Dangerous Shores: Book Two; Hell or High Water

  Dangerous Shores

  Book Two; Hell or High Water

  By

  Christine Conaway

  Text copyright© 2015 by Christine Conaway

  All Rights Reserved

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any manner’

  without written permission from the author.

  This novel is a work of fiction,

  born solely from the imagination of the author.

  Names, places, incidences are completely coincidental or used fictitiously.

  Table of Contents

  The Journal…The Gulf of Mexico

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  The Journal; Five Weeks After

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  The Journal; Somewhere around Jamaica

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  The Journal, Panama City Panama

  The Journal…The Gulf of Mexico

  I wasn’t sure I would ever get to write another word in this journal…some Russian asshole took a shot at me. It just proves that you my friends are right. Thank God my head is truly harder than a rock because I have a new part in my hair. I really have no memory of being shot. One minute we were in the dinghy and then I woke up here in my own boat. If Hannah knew I was awake and writing she would probably have a fit. She tries to take good care of us and I am so grateful to have her aboard.

  Apparently we also picked up another survivor from the sunken Cheoy Lee. I don’t remember much about him except he has a dreamy voice and gentle hands and for some reason I remember his name is Frank. I don’t think I was being the perfect patient while Hannah put stitches in my scalp until she enlisted his help. I’m looking forward to seeing if the man lives up to my first impressions of him.

  We are obviously moving as I can feel the motion of the water. I hope to God we are not headed back to the mainland. I am still having a hard time believing everything that has happened to date. I don’t think anyone knows why the lights went out but I have my suspicions. The Russian Major we met on Garden Key said it was his group, the N.W.C. That stands for New World Coalition, if you didn’t know but I hope he is just another wacko trying to take advantage of the circumstances. He says they are creating a whole new world because we have screwed it up so bad that we need to start over. This is too scary to even contemplate.

  I almost wish we had stayed to find out who the other two representatives of the group were. I know what you’re thinking. What could someone like me do to stop these people?

  It’s almost ludicrous to think that two young kids, an old dude and a crazy writer lady could do anything to stop these events before they unfold. I know I would laugh too if my head didn’t hurt so much.

  My only hope is that somehow, or someway we can all get back to Washington State. Maybe I have blown our chances for survival there out of proportion, but it has all the elements of a post-apocalypse hideout. It is very secluded, plenty of wildlife, miles from any notable population and easily defendable. In my mind there is nothing to draw people to the area other than the seclusion.

  By the time we get there I’m hoping to find the region has stabilized some. Whoever survives until then probably deserves to survive…unless they are the bad guys. We’ll have to wait and see what we find when we get there.

  I am laughing right now, because before this all started I was seriously considering going home and selling off all of Uncle Jerry’s primitive equipment. Chances are good, we will need it to survive. That’s if someone hasn’t already stolen it.

  Remember all the crap you guys used to shoot at me for having such conservative parents? Well guess what? They knew how to survive and even thrive without running to the store on a daily basis.

  I do hope some of you remember how to get there and remember out conversations of what we would do…Well Crap! I’m busted. Here comes my ride to the topside. Time to close for today…

  Chapter One

  Ellen felt the weight shift in the boat as if someone had stood up. She hastily buried her journal between the cabinet and cushion. While she didn’t mind others knowing she kept the journal, she really didn’t want them reading her personal thoughts.

  She was right. Someone was coming down the ladder. “Alright Miss Ellen, I hear you are ready to join the living,” A good looking man said as he climbed down the ladder.

  With a turn of her head, she put a face to the voice. He looked as good as his voice sounded. She couldn’t find one fault with him. Not even his shaggy long hair put her off.

  She wasn’t sure who to expect and had thought Alan would be coming to her aid. She felt her cheeks flush remembering the soft tones and gentle hands this man had used while helping Hannah put stitches in her scalp. He was so warm and caring she felt he must have been remembering someone else whom he cared for deeply. She almost had regret that his words could not have been meant for her alone.

  “Actually, I am ready to go on deck. If I lay here any longer I will start screaming.” She used his arm to pull herself upright up, and had to close her eyes. The cabin walls expanded and contracted bringing the sour taste of vomit up the back of her throat.

  Frank grabbed the wastebasket from under the step and held it in front of her. One hand held the bucket for her and his other pulled her hair back from her face. Ellen vomited until she had nothing left in her stomach. Humiliated, she slumped back down on the settee closed her eyes and groaned, “Oh my God, I’m so sorry.”

  Her eyes flew open when she felt a warm wet washcloth on her face. “Hold still. Let’s get you cleaned up here. Sit up slowly this time and you can wash your mouth out,” he said as he slid his arm under her shoulders and slowly set her up.

  He touched her mouth with the glass and she sipped, sloshed it around and spit into the wastebasket. Slowly she opened her eyes and the room remained stable this time.

