“It’s quite all right,” Eve said with a smile and no intention of arguing. “Most people don’t expect it when they meet me.”

  “But what about the dog?” Connor asked.

  “My name is Fidget,” the beagle said. “Me and Satch met Eve in a real shithole.”

  The passengers looked to Eve for confirmation. She wasn’t comfortable with this many eyes on her. Or with opening up this much at all.

  “Florida,” she said. “It was a secret lab in Florida.”

  “The Sunshine State,” Laura smiled, coming to Florida’s defense. “I thought Florida was lovely.”

  Eve agreed in principle. “It’s less so since the AC went out.”

  “Does the big dog talk, too?” Connor asked.

  Eve looked around for Sasquatch. She hadn’t seen much of him since they got on the boat. He must have found a cool spot below deck. The captain’s dog must have shown him, because she hadn’t seen the mastiff in a while either.

  “You know,” Connor said with that grating monotone. “The big one.”

  “We don’t know,” Eve said. “This little one has never stopped talking long enough for him to try.”

  “I’m the little one,” the beagle said with a yip.

  “So where is your story taking you?” Caine asked. “What’s in Cairo? What’s the next great adventure for the badass chick?”

  Eve struggled to answer. Nothing was taking her there. But as the new central hub of the world, it seemed as good a place as any to find out what life had in store for her next. “I guess I’m just looking for trouble. Things have been fairly quiet since the fall of Invictus.”

  “That’s a good thing,” Lana said. “Right?”

  “Yeah, it’s a good thing,” Eve said, and looked out over the river. She knew she didn’t sound convincing.

  “I guess I’m just restless.”

  “What about you, kid?” Caine asked.

  Connor snapped. It was the first time any emotion had found its way into his voice. “Why you gotta be so nosey?”

  “Relax, kid. It’s not that I really care. I’m just naturally curious. I think it’s what makes me such a great actor.”

  “Are you sure it’s not your humility?” Andy asked.

  “You could be right,” Caine agreed. “I am fantastically humble. But I think that’s more what makes me relatable, so it’s more of a star thing than actor. Like an X factor.”

  “So, what about you?” Andy asked. “What’s in Cairo for you?”

  “Well, it’s the crossroads of the world, isn’t it? Everyone comes through Cairo now. So there’s no better place to find trouble, open a donut shop or promote a movie. I get to meet all my fans. My favorite part of what I do. So, I meet and greet, and we distribute the new movie, Fall of the Librarian.”

  “You’re on a publicity tour,” Eve said.

  “Yeah. But a tour where the world comes to me. We sell the film and raise funds for the next great movie.”

  “Who would have thought?” Andy said with some wonder in his voice. “Cairo, Illinois.”

  “Right. And the funny thing is, no one can explain why it’s so important,” Caine said.

  “It’s at the confluence of the Mississippi River and the Ohio,” Jerry said as he stepped out of the cabin. “From there you can access most of the Midwest and eastern portions of the country.”

  Caine pointed and nodded. “You learn something new every day.”

  “The Illinois and the Union Army built defenses there,” Jerry explained. “Huck Finn and Jim were aiming for it, and Dickens called it a disease-ridden backwater. There’s nothing new about it.”

  “Well, it’s new to me,” Caine said. “Thanks for the lesson, professor. Now did you need something or did you just want to make me look stupid?”

  “No. I just wanted to tell you to shut up. It’s time to be quiet.”

  “Thank God,” Connor said, and laid down across the bench.

  “What do you mean, time to be quiet?”

  Jerry threw a thumb over his shoulder, pointing downriver. “Pirates.”

  7

  Raider activity had slowed across the wasteland since the fall of Invictus’s evil empire. It finally gave the good people of the apocalypse a chance to regroup and catch their breath. The tale out of Niagara Falls had also given them a boost of confidence, and soon, stories of towns standing up to their bullies began to spread.

