The men were massed together on the open rear of the main deck, and I could only see them because the boat came at a slight angle. I aimed for the mass of them and squeezed off all five shots. I hit one man. The group ducked out of sight, not so brave anymore.
The double-barreled shotgun found my hand. I broke it open and loaded two green slugs. The shots boomed. I think I missed with both, but they might think there were more of us because of the different sounds.
I reloaded and listened to Steve fire at them more slowly with his rifle, taking a second or two to aim between each shot. The nearer boat was going to pass directly ahead of us, and I waited before firing my rifle, but pulled my nine-millimeter and emptied the magazine at the other boat that was now speeding away. I saw the driver was a deck higher than I’d been shooting, out in the open.
My rifle came to my shoulder and I fired five spaced shots at the figure. Steve was firing again, and one of us must have hit the man at the wheel. The boat made a sharp turn and looked like it was going to roll over, it turned so fast, the engine still running at full speed.
It went too far away to hit anything, but I looked for the other boat and didn’t see it in the mist. A look at the radar screen showed it was rapidly pulling away from us. The first boat, the one that had been turning at full speed, pulled to a stop as if someone had managed to get to the throttle. Winks of orange and yellow told us they were shooting at us before we heard the sounds of several guns. None of the shells came close enough to hit us or to see where they hit the water.
They were using handguns, as far as I could see, a silly thing since we had rifles that were accurate for twice the distance. I reloaded and timed the rocking of the boat with my shots.
Steve spun the wheel and shouted at Sue, “Let me steer.”
Sue rushed up the stairs and reached for the bullets in the bowls. “Can I load the guns?”
We went away from the boat firing at us and made a wide circle around it. It remained stationary. As soon as we were lost in the fog, the shooting stopped.
Steve pointed at the radar screen. “It looks like they’d have enough.”
I sat heavily on the seat, my heart pounding.
Steve said to me, “If I had any doubts about your bravery, Cap, they’re over.”
Sue looked at him with the same puzzled expression I must have worn.
He said to her, “He stood up and returned fire with all those bullets flying all around us.”
“What bullets?” I asked.
He started to laugh, then halted. “On their approach, everyone on board was shooting at us.”
“I was reloading, I think. When they pulled away, I saw them shooting at us.”
He shook his head. “No, there must have been a few hundred rounds that came our way, most of them too high. Look at the jib.”
There were five or six new holes in it.
If bullets went through the jib because they were fired from a boat in front of us, those same bullets had passed right by me. I hadn’t known a thing about them. It was good I was sitting, or my knees would have given out and I’d be on the deck.
There were no more boats on the radar and the fog seemed to be thinning. He said, “I’ll be right back.”
He went below while I avoided admiring looks from Sue. It was hard to tell her that I was so scared the bullets had flown past without me knowing. She went below and returned with a cold can of soda, the store brand of a supermarket that can never seem to get the right cola taste of the big two. She also carried two more boxes of ammo. We reloaded in silence.
Steve finally emerged and shut down the engine. The quiet of fog at sea enveloped us, with only a few splashes against the hull, the call of a seagull high overhead, and a metal something that again tapped out a pattern on the metal mast.
He gave us a thumb’s up. “We’ll hang here for a while. I talked to that boat behind us and it is a sailboat. Four people on board, doing the same thing as us, running for a safe place to anchor at an island. I warned them about the blockade.”
“Good,” I muttered.
“Also, they are in touch with another boat they are following, and both are turning around and coming this way.”
Sue said, “How can we trust them?”
“Both are sailing their family boats. They know each other and know how to sail. We can go on without them, but there is safety in numbers. I doubt those last pirates would have attacked three boats. It’s something to think about.”
My reservations were kept to myself. I didn’t like crowds and didn’t trust them. Never in my whole life. I’d been the one made fun of too often. My insecurities were well-founded.
“More good news,” He said. “There is a guy on the south end of the island with a view of the water and a marine radio in his house. He’s going to warn all boats traveling north.”
I wondered if it was the man we’d seen walking his dog on the beach down there. There was a good chance it was. While we waited, the wind and currents carried us closer to the island. We noticed but were a half-mile away and waiting for the first of the other boats to arrive. A splash fifty feet away and a little behind us drew our attention, and then the sound of the gunshot reached us.
Someone on land had taken a shot—and it came far too close. Steve hit the starter for the engine, spun the wheel, and gunned the engine as he took us away from land. Three more shots came our way, each farther away than the last, yet they may have served their purpose. We were not going anywhere near where the maniac who shot at us was located.
My anger riled and my reaction was to point the bow right at where the shots came from, leap over the side into the water, wade ashore, and hunt him down. I picked up the rifle again and used the scope to search the beach. If I saw someone, I’d return fire, because those are my new rules. In the past, I’d have wanted to do the same. Now, I would.
When Steve turned the engine off, Sue asked, “What is wrong with people? Are they all trying to kill everyone else, so they are the last left alive?”
That was an interesting thought in a couple of ways. One way of looking at it was what she intended. Another was to do something about it. People were scared. Most probably hadn’t figured out that no more were getting sick. The danger from the flu, or blight as it was becoming known, seemed over.
If there was a way to tell everyone and pull them together to put things in order, I’d be willing to do my part. My eyes went to where the CB and marine radios were. Beside them was the short wave.
Steve went below. A few moments later, he returned with three cold beers, the last of our stash. Sue handed her’s back and went for a soda. He looked my way as he popped the top of his can and took a long drink. “Good news. We have another boat joining us.”
“We can’t save everyone,” I said, again thinking of a crowd of people around us where I’d feel lost and out of place. The comment hadn’t meant to be said but came out anyway. Sometimes I think there is more than a little Tourette syndrome in my makeup. My mouth says things without thinking and I can’t seem to stop the words from spilling out. I put on a face that hopefully said I was serious.
“But they might save us. Think of it that way. Four boats traveling together. Well-armed. Traveling as a force. Not many would dare attack us.”
He was right. I’d felt naked in the boat when I was alone with Sue. My temper was rising again, for no reason. After reaching the islands, we could go our separate ways. But that didn’t cool my anger. I said, “Don’t you think that’s the way every band of idiots on land is thinking? Surround themselves with as many guns as possible to protect themselves?”