Read The New Madrid Run for Free Online

truce, man and dog were beginning to accept each other, and a bond had begun to form. Travis was able to touch the animal without fear. The evening of the second day found the two of them sitting side by side on the cabin, watching the perennial magnificence of a Keys sunset. Travis turned to the dog, noticing the light reflecting off the veterinarian tag attached to the thick chain around the dog’s neck. “You got a name on that tag, big guy? Let me have a look.” Travis studied the front, then smiled. “Ra, huh? I like that. Very Egyptian. Well, Ra, tomorrow we up anchor and go looking for civilization.”
    Fortunately, fresh water on board ship wasn’t a problem. The ship’s tank seemed to be intact and almost full. In addition, whoever had owned the boat had stored three two-gallon water jugs below. Food, though, at this point, was a much more finite resource. They had sufficient supplies to carry them for a while, but Travis didn’t want to find himself marooned on a boat with no food and a hungry, one-hundred-and-fifty-pound Rottweiler. No doubt their tentative friendship could evaporate rapidly under those circumstances.
    The following morning found Travis in the cockpit of a relatively clean and operational sailboat. Taking the winds and currents into consideration, Travis figured his position to be roughly twenty miles northwest of the Middle Keys, or the Marathon area. As sustenance had become a major issue, he’d come up with a plan. He figured the waters had receded a few more feet by now, leaving perhaps twenty-five to thirty feet of water over the Keys. It was possible some portions of the larger, stronger stores in the Keys might have survived. There had been a large shopping center in Marathon that housed a grocery store and merchandise mart. There was diving gear on board the boat; he had discovered it while organizing. If he could find the remains of the stores, it was possible he could dive down and salvage supplies. The winds favored a cruise in that direction so, with no further delay, Travis upped the anchor, raised his mainsail, and set a course for the new world.

CHAPTER 3
    The wind was crisp and the boat handled well. Running with just the mainsail, Travis was getting about five knots, and that was fast enough for a one-man crew. The day wore on and he began to observe the gruesome evidence of an inundated civilization. Flotsam and jetsam of every describable variety littered the water: trees, roofs of houses, wrecked pleasure boats, and bodies—all the bodies . . . God! It was worse than what he’d seen in ’Nam. Bloated cadavers with milky, sightless eyes, and rigid arms bobbed up and down in a grotesque collage, as if beseeching the help that never came. He continued on.
    As he shaded his eyes from the sun and studied the waters ahead. Travis looked once, shook his head, then looked again. There, about 150 yards to port, was the slowly sinking wreck of what must have been quite an expensive yacht designed like an eighteenth-century Japanese sailing vessel. That, in itself, wasn’t so surprising. However, on the badly listing bow, kneeling casually in seza position and staring right at Travis, was a Japanese man. Travis guessed him to be in his early fifties. He was dressed in traditional Old-World garb. The loose hakama pants and a light “Happy Coat” made him look like something out of a James Clavell novel. Travis couldn’t believe it. The guy didn’t wave—didn’t even move. He was sitting on his sinking boat, watching Travis sail right by with no more concern on his face than if he’d been relaxing on a bench feeding pigeons in Central Park. Travis could barely contain himself. There was another human being—a strange one, but a live one.
    He stood, waved his arms and yelled, “Hang on, I’ll swing around and come alongside.” The Japanese just looked at him and bowed slightly.
    Travis came about and slid up next to the other boat. “Looks like you might be in need of