Doc did not hesitate, “No question about it, we need them as much as they need us. I’ll get my medical bag.”
Dad pulled in the anchor and drove the Goose as close as possible to the shore. Dad and Doc, with assault rifles on their backs went ashore, and walked up the hill. Several minutes later, a pickup came down the hill. Doc helped a young woman and two kids into the boat. We helped them aboard, and April Hall took the boat back to the shore.
The pickup was full of provisions and survival equipment. It took three trips and all the remaining storage space to get it all on board.
A group of thugs on motorcycles appeared as we were bringing the inflatable back on deck. Again we kids were hustled below decks, this time to the sounds of gunfire.
Dad backed the Goose away from shore while our assault rifles returned fire and forced the thugs to take cover. We sailed back down toward Sacramento.
Doc had a car GPS that he fired up, and used it to anchor over the Capital Building. The sonar painted a picture of a pile of rubble. Dad unpacked the little submersible ROV, and it relayed a TV picture, which indicated much of downtown, had been heavily damaged in the earthquakes that proceeded the flooding. April Hall watched in silence, and then fled the bridge. Her sister, Allison Jacobs followed and Doc commented. “He’s gone.”
The next morning we started searching for a safe refuge to make a land base. A week later, up the Sacramento River, we found an isolated island that the map called Sutters Butte. We sailed all the way around it, and found a cliff on the West Side, that made a natural wharf. Dad maneuvered the Goose up to it, and we tied up to a couple of big trees.
The island was seven miles long and ten miles wide. There were five abandoned summer homes scattered along it and a large meadow that became our communal garden site. Doc took the larger home, and it was designated as the Medical Center. Dad and I stayed living on the Goose, to keep an eye on things like keeping the bilge pumped. The other three families set up housekeeping in the other homes, and the first garden was planted.
After all the supplies were unloaded, We started doing some salvage and trading trips. We towed several floating cargo containers back to the island. One was full of new bikes and another had 4 new garden tractors and accessories. Others were useless, big screen TV’s, purses, electronics, and other junk. A container full of designer blue jeans and another of camping gear added to the trading booty.
We stopped at several places around the shores of the Inland Sea, where we found survivors. We mostly traded for food items, including live chickens, pygmy goats and rabbits. We also gave refuge to a few families with useful skills, including an ER Nurse, a machinist, a farmer, and a crewman from a tugboat. He said that the tug and a fuel barge it was towing had been abandoned in the delta when the water receded. He had a dirt bike on board and had used it to get to high ground.
The next trip we went looking for the tug and found it and the barge east of Stockton. It took a week of hard work, but we were able to get them both re-floated and the tug operational.
Chapter 8
The path down the mountain was treacherous and muddy. The creek was down quite a bit, but David had to work his downstream almost a mile before he found a safe place to ford. It was almost nightfall when he reached the point where he left his truck. The wind had rolled it down the side of the hill. The shell over the bed was partially crushed, but it was mostly dry, and David was able to sleep dry that night.
The next morning David started working his way down the mountain, mostly following the fire road he had taken on the way up. When it joined the highway, he continued west. By that afternoon he reached the junction where his friends plan to stay at the Creekside Motel.
There was nothing left but the foundations. During the Event the creek had become a raging river, and washed it all away. He hoped that they had not stopped there, but a mile downstream he saw Jason’s crumpled truck wedged against the hillside. He checked inside the cab, but their stuff was not there. Deep down he knew that they had not survived.
The next afternoon he reached the Big Thunder Indian Casino. The two-story building was mostly intact. There were fresh tire tracks in the sand that covered the parking lot, but no vehicle was in sight. At the entrance he called out, but heard no reply. When he entered, a sickly sweet smell greeted him.
They were in the bar area. Both were dead, with evidence of torture, and the woman was nude.
David spent the afternoon burying them in a common grave behind the building. There was an office upstairs, where the safe had been opened and emptied. He slept there that night on a couch, with the pistol by his side. He took a couple of cans of meat and a box of Bisquick from the pantry, and a bottle of scotch from the bar. After a breakfast of canned ham and cheese, He shouldered his pack and started following the tire tracks down the canyon.
After about five miles, the tracks turned off the highway, on to a narrow road. The tracks did not come out. David climbed the hill above the road, and carefully followed it up the canyon, while keeping in the brush and out of sight.
He heard the scream before he saw the cabin. Dropping the pack, he crept closer, and discovered that an older man was tied to a column that supported the corner of the roof. The older man screamed when a younger man touched a cigarette to his face. An AK47 was leaning against the wall. Another young man opened the door and said, “knock it off, the old broad just dropped the coffee when he screamed. I’m hungry, let’s eat first.”
The second man came out and sat down at a table on the other side of the porch. “Gimme a butt and a light.”
The other guy responded, “ I tell you they gotta have some gold around somewhere. They got a nice sluce box over there. I’ll make that geezer talk, just like I made that guy open the safe.”
“All in good time, now I want to eat. Hurry up in there,” he shouted.
The door opened, and an older woman came out carrying a coffeepot and two cups. “I’ll have it ready in a few minutes. The Coleman’s only got one burner.” She set the items down and went back inside.
Keeping out of sight, David crept around to the back of the cabin. There was a back door, and he carefully opened it. She startled when she saw him, but did not cry out.
“Shush, I’m a friend. Ask one of them to open the door for you and get out of the way. It’s risky, but I have to try to take them both out.” She agreed, and took out a tray and a stack of dishes.
David hid behind the door, and the woman called out for someone to open the door. When it swung open, the woman threw the tray to the floor with a crash. The startled young man hesitated and then started to reach for the 9mm at his waist. David had wondered if he would be able to take a life, but did not hesitate to put a 357 slug through his chest, and knocked him off the porch.
David was through the door before the second young man could reach the AK47, and the first bullet in his hip, spun him around. The second took him out.
The old man, Elmer Frombach, was in bad shape. David and his wife Alice carried him into the bed. He had a broken arm, lots of cuts, burns, and bruises, and a possible concussion. After they had done everything possible for Fred, Alice made a meal for them.
“They came driving up like they owned the place, pulled out their guns, and tied Fred up. There was nothing we could do. Thank God you showed up. They would have killed us for sure.”