  With this respite, people began to feel safer traveling and took to the rivers once more. But with river traffic came pirates. And since the only real difference between a raider and a pirate was a boat, it wasn’t long before people began to question if the problem had really gone away.

  Jerry pulled the boat’s engines back to idle and let the Boomer drift along slowly with the current. He cut the engines and tossed an anchor over the side. The Boomer quickly settled into its position.

  “This is a joke,” Caine said. But it was more of a question. “Like your pal, the King of the River. There’s no such thing as pirates.”

  “That’s ghosts you’re thinking about,” Jerry said. “There’s no such thing as ghosts. I assure you that pirates are very real. So I’m going to ask everyone to be very quiet for a little while.”

  “What’s a pirate?” Fidget asked.

  Jerry sat back in his seat and stared upriver. The other passengers followed suit, and for several moments the only sound was the Mississippi rolling by. It was clear that silence made Caine uncomfortable, and he couldn’t sit still for long. “I’m not buying it. If pirates were a problem, someone would have done something about it.”

  “Like what?” Jerry asked.

  Caine explained his plan as if it were obvious. “Like, they would have found out where they were and taken them out.”

  Jerry smiled and turned in his seat. He pointed off the bow. “Do you see that bend in the river?”

  Caine looked and shrugged. “Yeah.”

  “Right around that bend, the Illinois River meets the Mississippi. You turn left and follow it far enough and you’ll get to the Great Lakes, canals and even Canada. That’s more than enough room for pirates to hide from your posse.”

  “So why are we stopping?” Dalton asked. “Shouldn’t we just race past the entrance before they can hear us?”

  “They’d catch us,” Jerry said, and pointed back upstream.

  A small blue speedboat was approaching the Boomer’s position. A houseboat wasn’t far behind it.

  “There’s safety in numbers,” Jerry said. “We’re going to hold here and let the traffic catch up to us.”

  “Won’t that just make us a bigger target?” Laura asked.

  “No. Better an armada than a lone boat,” Jerry said. “They’re less likely to mess with all of us. I don’t know how much you know about pirates. But they’re pretty big cowards when you get right down to it. If they don’t have the advantage, they’d rather not bother.”

  “So we have to travel with them all the way to Cairo?” Dalton asked, pointing at the approaching craft. “This is ridiculous. I should have gotten on one of the bigger boats. I’d certainly be more comfortable.”

  “We don’t stay with them to Cairo. Just to Elsah. The pirates won’t go farther south than that.”

  “What about your rules?” Connor asked. “Your friend said they don’t mess with you.”

  “Look, kid. I’m as willing to take a chance as anyone when it comes to an expiration date. But when it comes to pirates, I’m really more of a better safe than sorry kind of guy. So if everyone could please stay quiet. We’ll get moving as soon as the rest of the boats catch up.”

  “I thought you were a badass,” Connor scoffed. “Or was the King of the River full of it?”

  “Are you honestly asking if a man who calls himself the King of the River is prone to lying?” Andy asked.

  “That’s not what I’m saying. What I’m saying is⁠—”

  “It would really just be better if everyone was quiet,” Jerry assured them.

  A brief silence followed until the beagle spoke again.

  “Eve, can you explain what’s happening? Satch says he’s scared. I’m not of course, but if I could explain it to him, I’m sure he’d feel a lot better. Or worse, depending on what you said, of course. I guess it really matters on what you tell me.”

  “Everything is okay, Fidget. We’re just going to play the quiet game for a little while.”

  “That’s not good,” Fidget said, and turned to the Great Dane who was still very much asleep. “She used my full name, Satch. That’s not good.”

  “Maybe it would be best if the miracle of mad science waited this out below,” Jerry suggested with a nod toward the beagle.

  “Oh, what does below mean?” Fidget asked.

  Eve nodded and stood up. “I’ll show you, Fidge.”

  The next few minutes saw two more boats arrive. Like the Boomer, they cut their engines and dropped an anchor. There were silent greetings between the captains as the would-be armada grew. Jerry saw four more boats approaching from upstream and stood up. He crossed to the deck and asked Dalton and the young man to stand up.

