Push Back: A Post Apocalyptic Thriller (The Disruption Series Book 2) by R.E. McDermott

his coveralls and nodded toward the small cabin of his own boat. “And that’s Dave Bollinger at the wheel. So you were looking for prison tattoos, right? How’d you know about that?”
    “It’s a long story,” Wellesley replied. “Why don’t y’all come aboard and I’ll tell you all about it. And the offer of the coffee stands. I just made a fresh pot.”
    Kinsey nodded and instructed Bollinger to bring them alongside the Judy Ann , then moved to pass lines to Wellesley. Minutes later with their own boat secure alongside, the Coasties boarded the push boat and followed Wellesley into the mess room, where other men waited. Wellesley made introductions, going down the line of men, who each nodded as they were introduced.
    “This here’s Dave Hitchcock, captain of the Rambling Ace tied up just ahead of us. Then we got Jerry Arnold, Sam Davis, Bud Spencer, and Tom Winfield; they’re all from boats that left.” Wellesley grinned. “And that greasy-looking customer on the end is Jimmy Kahla, chief engineer of the Judy Ann .”
    Kinsey introduced himself and Bollinger, and Wellesley waved them to a table as the other men took other available seats in the galley and Wellesley excused himself and moved into the small galley. He returned with three steaming white china mugs of coffee on a tray and set it down on the table before them.
    “The rest of you jokers can serve yourselves,” Wellesley said, “I’m only waitin’ on the guests.” There was good-natured laughter as the others got up and headed into the galley. “There’s sugar and creamer there on the table if you need it,” Wellesley said to Kinsey and Bollinger.
    The Coasties nodded and took a cup, both preferring it black. Kinsey sipped his and set it down on the table as the other men drifted back into the mess room to take seats.
    “So, back to my original question, Captain Welles—”
    “Call me Lucius,” Wellesley said. “You mean about the tattoos?”
    Kinsey nodded, and Wellesley continued. “Well, some of the boys that left ran into some trouble west of here—”
    “The boys that left?” Kinsey asked, obviously confused.
    Wellesley sighed. “It would probably be better if I just started at the beginning.”
    Kinsey nodded.
    “Well, there were already tows stacked up on either side of the lock, waiting transit, when the lights went out. We was all just sitting here the night before, watching all the pretty lights in the sky; then come daylight, the power went down ashore. At first we just thought it was some sort of routine problem, and we didn’t hear much else because VHF reception was horrible and nobody had cell reception. Then after a couple of days, more tows were stacking up, and nobody showed up to work on the lock. VHF reception started to gradually improve, and we started hearing bits and pieces of news from Lake Charles all about this solar storm thing. There wasn’t much we could do but sit here, because even when the radios started working better, cell reception was out, and none of the boats could call their company offices to find out what we were supposed to do. What we were hearing on the radio didn’t sound too good, and of course, everyone started worrying about their families.”
    “Understandable,” Kinsey said. “What happened?”
    Wellesley smiled wanly. “You might say we had a little imbalance. Most everyone on the stranded tows lives somewhere along the waterway system, but way more of ’em live east of here, either along the coast near the Intracoastal or up the Mississippi system. Thing is, it’s not divided evenly by boat; most crews are a mixed bag with crewmen from all over. Well, naturally, everyone wanted to head home, or at least in the general direction, and based on what we were hearing on the VHF, we all figured sticking to the water was way safer. Headin’ home in the boats seemed the natural choice, but the problem was, only the tows on this side had anywhere to go.”
    Kinsey nodded.