  “From what Alan and Hannah have told me, it is just like you to be all gung ho to get things done in a hurry. For now, you will have to take it easy. In case you didn’t know it, someone shot you in the head.”

  Ellen reached up to touch her head and found it wrapped in bandages. “I guess I was. Good thing my head is as hard as Daddy always said it was.”

  “Your Dad must have been a real smart man and probably hard headed too. If you are up to it, I will take you up top. The fresh air will do you good and we can all talk.”

  He bent down and easily picked her off of the settee. “I can walk you know. I am not a total invalid.”

  “Close enough little girl. Watch your knees on the door and we will be fine.”

  He set her down in an arrangement of pillows someone had brought up to the cockpit. The moon was the only light and with the reflection off the water it was enough to see by. Alan was behind the wheel watching her intently while Hannah hovered with a light afghan in hand. She placed it over Ellen’s legs. “How do you feel?”

  “Like crap but I can live
with it.”

  “Well you sure scared the crap out of us,” Alan stated. “Man…I was really scared for you, but maybe I was more scared for us. What would we do without you? I hope we never have to go through anything like that again.”

  Frank was right. The night air cleared Ellen’s head and she felt good being outside. It was so quiet with just the sound of the hull slicing through the water. She looked at her crew and silently thanked God they were with her. As much as she had not wanted the responsibility of others relying on her, she found she needed these people no matter how they came to be there.

  “Well I am sure you have all had the chance to exchange stories but just for my sake, let’s all tell a little something about ourselves and how we ended up here.” She saw her idea must have held some appeal because the other three were nodding their heads in agreement.

  “I’ll start if no one minds. My name is Ellen Burrell. I am 31 years old and the Annie-C is my home away from home. I am a travel writer for sailing and boating magazines, or at least I was before all this started. Now, I just want to get home to Washington State and I would be happy if you all wanted to join me on the journey. I don’t know how we are going to get there but by hook or by crook, we will. I have a couple ideas but I’m still kicking them around.” She nodded at Alan, “Okay kiddo, your turn.”

  “Well, my name is Alan Franklin Boone. I used to work at the marina while I went to school. I was a second year med student and I’m here because Ellen rescued me from a bunch of crazies on the dock.” He paused as if thinking, “I am 22 years old and I killed a man.”

  “You saved someone else’s life by what you did so it is justified. He probably would have killed us all but for you. So you can forget that ever happened. Well, at least try to change your thinking on it,” Ellen told him.

  He looked at Ellen and saw she meant every word she said. “Well, I can try. Sometimes it pops up when I least expect it too. I keep seeing his face in my dreams.” Alan shook his head, “Who knew the end of the world as we knew it was going to be this bad?”

  “I don’t think anyone could have seen this coming. You just have to try and forget the past and move on.” Frank said. “At least I don’t think the civilian population saw it coming. However, I wish I was as sure about our government.”

  Ellen gave him a long look and wondered if they were on the same wavelength. She’d get back to him later with her thoughts.

  “Hannah, do you feel like talking?” She was surprised when Hannah answered.

  “Yes, I’ve been sitting here trying to put together what I want to say while you two talked.” She exhaled a full breath as if resigned to put it all out there. “My name is Hannah Westergreen, I am 20 years old and I am an R.N. and was going back to school to be a physician’s assistant until…I was kidnapped. I would be dead right now if Alan and Dan had not rescued me. I was tortured and raped. My Mom went to Boston and now she’s gone.” A tear rolled down her cheek, but she didn’t lift a hand to capture it. She sniffed loudly and went on. “I am going to Washington State with you no matter what we have to do to get there. You are now my family.” Hannah finally broke down as if everything was hitting her at once. Alan reached out for her and she leaned into his side and sobbed.

  Frank saw Alan’s dilemma and crossed over to take the wheel and let him comfort Hannah. Ellen saw the compassion on Franks face and wondered about his story. They all had one and she was sure that in time they would learn everything there was to know about one another. Maybe not immediately but eventually.

  Frank cleared his throat and began, “My name is Frank Carpenter and as you know or probably suspect the Aurora was my home. I am 43 years old and retired military. I lost my wife Amanda the summer of 2015 and decided to become a hermit. Being at the Dry Tortugas was the beginning of my new life until the Russians showed up. The things they did will haunt my dreams for a long time. If they had not shot me, I would have gotten some retribution for all those souls they took. And by the way, I too have some medical training as a medic. I’m a bit rusty but like an old dog, I don’t think I have forgotten everything. And it if it hadn’t been for you guys I probably would be dead right now too. Be it from the infection from my gunshot, or starving to death or getting shot again, but I am sure I wouldn’t be alive right now. So as far as the trip, I’m in. I have nowhere to be any time soon so count me in.”