  Connor only moved with sighs and stood up slowly. “What if this doesn’t work?”

  “It usually does,” Jerry said, and lifted the seat cushion.

  “But what if it doesn’t?” Dalton asked.

  “If we all die, then I’ll give you a refund,” he said, and pulled a duffel bag from the seat compartment. He replaced the cushion and let the men sit back down. “Now please. Let’s all be quiet, calm and maybe just a touch less argumentative in general.”

  Dalton held up a finger to interrupt but Jerry beat him to it. “And before you say it, rest assured I know you’re not argumentative.”

  The quiet was welcome. Not only was it a break from the passengers’ complaints, it made it easier to listen for signs of a scout along the shoreline. Jerry watched the banks through binoculars and listened for any sign of an ATV engine or anything that seemed unnatural.

  “Looking for scouts?” Eve asked quietly.

  Jerry nodded as he scanned the shoreline once more. He saw nothing and grew hopeful that this would be an uneventful passage.

  “See any?”

  “No, but they’re there.” He knew they were. They were always watching.

  “Someone’s watching us?” Laura whispered the question. It was the first sound she’d made since he’d asked for silence.

  Jerry lowered the binoculars. “Yes. But that doesn’t mean they’ll come. Pirates are generally lazy people. They sleep late. Hate work. Steal from others instead of doing things for themselves. So they’re not going to make a move unless they think it’s really worth it.”

  This seemed to put Laura somewhat at ease. Jerry turned back and caught a wary glance from Eve.

  “Or if they’re really desperate?” Eve asked.

  Jerry nodded and patted his hip in the same location he knew she kept her gun.

  She acknowledged the signal and turned back to the shoreline to examine it herself.

  Over the course of half an hour, a little more than a dozen boats had thrown anchor in line with the Boomer, ranging in size from a fishing boat to a sixty-foot houseboat. Roughly half of the haphazard fleet was made of private craft. The remainder were Mason’s Shipping vessels.

  There was one escort vessel between them, and it motored between the anchored boats, speaking to the captains. They eventually made it to the Boomer.

  The craft looked like, and may have once been, a Coast Guard vessel. Twin outboards propelled the boat while the pilot stood at a center console surrounded by armed men.

  A young man with a large rifle strapped across his chest stepped toward the Boomer. “Captain?”

  Jerry raised a hand.

  “You know that I am not here to protect your vessel.” It wasn’t a question. It was a fact.

  “I do.”

  “You are of course free to proceed with us but know that my duty is to protect Mason Shipping property before all else. If you interfere with our operations, we will fire on you. Is that understood?”

  “Noted.”

  With these formalities out of the way, the Mason Shipping escort moved on to another captain to spread the message. Once all had been notified, the escort ship moved to the front of the fleet and signaled that it was time to move on.

  Everyone let the slower houseboats take the lead and trolled along behind them at idle. As they reached the confluence, all eyes were on the mouth of the Illinois. It was quiet and empty and that was a good sign.

  A pirate’s tactics were never subtle. They never approached slowly or with caution. They wouldn’t sneak up on you. It simply wasn’t a pirate’s style to approach with anything but panache and flair. So, there was a good chance that you’d hear them coming.

  The houseboats made it past the confluence and continued on down the Mississippi while the others followed behind them.

  The Boomer pulled in line with the river’s mouth, and Jerry reached for the binoculars. The waterway was clear of traffic and he was going to count the day as a lucky one. He set the binoculars back down and smiled at Eve.

  She shook her head slightly and drew her gun.

  Jerry turned back to the river and saw them coming. The jet skis came around the bend first. The drivers were hunched over, streamlined against the wind. Their passengers were standing, thrashing the machines back and forth, completely negating the aerodynamics of their pilots.

  The speedboats came next, cutting their turns much faster than necessary and throwing up a wall of wake as their hulls dug deep into the water.

