eat we could use to fill up the canning jars I have on hand."

Bernie knocked and entered the kitchen.  "I talked to Ben and he suggested they take one beef and we take the other, as a way to divvy up the meat and the labor."

"That's reasonable,
we may be able to process and cook one beef today, if we started an hour ago.  I'm standing here ready to cook, so when you boys get done talking, bring me some beef," Reb said.

Ample evidence of the toll their three-hour watches had taken on each of them showed from the depth of forehead worry-line
s and lack of conversation.  Ela stood in her spot by the kitchen window watching the falling snow while Gus got the coffee pot filled and heating.

Sitting at the table, covertly watching the pot, Hank broke the silence, "It feels peculiar sitting here in their kitchen
, waiting on coffee, without Al and Beth.  I didn't know Beth well, but I considered Al a buddy.  It's his property that Con's car is parked on."

"I meant to ask you about them.  Before she died Beth told us Al's last words to her were som
ething about a decoy.  Later, Ela and I figured out what he meant and found the combination to the safe inside a duck decoy.  I fully intend on returning the guns we're using to his lawful heirs," Gus said.

"Afraid I can't help you there.  They never had children
, so I wouldn't know who is in line to inherit.  I got hints from Al over the years that he expected this place to take all his money; he had plans to become totally self-sufficient.  He paid the property off not long ago and intended the sale of the other parcel to finance upgrading this one."

"Hear that?" Ela
asked.

"Sounds like a helicopter to me, I've been dreaming of one coming to rescue me for a week,” Gus said and ran outside.

Hank and Ela followed.  All of them tried to find the aircraft through the low hanging snow clouds; their heads swiveled in all directions as the sound bounced off the canyon walls.  Ela’s hearing, sharper than the men's, cut through the echoes, and she pointed toward the source of the sound as it passed over them going up the canyon, toward the dude ranch.

"Sounds
like the cavalry is arriving for the wealthy.  The reception should prove interesting," said Gus.  Moments later they heard the first gunshots.  Both Gus and Hank expectantly watched as Ela stood with her eyes closed, turning her head slightly, her hands cupped behind her ears.

"The helicopter is coming
back toward us," she said.  Ela dropped her hands and opened her eyes to find both men looking at her closely, waiting for the roar of the helicopter to pass over them.  As soon as it had, she added, "It didn't land, but for maybe an instant, and I doubt even that.  It sounded like it was moving the whole time."

"They couldn't have been able to see anything
until they got below the cloud cover, which is close to the ground today.  So they may have taken a few rounds or seen people shooting at them and aborted the landing," Hank said.  "This is not good.  Whoever that is will be back, and they know what to expect now; so next time they'll be prepared for a hostile reception.  We should be prepared for the same."

"Yeah, it's safer for us
to assume they're not friendly until they prove differently.  One warning shot is all the warning I'm willing to give 'em," Gus said.

"Mom didn't give even that, or we'd be dead."

"If they get that close we shouldn't either, but I hope to stop them as soon as I can see them," Gus said.  "I'm going to the shop to keep watch from there."

"
I agree.  We can't afford to assume good intentions from people who are desperate.  I'll be in the house with Ela," Hank said.

Time passed.
Snow fell. At noon the sound of snowmobiles broke the silence.  Standing outside the front door of the house Ela pointed toward the highway.

Gus joined her and Hank
, saying, "Those snowmobiles are coming from Gateway, so I think they must be someone other than people from the dude ranch, because they're following the highway instead of taking the shortcut of the cross-country trail."

"I was thinking the same thing.  Wonder if these guys will do
any better than the helicopter did," Hank said.

"I think I hear
the helicopter coming," said Ela.  A moment later the men heard the aircraft approaching, its rotor-beats echoing off the canyon walls.

"Let's stay out of sight and see how this shakes out.  We may want to try and contact these guys, if we can figure out if
they are law enforcement," Gus said.  He turned and went back to the shop.

As they walked back to the house
Hank added, "It's a good bet local law enforcement as well as the people at the dude ranch would know the short cut to the dude ranch, but those snowmobilers with the helicopter don't.  Since they are following the highway, I don't think they are locals."

Ela
held Hanks eyes for a moment before answering, "So let's run through what we have.  We've just heard a helicopter and snowmobiles, but haven't seen them.  Before that we heard gunshots when the helicopter first tried to land, and now it's back with its reinforcements.  Both came from Gateway.  I don't think there are any law enforcement resources in that one-horse town.  If they're not from the dude ranch and not local law enforcement—who are they?"

"Whoever they are they're deadly serious, or they wouldn't be flying in this weather in the first place.  Secondly, it didn't take long to return after the first attempt, so they've got resources close by.  I agree that it's more than the town of Gateway can afford, so I really doubt it's the local law.  Private security, or hired guns, is what all this looks like to me," Hank said.

They stopped outside the front door to listen; the helicopter seemed to be circling or moving continuously, masking all but the loudest sounds.  Hank watched the look of concentration on Ela's face and waited, knowing she had a better chance of separating individual sounds from the noise.

She sh
ook her head as her eyes opened. "It's hard to be sure, double echoes in the canyon or something, but it sounds like machine-gun fire," she stopped talking and cupped her ears.

"The helicopter is landing, I think," she said.

Moments later the sound of a jet engine diminished to a lower pitched whine. Sporadic gunfire could be heard, though it seemed to be winding down.  "Yeah, and it sounds like the battle is over.  Now we'll see if anybody comes our way," Hank said.

"If it isn't law enforcement and is a private security force it means so
meone at the dude ranch is rich or important enough to be rescued, or kidnapped—wish I knew last week’s guest list," Ela said.  "The more I think about this the more I scare myself.  Let's go inside and get ready for whoever decides to drop by."

