Apocalypse Drift (17 page)

After depositing the sacks in the galley
, Wyatt asked everyone to have a seat. The main cabin was equipped with a table surrounded by a semi-circle of couch-like seating. After everyone had settled, Wyatt repeated what he had heard on the radio and related his first-hand experience at Food World.

David spoke first. “Should I try to get the satellite dish working? I think we need to know what’s going on.” Wyatt
nodded in agreement. The boat was equipped with flat screens in both cabins and the salon, but the reception in the fiberglass cocoon created by the hull was terrible. The original owner had purchased a new satellite system but never installed it. Wyatt thought, “
Just another one of the endless list of things that go with owning a boat. Things you never get around to.
” As David left to gather tools, Wyatt turned to his daughter, inviting her assistance. “Sage, why don’t you go to the bridge and follow the chat on the VHF radio? I’m curious if the Coast Guard is broadcasting anything.”

An expression fueled by annoyance crossed the young girl’s face. Sage glanced at her mother
who nodded approval. The teenager sighed, “You guys just want me out of here so you can talk. Whatever.”

After Sage headed for the bridge, Wyatt drew
next to his wife, and they hugged. Morgan’s concerned expression betrayed the fear welling inside her. “How bad do you think it is?” she queried.

Wyatt rubbed his chin and thought for a moment, “Pretty bad. As a matter of f
act, I was downright frightened, Morgan. The look in people’s eyes was the worst part.”

Morgan digested his remark while studying his face. Finally, she offered, “What are we going to do
, Wyatt? I’m wondering if we should try to make it back to Sage’s apartment or something. Are we in a good place?”

Wyatt had already considered
that and was quick with a reply, “I don’t think we
can
make it back, even if we wanted to. The reports on the radio indicted the roads are closed. The police asked everyone to stay at home and remain calm. I think we’re better off hunkering down right here. Don’t we have everything we need?”

M
organ tilted her head, mentally running an inventory, “I guess so…. I mean, there’s plenty of food, so I imagine we’ll be okay for a while.”

Wyatt racked his brain to remember
anything he’d missed – any critical item they might need later. Unless they ran out of electrical power or the water maker broke, they had an endless supply of H2O. Boxer’s two massive fuel tanks had been topped off with diesel. A few years ago, he’d learned the hard way to keep the reserve full. Preoccupied with the rush to return home after the weekend, he’d delayed refilling the tanks. The boat sat in the hot Texas sun for a few weeks while he was away on a business trip. Algae, feeding off of the air in the chambers, had grown and multiplied - eventually clogging the filters. It had been an expensive lesson having the tanks drained and scrubbed.
Boats are a hole in the water you throw money into
, he mused.

Boxer was also equipped with a small set of solar panels and a wind turbine. These dev
ices were used to keep the massive bank of batteries charged while “on the hook,” or at anchor. Most boaters wanted to enjoy a quiet anchorage without the constant drone of a running generator. These renewable energy sources helped extend the life of the battery bank.

He looked up at Morgan, “I think we’re in good shape here. As a matter of fact, we’re probably better off here than at home if the power stays out. We have electric
ity from several different sources, unlimited drinking water, and an ocean full of fish.”

Morgan nodded her agreement, “I guess you’re right.
I mean I can always serve fish and chips or fish tacos or fish grilled with lemon,” she giggled. “I’m going to start putting the groceries away. I hope you pilfered some good stuff. Something useful…like a five-pound tub of tartar sauce,” Morgan teased.

Wyatt laughed, “
Shoot. I just hope that guy lifted name brand soda. Some of those house brands are iffy at best.”

Morgan lau
ghed, extracting items from the bags. Wyatt watched her reach in a sack and remove a can.
Her expression changed to “Why would anybody buy this?” Wyatt easily recognized the look; he had seen that same face on several Christmas mornings as she opened presents. He chuckled again and left to check on how the kids were doing.

After finishing the dishes, Wyatt needed some fresh air and found David reclined on deck, his feet propped on the railing, his eyes scanning the harbor. He turned and motioned with his head, “Nice night…at least it would be if it weren’t for that,” nodding to the north and Houston. The sun had been down for over an hour, but the sky glowed an ominous shade of red. As the crow flies, it was over 30 miles to the metropolitan cowtown, yet the distant blaze illuminated the entire marina, the faint odor of smoke drifting in now and then.

With a sweeping gesture, David motioned around the marina at the dozens of expensive homes and condos hugging the shoreline. “I think the power is
out everywhere, Dad. None of these homes have a single light on. I see the flicker of candles in a couple of them, but everything else is completely dark.”

Wyatt glanced around and then climbed the ladder to the
bridge to get a better view. He scanned the horizon in all directions before confirming David’s conclusion. “You’re right, son. I don’t see a light anywhere. It looks like the whole area is still without power.”

David wasn’t through with his observation. “Dad
, since I’ve been out here, I’ve heard sirens several times. All afternoon while I was installing the dish, they were all over the place.” He lowered his gaze to allow scrutinizing his feet, seemingly hesitant to broach a vital issue. Finally, making up his mind, “Dad, did you bring the guns down to the boat? I only ask because I think I heard gunshots a while ago. They sounded pretty close.”

Wyatt wasn’t surprised by that question, especially given what he had seen earlier in the day. “Come on,
son. Let’s take account of what we’ve got. I think it’s probably as good a time as any.”

David hesitated a moment, “You don’t think I’m being paranoid, do you?”