  “Well I guess we better put our heads together and decide how we we’re going to get there. Going around the Horn is out of the question as far as I can see. I don’t think the Annie-C is capable of making the trip and we would be going around it the wrong direction. Over the top, is out too. There’s not enough time. So we can go through the canal and out to the Galapagos, to Hawaii, up to Alaska and down or across the Gulf to Texas and walk. Myself, I would just as soon stay away from land for a couple of months until people either kill each other off or the lights come back on and the government puts things back in order.”

  Hannah had curled up leaning on Alan and fallen asleep. Ellen passed the afghan over to him. He spread it over her sleeping form and gently pulled her in closer. He looked at Ellen with raised eyebrows as if he were silently questioning her.

  Ellen knew what he wanted to talk about and looked at Frank. “Do you know what happened or is happening?”

  “I guess I missed the beginning because I tend to sleep with the sun. When I got up and went to shore, I found out about the communications being down. No one had working electronics or cell phones. I didn’t think anything about my phone not working because I never have signal off-shore, so it was turned off. But when the rangers phone didn’t work either I became concerned. We were basically cut off from civilization. We figured the planes would show up or the ferry and we’d find out what happened.”

  “And the sea planes nor the ferry showed up,” Ellen finished for him. “What I don’t understand is how can their boats and radios work and none of ours did? Wouldn’t a solar flare have destroyed everything with electrical circuitry?”

  “I’m not so sure it was a flare that got us. I think someone detonated three or four nuclear devices high up in the atmosphere over the U.S. The ensuing electromagnetic pulses would effectively take out the power grids.”

  Hannah having awakened interrupted, “A nuclear bomb? So we’re all going to die from nuclear fallout?

  “If it was detonated far enough up there, fallout shouldn’t be a problem, but I really don’t know. I think you’re more likely to die from starvation or from some asshole wanting what you have. Once it really sinks in that there are no more trucks bringing in food to the grocery stores the shit will hit the fan. People will do most anything to survive.”

  “Well Ellen and I saw what people will do just because they can. I wonder what some of those same people will do when they start turning on each other?” Alan asked aloud. “I guess it will be survival of the guy with the biggest gun.” He concluded with a grimace.

  Ellen had been listening with half an ear and was watching the phosphorescence in the water. The sky was dark blue velvet and with no ambient light to dim them, the stars looked close enough to touch. As far as she could see there was no visible land mass in any direction. For the first time in days, she wasn’t the one in control and it felt good to share the responsibility for their safety. However, she didn’t like the feeling that she didn’t have a clue where they were.

  “Does anyone know where we are? I don’t even know what the time is.”

  Frank looked at his watch, his eyebrows pulled down in the center, “I have a watch, but it isn’t working.”

  Alan looked at his with a grin, “Good old Timex, it’s almost two thirty. As long as I remember to wind it, we shall never be without the time.”

  “I’m going to make us some…I was going to say dinner but maybe it is more like an after mid-night snack. I’m sure Ellen is hungry. It has been a while since breakfast,” Hannah said as she rose.

  “We are about five and a half hours’ so
uth-west of the Dry Tortugas…well roughly. Without the G.P.S. (Global Positioning System) we have no way of knowing for sure until we can check a chart but even as slow as we’re moving by tomorrow afternoon we should hypothetically be able to see Cuba off the port bow. Then we have to make a decision on how we go from there. I may be of some help when it comes to the canal.” He saw Ellen’s raised eyebrows silently questioning him and felt the interest Alan was showing him.

  He had been through the canal back in 98 when the LPH (Landing Platform Helicopter) he was on, traversed the canal on the way back to Naval Base San Diego. That was his last tour of duty and he never set foot on a carrier again. He blamed the marines as well as himself for not spending enough time with his wife. She had struggled and lived alone most of their marriage and hadn’t told him about her cancer until he finally had had enough of the military. By the time his tour of duty was over it was too late for them. She died 7 months later.

  “My last tour of duty was on an aircraft carrier; we came through the canal to get back to San Diego. It was my trip home.” He seemed lost in thought for a few minutes staring off to the horizon and from the sadness in his voice they gave him space. Obviously his words had opened old wounds. “However, I do have a pretty good idea how to get through there. The way I figure it, and if you’ll allow me Miss Ellen, I’ll tell you what I think and then we can compare your thoughts.”

  “By all means Frank, it sounds to me like great minds do think alike.”

  Ellen was feeling good about their newest crew member. He was self-assured and as far as she could tell he treated both Hannah and Alan with respect. She knew how he had been with her and his acquiescing to her thoughts said buckets about his character.

  “I think we need to avoid both Cuba and Cancun. The Yucatan Channel has a very strong north-flowing current, and we want to head southwest. You know as well as I do that if we plan on landing anywhere near Bocas Del Toro or Colon we need to plan a course south of there and let the current take us in. Unfortunately, this is still the end of September and a good portion of hurricane season is still in front of us. The closer we get to Panama the chances of a hurricane lessen.”