"Since it was the peak of fall colors when Abe hit, getting a reservation for that week probably took some pull and/or power.  Al described the clientele to me as rich liberals associated with the media that love
d being pampered while they get back to nature.  Maybe it's a news chopper rescuing a big-name newscaster or network executive," Hank said.

"Or kidnapping one.  Th
e helicopter is taking off," Ela said.  She looked out through the partially opened front door hoping to get a look at it as it flew over.

The noise increased dramatically as the aircraft came over low and slow enough to get a good look at the place.  Seconds later the silver-colored helicopter increased speed and altitude, quickly disappearing into the snow and cloud cover.

"That was a Bell 407 and not one based around here.  I see most of the local choppers when they land at Grand Junction on days I work at the airport.  Those birds are worth a couple million dollars at least, and I'm pretty sure that one was not government or law enforcement," said Hank.

"I hear the snowmobiles again, I sure hope they're friendly, 'cause I think I hear them getting closer."

"They're avoiding us again . . . going back on the highway, I think," Hank said moments later.

Gus came walking up to them
and said, "All's quiet in Unaweep Canyon once more.  What do you make of that?"

"We were just talking about t
hat.  The helicopter is private. My guess is it's probably leased, judging from the paint job.  They were certainly curious, coming so low and slow over this place," Hank said.

"From the air they
had to see our tracks, smoke from the chimney, maybe even the disabled snowmobile near the trees, so they know someone lives here," Ela said.

"Time to figure this out, just waiting is driving me nuts.  I'm thinking of going up to the dude ranch to see who and what is left there," Gus said.

"Agreed, we've got to find out what's happened, and I want to go too.  We've got two snowmobiles, we can all go," Ela said.

"
I think I ought to stay here and keep an eye on things.  Take both machines and cover each other.  Do a quick check, and then get back here before dark.  Then we can make a plan for tomorrow.  Make sense?" Hank said.

Gus looked at Ela
, "Can you drive a snowmobile?"

"Can you?"

Gus looked at Ela realizing his mistake, "Dumb question, sorry."

Hank turned and walked into the house hiding a smile.  He could tell they were attracted to one another, and he figured Gus had alr
eady realized his feelings.  Ela though, dealing with Con's death and the survival situation, probably had no idea of her true feelings.  He hoped they were allowed enough time to sort things out between them.

Once Ela
and Gus were ready Hank walked with them to the shop and helped get the snowmobiles turned and aimed out the open door.  With an understanding only gained through many years of people-skills practice, Hank sensed that Ela knew nothing about snowmobiles.  He came to her rescue smoothly by taking her arm and walking with her toward his snowmobile.

"Alright
, Young Lady, here’re the rules, so you don't go hot-rodding around on my borrowed machine and wreck it."  Out of Gus's view Hank gave her a wink.  "I find that if you just slowly give a little bit of throttle she will take off smoothly.  If you mash the throttle too hard the track will spin, digging a hole for itself, so don't do that.  Lean into the turns just like you would on a motorcycle.  Here's the brake and there's the key, ready to give it a try?"

"I was born ready," Ela
said.  She gave Hank a hug and climbed on.  Turning to look at Gus sitting on his snowmobile she gave him a slight bow and a wave, indicating she would follow.  It was the same gesture she had used to welcome him into the car four nights ago, when he had appeared out of the snowstorm.

Ri
ding the snowmobile proved easy but numbing cold; she could see where it could be fun if she was dressed for the conditions.  She kept the taillight of Gus's machine about fifty yards in front her.  Following the hard-packed trail they made swift, but bone-chilling progress.

Finally, Gus began slowing and waved at her to pull up beside him.  Once there a break in the trees allowed a view of the ranch buildings, or what was left of them in the flaming ruins.  Everything was on fire, but nothing moved around the burning buildings.

Ela glanced over at Gus and saw reflections of the fire on his grim looking face, "As much as I would like to warm up by the fire, we should get back.  Seen enough?" Ela asked.

"Yeah, it's worse than I thought.  Nothing's left but a crime scene down there, let's go."

~~~

Sure that she would end up losing at
least a finger to frostbite Ela walked stiffly into the house and straight to the fire.  Then she backed off when her cheeks started to burn.  She looked at Hank, "I've been flash frozen, but they burned the dude ranch to the ground, smoldering buildings are all that's left."

Hank took her outer layer and hung it to melt and dry in the hallway.  Then he
went to the kitchen, poured Ela a cup of coffee and took it to her, "See if this helps."

"Hank,
you're the best.  Thanks."  Ela wrapped her stiff fingers around the warm cup and smiled at Hank as much as her stiff cheeks would allow, "That's perfect."

Gus walked in after putting the snowmobiles in the shop.  Hank greeted him and went to the kitchen to pour each of them a cup, "Certainly not neighborly folks, burning the place down.  Law enforcement wouldn't have done that, so I'm guessing it was a way of covering their tracks, no evidence or witnesses left at the scene of th
e crime."

Ela
came into the kitchen wrapped in a blanket, "Maybe the helicopter flew over us while looking for other potential witnesses close to the ranch?"

Gus responded
, "This question comes up a lot lately, do we go or stay?"

"If you plan on going to Grand Junction we need to approach carefully.  When I left town the situation was something most people were trying to get away from.  If food and fuel still haven't arrived, going there isn't a good option," Hank said.

"Where else can we go if Grand Junction and Gateway are out?" Ela asked.

"We can talk about that, but first are we in agreement that we can't stay here?" Gus asked.

"If I'd just committed murder and arson the fewer people that knew about it, the better I'd feel," said Hank.  "Right now, they may be talking about how to tie up all the loose ends, such as coming back here to search this house and outbuildings.  I doubt rescuing us is one of the options they're considering.  I vote we move on and as soon as possible."