“No son, after what I saw today, I think you’re spot on. I stored the weapons in the cabin. Let’s go dig them out.”

The two men descended the steps to the salon, Wyatt opening a rarely used hatch in the floor. Morgan, busy in the galley, instantly realized what was happening. She’d never liked having the guns aboard. She put her hands on her hips, “Is everything all right? Why are you getting the guns out? Please tell me a flock of ducks just landed outside, and you’re going hunting.”

“Everything’s fine, Mother,” replied Wyatt, “We just have a few minutes and want to be sure of what’s in here.”

Morgan didn’t
buy it for one second. She gave her husband a look of “Yeah, right,” and went back to arranging the refrigerator. Wyatt pulled out the two plastic cases and a large bag.

David and he carried the equipment onto the back deck, flipping on the lights so they could see. David opened the first
case and removed a 12-gauge shotgun. It was a pump-action Mariner model in stainless steel.

After hearing tales of the occasional local pirate,
Wyatt had brought his old skeet gun to Boxer. Even though the shotgun had a fine coat of oil, the blue finish had rusted in less than two weeks. When he took it to a gunsmith, the man had told him the salt air required either a military black or stainless finish. Anything else would rust away in a matter of days.

On his next trip to the sporting goods store, Wyatt explained his need to the man working behind the counter. Evidently, this was a common problem because the
fellow reached back and pulled out a bright, shiny shotgun he called the “Mariner’s model.” As the two men talked, the clerk recommended Wyatt think about an AR15. “It won’t rust, and that shotgun has a very limited range,” the clerk advised. “If I were worried about pirates, I would get something with at least 300 yards of range.”

Wyatt had seen pictures of the black rifle and knew that the military used something
similar to it. He decided it wouldn’t be a bad idea to have a little more firepower…just in case. The store was running a special, and the man had talked Wyatt into purchasing a case of 1,000 rounds of ammunition with his rifle. “You’re gonna need to sight the weapon and practice with it to feel comfortable firing. Plus, these guns are so much fun to shoot, you’ll be glad you got the ammo.”

When he returned home with the guns, Morgan was upset. “Are you expecting a
war? You don’t even like to go skeet shooting anymore. Why did you buy that?” He hadn’t been able to give her a good answer and had actually tried to return the AR15. He quickly learned guns couldn’t be returned, so he packed both of them away in the boat. Neither had seen the light of day since - until now.

David whistled as his dad pulled the assault rifle out of its case. “When did you get this?”

Wyatt replied, “It was an impulse buy. I don’t know…I thought it looked cool.”

“I qualified with one
similar not long ago. They shoot pretty well. Have you zeroed the sights yet?”

Wyatt shook his head, “Nope. It’s never been out of the case. There’s a bunch of ammo for it. Can you show me how it works?”

David nodded, “Yeah, it’s really pretty simple. In the morning, I’ll see if I can bore sight it and at least get it close. I can show you the controls in the daylight.” Wyatt watched as his son expertly disassembled the rifle and examined the parts. “I’ll need to clean it, too. It still has the factory grease here and there. No biggie.” David examined the shotgun, a serious frown forming on his face. “Dad, I think we had better load this one tonight. I know it sounds crazy, but I’m really concerned. After what you told me today and everything I’ve been hearing, we should keep this one loaded.”

Wyatt wasn’t so sure. Everything seemed reasonably calm around the marina. They hadn’t heard a siren for a while,
and he didn’t want Morgan and Sage getting any more upset than they already were. Wyatt decided they needed more information. Boxer was equipped with an AM/FM radio just like a car. He motioned David to follow him to the bridge, and he flipped on the receiver with the volume low. The two men sat and tried searching for both AM and FM broadcasts, but found nothing but static. Wyatt turned to David and asked, “Any chance you unhooked the antenna when you were installing the satellite dish?”

David thought about it for a second. “I
suppose anything’s possible. I don’t think so, but maybe.”

Wyatt switched off the radio, pondering his son’s suggestion to load the scattergun. His thoughts collected, Wyatt
was readying to voice his opinion when crackling shots sounded in the distance. David’s head snapped up, and he half stood. He looked back at his father and then at the shotgun and then back at Wyatt. His father had already made his decision. “Go ahead, load the gun.”

David shoved five shells into the shotgun, flipped on the safety, and tucked it under the bench seat at the back of the deck. He reassembled the AR15 and put it back in its case. He then stacked everything neatly in one corner and out of the way.

The girls decided to join them, and the family spent the rest of the night talking about anything and everything except what was going on in the world around them. Sirens whined in the distance a few times, but Wyatt was thankful there wasn’t any more gunfire.

Eventually, the salt air worked its magic, and yawns quieted the conversation. Wyatt glanced at his watch, noting how the time passed so quickly
. He stood, reaching skyward with both arms, stretching his back from its stationary position, and announced his intent to hit the hay. The entire family thought that was a good idea, and soon followed him inside the cabin.

Without shore power
, the refrigerators and freezer concerned Wyatt. All of the devices were dual voltage, having the ability to power by AC or DC. The DC current was supplied by the boat’s battery bank, but those wouldn’t last long without being recharged. Before retiring, Wyatt set Boxer’s controls to auto-charge. When the batteries dropped to a certain level, the diesel generator would fire up automatically and recharge them. The drone of the vibrating machine might wake the dead, but Wyatt knew that was better than having drained batteries. He flicked the switches necessary to set the controls, and then Morgan and he kissed and said their goodnights.