Nuclear Winter Series by Akart, Bobby (i read a book txt) 📗

smiled, and blood poured out of both sides of his mouth until he died with his eyes staring into Mike’s.

Mike shook Patrick by the arms in an attempt to revive him. He pounded the man’s chest to restart his heart.

“What do you mean?” he shouted his question, and then his body convulsed. He suddenly felt like someone had wrapped a belt around his neck and pulled it tight, cutting off his ability to breathe. His eyes grew wide, he gasped for air, and then everything went black.

Chapter Fifty-Five

Tuesday, November 5

Bay St. Louis, Mississippi

The men slowed their pace and walked steadily toward the frightened passengers waiting on the dock to board. A few of them had just stepped onto the boat. At the man’s instructions, they panicked and scrambled off the fishing vessel, falling hard onto the wood dock before crawling away.

Lacey glanced at the wheelhouse to gauge the captain’s reaction. He’d disappeared. She turned her attention back to the men and saw that they all had their guns drawn, pointing them wildly at the trembling passengers on the dock as well as in the direction of the boat.

Unexpectedly, three shots were fired a hundred feet away from down the pier. The son had returned and immediately opened fire on the men. He struck one of the assailants in the back of the head, throwing blood and flesh onto the dockside passengers. They screamed and then jumped into the harbor in fear for their lives.

The remaining men turned on the captain’s son and began firing. Each shot several times in the young man’s direction, but they all missed. In a gun battle, especially between shooters who are untrained, it’s not unusual for over ninety percent of the rounds to miss their marks. However, it just took one to kill.

Lacey jumped at first and then dropped to her knees when the thunderous boom of a shotgun blast occurred from just over her shoulder, immediately followed by another. The captain had emerged with his marine shotgun and wasted no time firing upon the attackers.

They spun around to shoot back, catching Lacey and Tucker in the crossfire. They fell to the deck and scrambled for cover, although the fiberglass sides wouldn’t necessarily protect them.

Bullets and shotgun pellets were flying in all directions. Lacey had managed to crawl up the slight slope toward the bow and out of the line of fire. She eased her head over the railing to watch.

There were two dead bodies lying on the dock, surrounded by blood. Both of them had been shot in the head. One of the shooters had dropped to a knee. Bleeding from his chest, he continued to fire at the captain’s son until he finally found his target. The young man was struck in the shoulder, spun around, and then fell off the dock but not before striking his head on the transom of a boat as he hit the water.

His father, the boat captain, saw this and unloaded a barrage of shotgun fire. He’d squeeze the trigger, rack another round, and then fire again. He stood strong against the last man standing on the dock, the leader who had demanded everyone get off the boat. Brutally wounded himself, he finished the battle with a kill shot, nailing the captain in the heart, who instantly fell to the deck.

Exhausted, the killer dropped to his knees and began waving his gun around. He tried to shout, but blood gurgled from his throat and into his mouth. His eyes were wild as he became increasingly incoherent.

“Off … my … boat!” he tried to yell, but it was barely audible as he began to lose his breath.

“Mom!” shouted Tucker as he tried to gain his footing only to slip and fall in the captain’s blood.

“I’m okay.”

“Off!” the man yelled as he spit out more blood. He raised his weapon and tried to shoot in their direction. All that resulted was several clicks barely heard over the still-running diesel engine.

Tucker regained his footing and held onto the rail to greet his mother as she made her way past the wheelhouse. She was incredibly calm under the circumstances.

“Quick, untie the dock lines.”

“What?”

“We’re leaving,” she said as she pushed past him. She pointed toward the bow and carefully made her way past the dead captain. When she reached the entrance to the wheelhouse, she pointed at the man who’d wrapped his arms around his wife and daughter.

“You. Untie that line.”

“But …” He was uncertain if he should follow Lacey’s instructions.

“Now! We’ve gotta go.”

The man jumped at her stern tone and nervously began to untie the line. Lacey entered the wheelhouse. The enclosed space included an eating area, a small galley, and a traditional wooden six-spoke ship’s wheel.

“We’re clear, Mom!”

Lacey turned the wheel and nervously grasped the throttle. This boat was much older than her Dad’s, but the basics were all there, including console-mounted electronics. At first, she gave it too much throttle, and the boat rushed forward. Tucker and the family were thrown to the deck.

“Sorry about that!” Lacey shouted.

Tucker responded with a question. “Whadya want me to do with the body?”

Lacey didn’t have to think about her answer. “Throw it overboard.”

She glanced over her shoulder through the windows above the galley. Tucker and the father slowly hoisted the man onto the side of the boat and dropped him into the harbor. Seconds later, Tucker was by his mom’s side, wiping off his bloody hands on a dish towel.

“Are you okay?” she asked, glancing at him while navigating between the jetty and the Rutherford Pier.

“Yeah. You?”

Lacey nodded and then pointed through the front windows. “The sunset looks different than what I remember.”

“Weird.” Tucker seemed to be recovering from the hectic moments when six men had lost their lives during the gun battle. The two were remarkably calm.

Tucker took a deep breath and reached into his pocket. He dangled a set of keys for his mother to see.

“Are those …?”

“Yep. The keys to Black & Blue. It’s the extra set