He nodded and added, “Maybe it is not a case that all of them are wrong and you are right. It could be they are right. Our world changed and our thinking has to change also. If you want me to ask you before doing things, just say so, Cap. You’re in charge of this boat and all that goes on in it. Just think about it and if you want us to sail on alone, we will.”
I did not want to be in charge. I didn’t want anyone else to be, either. He was right. I needed to think about it and get my head straight. I couldn’t have things both ways. “I will. Sorry.”
Sue came back outside. I suspected she had been listening at the door and waiting. Steve went into the cabin as she took a seat beside me. “Anybody else shooting at us, or racing speed boats in our direction this morning?”
“Is it me, or am I getting jumpy and paranoid at the same time?” I asked.
She raised her soda can in a salute. “Both… and more. I used to think school made me stress out. A history paper due or an upcoming math quiz put me into a sweat. How are those things compared to what we face daily? I need some time to put it all in order inside my head. Like a month on a tropical beach, maybe.”
Her words were my thoughts.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Two of the boats arrived within sight at the same time. They were sailboats, both ten feet smaller in length than the Truant, both gleamed white with fresh paint as if they were painted at the same time. The condition of each was immaculate at first glance, although with closer inspection, there were signs of aging around rusted fittings that had been painted over, a few dents and dings, corrosion on metal, and other clues the boats were not new.
What that meant was that they were well cared for by owners who cared. The people traveling on them remained outside in plain sight, without obvious weapons, although I was sure they had them nearby. It was a trust issue. They were showing us they came in peace. I put my rifle aside and raised empty hands. Their postures relaxed.
The man at the wheel of the nearest boat called, “Can we toss a rope and all of us get together instead of broadcasting our plans all over the air on a radio?”
“Cap?” Steve hissed from the side of his mouth after the question was shouted. “They’re waiting for you to answer.”
“What do I say?” I asked, not sure of the nautical terms that were appropriate.
“How about, ‘sounds good’ or ‘come on over?’”
My scowl at his caustic reply caused Steve to smile. I turned away and called, “That sounds good.”
Steve said, “Cap, I’ll get the rope and handle tying us up while you invite them to come aboard since we’re much larger.”
That was twice he called me Cap in the last few moments, and he’d asked my opinion both times. Now that he was treating me as a captain, as I’d wished. It was uncomfortable.
My attention was torn away from introspection as I saw the other passengers. A woman of about thirty with a girl that looked so much like her it had to be her daughter—and the girl also shared features with the man at the wheel. A boy, younger, seemed to look like all three.
A survival family? Four people in the same family were unaffected by the flu?
The second boat was pulling close and with a nod in my direction. A man in the stern called out, “Permission to come alongside?”
I gave him permission as if I was in charge of things and knew what I was doing.
Steve caught the rope for the next boat that was tossed to him and pulled it closer. He tied the sterns of each boat to either side of Truant and helped them to climb over with an outstretched hand. Unlike the first boat, the second held two men and a woman, none of whom looked related. Soon, they were all aboard and introductions were made.
It quickly became obvious the second owner and his two passengers were both unrelated and strangers to each other. They were three survivors, which was to be expected. However, the captain of the second boat was familiar with the family on the first. That was a puzzle that added to how an entire family had made it past the blight, along with a friend.
What were the odds of that?
Or did they know something that allowed them to live when so many others had died? I chastised myself for being so suspicious as the others talked excitedly among themselves. The radio had an almost steady stream of conversation and Sue remained seated there where she could speak.
Steve came to my side and said, “Now that the flu has run its course, people are coming out of their holes. Boats are a natural conclusion.”
“Like for us,” I muttered.
“Everyone has the same idea. Those islands up north are going to get crowded.”
Being a loner, that didn’t sound good. Neither did having seven strangers on my boat. Yes, my boat. Uncomfortable. I didn’t bother to learn their names. My eyes kept track of their hands, possible places they might conceal weapons, and furtive movements. I saw none.
I was correct in my summation that the family of four survived together, along with the man who owned the second boat. The family had been on vacation at an isolated ski cabin in the Cascades near Stevens Pass when they heard about the outbreak. Instead of rushing home and chancing infection, they remained up there and shunned any visitors. That choice probably saved the lives of the family.
Their friend, who owned a similar sailboat, had lost his family to the illness and had taken to his boat right away after that. He’d sailed in circles near Tacoma for a week before reaching his friends on the boat’s radio. The other two people on his boat were refugees they’d come across. One had been making her way to the coast south of Seattle to find a sailboat, much like we’d done. She had limited experience sailing but had determined it was her best chance to escape the carnage they described in the larger cities.
The cockpit was very crowded. Sue came to my side and looped her arm in mine as if she could read my mind, and she whispered in my ear, “Stay calm. They’ll be gone soon. Steve is going to call them all inside the cabin and make plans. You don’t have to join.”
I nodded. Looking around, the sun had come out and there were five more boats within sight. Four seemed to be heading north and turned to avoid the three of us. One puttered in wide circles and repeated the action. I assumed it was fishing. Sue agreed and put a line over.
Steve had everyone inside but came out and flashed us a look. “I asked another boat to join with us, Cap. Okay?”
I gave him another silent nod, neither agreeing nor disagreeing. My aversion to people was making itself felt.
He said, “If you don’t mind, keep your pistol ready and watch them close. It’s a forty-foot yacht with eight on board. All armed to the teeth.”
“Why let them come close?”
He appreciated my hesitation. “The one I spoke to on the radio knows a friend of mine. Not a lot of connection, but some. He knew a few things about him only a friend would know. They were heading up the other side of Whidbey and ran into two boats that turned back because of our warning.”
“A family, I asked?”
“No. Mostly men. They can provide protection for us in return for us helping them avoid the trouble with the blockade.”
Over his left shoulder, I saw the boat coming our way. My defenses rose a little more.
Steve left me to go inside and make plans. I was isolated again. Sue had slipped away while he and I talked. Her fishing pole bounced, and the line stripped out. I grabbed it and managed to land a small salmon without help.