LeRoy Clary - Humanaty's Blight

I nodded, dumbly.

A new voice called, “I’m all for it. They ain’t going to pass right by me without a fight.”

More voices joined him. A man on the other sailboat called out, “I just got hold of three boats by radio that are already there waiting for us to join them. They are calling others to arrive too.”

Behind the captain on the cruiser, a man climbed into view and called, “I just reached a guy who is with a motorcycle club south of Everett. They’re riding with us and will keep watch from the shore if they sail past Everett to Seattle. Along the way, they’re going to recruit more people.”

Steve moved closer to me and whispered, “Nice of you to take charge like this, Captain Bill. Now, tell them the only three places logical for a fleet to land are Tacoma, Seattle, or Everett. There will be too many survivors in the first two that might put up a fight, to it’s probably Everett where there is a deep-water port ready for the taking.”

When I didn’t speak, Steve shouted the information as if I’d just told it to him. He then said, “If they pass up Everett, we can follow them south to another place they might land, but Bill thinks their goal is Everett.”

“Captain Bill has been right about everything else,” the woman with the loud voice said.

“Yup.” Someone on another boat agreed.

“Sure has,” another said as others silently nodded.

Sue was still standing on the bench seat. She shouted, “What are we waiting for? Use your radios and warn everyone on land and sea. Tell them to head to the navy place in Everett by foot or pickup, but let’s get there before they do. Invite all your friends to join the party.”

Steve said in a louder voice, “I agree with Captain Bill. Sure, the ships might unload at Bremerton or somewhere else, but I think the invaders will want access to the mainland and the highways and railroads there. If they establish a military presence and hold it, they can occupy more area as they send in additional troops and ships. If they are successful with this first wave, you can bet more troop carriers will be on the way.”

That speech sobered them. Meaningful and wary looks were exchanged. Everyone seemed to understand that what was about to happen in the next few days or weeks would define their lives. The nearest sailboat pushed off and hoisted its jib, turning into the wind until it pointed back the way we’d come. Its mainsail caught the wind as the vessel increased speed and sailed back to Everett and the naval base there as if the boat couldn’t wait to return. The deep-water port had accommodated aircraft carriers and its support ships in a task force, so landing a fleet of troopships would be no problem.

I considered what little I knew of the harbor in Everett and realized Steve had been right. Besides, the ability to handle more than one ship at a time at the naval facility, the base was already surrounded by fences that could be guarded by the first troops to arrive. Railroad tracks were there for the transport of men and materials after the area was secured. The natural topography tended to isolate the area of the landing from the rest of the city, and thus make it ideal for a landing.

Of the three most promising places, I’d choose Everett if I was in charge. The other boats were pulling away, all heading south. We turned and followed, Steve at the wheel.

Sue poked me in my ribs. “Nice job, Captain Bill.”

Steve giggled and I had to laugh. If there was ever a more reluctant or inept captain, I didn’t know who it would be. Sue headed for the cabin and the radio, where the man we’d taken aboard was reaching out to as many people as he could.

She returned a few moments later. “He’s on the shortwave, has contacted dozens of other shortwave operators all over the country and told them what’d happening here. They are spreading the word. A group from Seattle is forming and getting ready to caravan north to Everett, and he even managed to reach an army reserve post just south of Everett. They have trucks and heavy weapons, and in case the ships do land in Everett, they hope to meet them.”

“The army has troops?” I asked.

“Recruits,” he called them.

I could imagine his recruits, but if they brought heavy weapons, whatever they were, he was welcome. The shortwave had also reached a guy near the port who claimed to have a cannon. I dismissed that one, and asked, “Where is the lead ship now?”

“South of Port Townsend, about four hours from the tip of Whidbey Island at the slow speed they are moving,” Sue said as if she knew what she was talking about instead of repeating what she’d heard. She went on, “If they turn east there, Everett is their destination. If they continue, it’s either Seattle or Tacoma.”

“How many ships?” Steve asked.

“Nineteen,” came her instant reply. “We got a report from a boat up there as they passed by.”

Steve hesitated as he calculated. “Say five hundred soldiers on each ship—that makes close to ten thousand soldiers. If they get to shore, it’ll be hell to defeat them, especially before reinforcements arrive.”

The other boats of our group were almost out of sight, all ahead and moving faster. An open-bow pleasure boat filled with five or six people came up from behind. I made sure my rifle was ready, but they passed by with wild cheering and shouting in the race to join with the others.

I looked at Steve.

“Going to the party,” he said in a droll manner.

The radio operator poked his head out of the cabin. “I got hold of a paramilitary group that claims they have over two hundred men in the center of Everett. They have ten pickups and are going to shuttle their people to the navy pier along with weapons. They said everyone will be there in an hour, and they are sending out the word to another army they’ve been fighting.”

“Sounds good,” I ventured, for lack of something better. “There is also another group in Marysville and a lot of them ride motorcycles. Is there a way to contact them?”

His head disappeared.

I turned to Steve. “How is he talking to others with short-wave?”

Steve furrowed his brow. “Huh?”

I drew a breath and gathered my thoughts. “There is no power, to start with.”

“Oh,” he said with a smile. “These short-wave guys are volunteers who help in times of emergency. They have batteries and solar cells, these days. Usually, enough power and backups to last a week or more.”

Ten minutes later the radio operator emerged again, wearing a wide smile. “Your gang from Marysville is on the way, and so are five pickups loaded with men from Silver Lake, wherever that is. Both groups are due in an hour and are spreading the word that the invaders who set loose the blight on us are coming.”

Sue said, “That’s it! Radio everyone that the ships coming here sent the plague, the blight, to kill all of us, so they can take our land. If anyone wants to get even, head for the docks. Have them set up a safe route of passage through Everett for anyone wanting to help.”

I looked at her in confusion.

“What?” she drawled in the way her generation says it when older people don’t understand something they consider simple to understand. “Spread that rumor far enough, true or not, and even survivors in wheelchairs will be rolling to the navy base. Tell them Captain Bill said so.”

She was right again. All but the last. I ignored the giggle that escaped her.

Two powerboats pulled from the shore of Whidbey Island and turned south when they reached deep water. We raised our mail sail and picked up speed. I glanced at the radar screen and found at least fifty blips in front of us. Each was a boat. As we got nearer to the tip of the island, there were more, even some little aluminum fishing boats with little nine-horse outboards. There were sailboats, pleasure boats, fishing trawlers, cabin cruisers, and more. If it floated and had a means of motion, it was represented.