Read Online The New Madrid Run by Michael Reisig - Free Book Online
Authors: Michael Reisig
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jumped into the raft and tied it off. He lifted the lad up to Travis. The boy didn’t respond as he was picked up and handed to the man on the sailboat, but as Travis laid the child on a bunk in the cabin, the boy suddenly looked at him with frightened, pleading eyes. His mouth moved but made no sound.
“Easy son, easy,” Travis whispered. “You’re safe now. Just relax.”
They offered him water and he drank a small swallow but refused any food, then he curled up in a tight ball in the corner of the bed and dozed fitfully. The lad was nearly as tall as Carlos, still lithe, but at that age where he would soon begin to fill out. The features of his face were child-soft yet, but handsome. Travis thought he would grow up to be a fine-looking man, if he got the chance.
However, he was another mouth to feed, and unless Travis was successful in finding supplies, survival for the boy, and everyone else, was going to become questionable very soon. So after assigning a weak but attentive Carlos to watch over the youngster, he went topside and ran out every inch of sail, his eyes constantly searching the horizon.
An hour later, almost as if he had willed it, Travis spotted what was left of a huge, partially collapsed building protruding from the water. Dropping the jib, they sailed slowly and carefully over the area as Travis tried to verify their location. It appeared, by luck more than skill, they were over the Publix Supermarket/K-Mart shopping center he had hoped to find.
The depth of the water was approximately thirty feet. Though the recent turbulence had clouded the sea, the water was still clear enough to discern crushed and mangled cars in the parking lot below them. Many of the vehicles had been thrown against the side of the building by the force of the wave. The walls that had received the greatest impact of the wave had been completely destroyed; part of the back wall had held, but the roof was gone, carried away or broken into pieces and mingled in the carnage. The contents of the building were scattered over several blocks. Travis tried to keep himself from wondering how many hundreds of people had died in the wreckage below.
There were two sets of snorkeling equipment with masks, fins, and snorkels stored in the forward compartments of the boat. Accompanying them was a single dive tank and regulator, miraculously undamaged, registering twenty-two-hundred PSI, and two nylon catch bags. At a depth of thirty feet, an experienced diver like Travis could squeeze out about an hour and a half of bottom time with the tank—if he took it slow and easy. He decided to tackle the grocery store first. Afterwards, if he still had air, he’d try the K-Mart for whatever hardware and supplies he could find there.
Travis checked the boy before preparing to dive. The child still slept, but occasionally he would thrash back and forth silently. Looking down at him, Travis knew that the kid had been through a rough time, but at the moment, there was nothing more he could do for him.
They anchored the sailboat over what used to be the center of the Publix store. A cold, northern wind whipped at Travis as he stripped to his T-shirt and underwear, and it occurred to him that the weather had suddenly become unseasonably cold for this time of the year. He wondered if the damages the earth sustained had actually altered climatic conditions, as Cody said they would. If he could find supplies they needed, he was for heading north. If there actually had been some sort of polar shift, and the weather was getting colder in the tropics, it made sense that it might well be warmer farther north.
As Travis donned his gear and tied a rope to the catch bags, he consulted with the sensei about the dive.
“Here’s the plan. I’m going to take a quick exploratory look to see what, if anything, is left down there. If it shows promise, you toss me the two nylon catch bags and I’ll fill them with goods. When I’ve got them loaded I’ll jerk
“Easy son, easy,” Travis whispered. “You’re safe now. Just relax.”
They offered him water and he drank a small swallow but refused any food, then he curled up in a tight ball in the corner of the bed and dozed fitfully. The lad was nearly as tall as Carlos, still lithe, but at that age where he would soon begin to fill out. The features of his face were child-soft yet, but handsome. Travis thought he would grow up to be a fine-looking man, if he got the chance.
However, he was another mouth to feed, and unless Travis was successful in finding supplies, survival for the boy, and everyone else, was going to become questionable very soon. So after assigning a weak but attentive Carlos to watch over the youngster, he went topside and ran out every inch of sail, his eyes constantly searching the horizon.
An hour later, almost as if he had willed it, Travis spotted what was left of a huge, partially collapsed building protruding from the water. Dropping the jib, they sailed slowly and carefully over the area as Travis tried to verify their location. It appeared, by luck more than skill, they were over the Publix Supermarket/K-Mart shopping center he had hoped to find.
The depth of the water was approximately thirty feet. Though the recent turbulence had clouded the sea, the water was still clear enough to discern crushed and mangled cars in the parking lot below them. Many of the vehicles had been thrown against the side of the building by the force of the wave. The walls that had received the greatest impact of the wave had been completely destroyed; part of the back wall had held, but the roof was gone, carried away or broken into pieces and mingled in the carnage. The contents of the building were scattered over several blocks. Travis tried to keep himself from wondering how many hundreds of people had died in the wreckage below.
There were two sets of snorkeling equipment with masks, fins, and snorkels stored in the forward compartments of the boat. Accompanying them was a single dive tank and regulator, miraculously undamaged, registering twenty-two-hundred PSI, and two nylon catch bags. At a depth of thirty feet, an experienced diver like Travis could squeeze out about an hour and a half of bottom time with the tank—if he took it slow and easy. He decided to tackle the grocery store first. Afterwards, if he still had air, he’d try the K-Mart for whatever hardware and supplies he could find there.
Travis checked the boy before preparing to dive. The child still slept, but occasionally he would thrash back and forth silently. Looking down at him, Travis knew that the kid had been through a rough time, but at the moment, there was nothing more he could do for him.
They anchored the sailboat over what used to be the center of the Publix store. A cold, northern wind whipped at Travis as he stripped to his T-shirt and underwear, and it occurred to him that the weather had suddenly become unseasonably cold for this time of the year. He wondered if the damages the earth sustained had actually altered climatic conditions, as Cody said they would. If he could find supplies they needed, he was for heading north. If there actually had been some sort of polar shift, and the weather was getting colder in the tropics, it made sense that it might well be warmer farther north.
As Travis donned his gear and tied a rope to the catch bags, he consulted with the sensei about the dive.
“Here’s the plan. I’m going to take a quick exploratory look to see what, if anything, is left down there. If it shows promise, you toss me the two nylon catch bags and I’ll fill them with goods. When I’ve got them loaded I’ll jerk
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