  Behind the speedboats would be the yachts. They rarely got involved in the fight, but it was from these larger ships that the pirate captain directed the attack.

  But no one was waiting for the yachts to make an appearance.

  The shouting began almost instantly, and boat engines roared as their captains fed them as much gas as they could handle. And, just like that, the fleet disbanded and it became every man for himself.

  Mason’s boats converged on one another as the escort ship began to circle the company’s assets.

  The houseboats were at the greatest risk. They had a head start, but with their slower speed their lead wouldn’t last long. Their decks filled with armed men as the crews scrambled to meet the oncoming threat. They took up positions along the rails of their vessels and prepared to fight.

  The rest of the privately owned craft scrambled. The runabouts and day cruisers got up to speed quickly, and Jerry sped to join them as they closed the distance to the houseboats, but he looked back as he passed a small Glastron that didn’t seem to get the message that it was time to run like hell.

  Jerry tossed Eve the binoculars and pointed their way. “Why aren’t they moving?”

  She looked through the lenses. “I think they’re having engine trouble,” she said. Only a second later it was clear. “Yep. Smoke. They’re waving for help.”

  “Dammit,” Jerry said with a heavy breath, and eased off the throttle.

  “What are you doing?” Caine shouted as they began to slow.

  Dalton joined in with the panicky questions. “Why are we slowing down?”

  “Their engines are out,” Jerry said, and began to bring the Boomer about.

  “But ours aren’t,” Connor shouted back.

  “They’re on their own,” Dalton said as if he had any authority. “Get us out of here!”

  “We can’t leave them,” Eve shouted back.

  “Yes, we can!” Caine shouted back. “We’re grownups, we can do anything we want.”

  “There’s just two of them in there,” Eve shouted, looking through the binoculars. “They won’t be able to fight them off.”

  “And what are we going to do? Splash them?”

  Jerry tossed the duffel bag he had pulled from the seat into the middle of the deck. The clatter that followed sent the two big dogs hopping back. The kid knelt by the bag and unzipped it.

  “Start handing them out,” Jerry said, and returned to the helm.

  “I thought you didn’t run guns,” the kid yelled.

  “I don’t. That’s my personal collection. Now start handing them out.” Jerry had brought the boat about and hit the throttle. The couple in the disabled craft jumped up and down with excitement as they saw the Boomer head toward them.

  Andy grabbed a rifle from the bag and led his wife below deck.

  “You’re crazy,” Dalton screamed over the engine. “Who does this? No one does this! Why are you doing this?”

  “It’s the right thing to do,” Eve shouted back.

  Caine agreed with Dalton. “Well, that’s a really stupid reason to do anything!”

  “They need our help!” Jerry countered.

  “We need our help,” Caine said, fumbling with a rifle magazine as Lana tried to explain to him that the particular magazine he was holding didn’t go with the gun he had chosen.

  “Who’s the action star here, Lana?” He threw the magazine back in the bag and waited for her to point to the proper one.

  It was a race to the stranded boat between the Boomer and the pirate jet skis. And it wasn’t a race the Boomer could win.

  The first jet ski was almost upon the stranded vessel.

  “Shoot it,” Jerry screamed at Dalton, who had taken up position just behind him with a scoped hunting rifle.

  “I’ve got it,” Dalton said through a held breath as he tried to steady the rifle. “I’ve got it. I’ve got it.”

  The more Dalton made the claim, the more the barrel of the rifle swung about.

  “Shoot him!” Eve echoed.

  The shout made him jump, and he almost dropped the rifle overboard. “Quit yelling at me!” he screamed once he regained his grip on the weapon. “This isn’t easy.”

  Eve snatched the rifle from his hand and pulled it to her shoulder. She fired three quick shots, and two of the jet ski pilots and one rider dropped into the river. She handed the rifle back to Dalton and turned back to the pilot house.

  “That’s not a good look for you, old dude,” Connor said with a chuckle.

  Dalton had nothing to say in return but found a new determination to hit something. He took up a position on the rail and started firing.