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

trying to get to Baton Rouge to find my own family. This isn’t in any way an official Coast Guard operation.”
    “So is the government doing anything?”
    “Nothing I want to be a part of,” Kinsey said, and beside him Bollinger nodded.
    Wellesley’s face fell; then he looked resigned. “Yeah, actually that’s kind of what I’d figured from the VHF traffic. It’s kind of a shock to hear it ‘official like’ though.”
    “How many of you are left?” Kinsey asked.
    “Seven on this side, and around thirty on the other side of the lock, grouped together on four boats. Staying close to where the stores are made more sense than trying to drag everything to a few boats.” He grinned. “Besides, I kind of like being on this side where I can take off if the need arises.”
    “So thirty-seven all told?”
    He shrugged. “Last time I heard. We don’t keep a muster or anything. Could be some of those boys took off. Why?” Wellesley asked, suspicion rising in his voice.
    “Just curious,” Kinsey said.
    Wellesley gave him a long look, then nodded. “All right, but like I said, it’s your turn to share. How exactly do you plan on getting to Baton Rouge? Small boat or not, you’re not getting through that lock or the ones after that.”
    “We brought a trailer and we figured—”
    “Is that what you’re towin’?”
    “Yeah,” Kinsey said. “We got a winch we can mount on the front of the trailer, and long leads to run from the winch to an extra battery in the boat. I figure if we can find someplace with a reasonable slope, we can hook on to something ashore and drag the boat out of the water on the trailer, then push it around the locks by hand and relaunch on the other side of each lock.”
    Wellesley looked skeptical. “You better have a look at the canal bank before you go settin’ your hopes on that.”
    “Excuse me, Chief,” Bollinger said, “but if the Judy Ann ’s higher antennas give her VHF coverage as far as Port Arthur, we could probably give Captain Hughes an update.”
    Kinsey looked at Wellesley, who shrugged. “Help yourself. If there’s friendly folks within VHF range, I’d like to connect with them anyway.”
    Kinsey nodded. “We’ll take you up on that, but first I think we ought to have a look at the situation so we can let our people know what we plan to do.”
    Wellesley nodded. “Leave your rig tied off to us. The boys will keep an eye on it, and I’ll run you up to the lock wall in our skiff. That’ll be a lot easier than crawling across all these tows. Matter of fact, I probably need to go on over with you, just so the boys on the other side don’t get antsy.”
    ***
    Fifteen minutes later, Kinsey and Bollinger stood beside Wellesley on the steel and concrete bulkhead leading into the lock, staring across a narrow backwater at the canal bank. Kinsey studied the sloping bank covered with a jumble of rough-cut granite blocks the size of washing machines.
    “See what I mean?” Wellesley asked.
    Kinsey nodded. “Even if we can get you to shuffle the barges so we can access the bank, that riprap stone is pretty rough. I don’t see us dragging the boat and trailer over that.”
    “I was hoping there might be a boat launch ramp, but I guess that was wishful thinking,” Bollinger said.
    “Nothing solid to hook the winch cable to either, and no way we’ll be able to manhandle her out of the water without a mechanical assist.” Kinsey sighed. “All right. Let’s look the whole situation over and start working on a plan B.”
    Bollinger nodded and the Coasties followed Wellesley along the top of the narrow bulkhead until they got to the wall of the lock proper and walked across a grassy verge to step into a large square asphalt parking lot flanked by a metal storage building. Across the expansive square the asphalt narrowed to a road running the length of the lock, with what were obviously the administrative offices and workshops at the far end.
    Bollinger cast an