Tales of Downfall and Rebirth (16 page)

Dixon waved his hand impatiently. “Of course, but . . . ?”

Mitch nodded. “What do we have to lose?”

*   *   *

H
OMER
C
OOPERATIVE
, S
OUTH
C
ENTRAL
A
LASKA
A
PRIL
3, C
HANGE
Y
EAR
1/1999 AD

Mitch kept his hands buried in the pockets of his jacket as he headed back from the harbor. Despite his foul mood, he registered the few curt nods he received from members of the Cooperative he passed on his way to the cabin Dixon had granted him use of until they came to a more “formal arrangement.” Dixon's words, not his.

He slowed his approach at the sight of Dani speaking to a young man outside the cabin, a soft blush on her cheeks. Mitch came up behind them.

“Danielle, who's this?”

She jumped and turned, fluster intensifying her blush. “Dad, this is Charlie from school.”

Once they got settled, Dani and Eddie started taking classes with the other Homer children, using books and textbooks that had been saved or salvaged. It had kept the kids busy during the winter months, but now it was just one more thing tying them here.

“I see.”

In a few years, Charlie wouldn't have to look up to meet Mitch's gaze. Today, however, Mitch used his height to remind the young man just who he was talking to, and he was rewarded when Charlie swallowed.

The young man gave Mitch a deferential nod, mumbled something to Dani, then scurried off. Mitch watched him go, partly bemused, partly annoyed.

“Remember what we said about making connections here?”

Dani huffed. “He's just a friend, Dad. Anyway.” She gestured vaguely toward the harbor. “How did it go?”

Mitch couldn't hold back his groan. “Bunch of landlubbers. Don't know how they're going to be ready in time.”

One of the men he was training to crew the
Windfall
ended up in the water before they'd even gotten out of the harbor—and it had just gotten worse from there.

“There's an answer to that.”

“No.”

She placed a hand on his arm. “Dad, I mean it.”

“We've been over this, Dani. I won't put you and your brother in any more danger if I can help it.”

“Even if it gets you killed in the process?”

Mitch didn't answer, just entered the cabin. Eddie glanced up from where he was sitting cross-legged on a wide-plank floor in front of the woodstove, book in his lap.

“You two fighting again?”

Mitch shook his head. “No.”

“Yes, we are.”

“Dani, the matter is closed.”

“The hell it is.”

Mitch looked at her in surprise. “What—”

“You're always saying we need to think for ourselves, but as soon as we do, you say the matter's closed.”

“Honey, that's not—”

“Dad, please. Listen for once.”

Mitch glanced at Eddie. No help there. Mitch faced Dani and crossed his arms.

“We've done everything you've asked of us and more. Now, it's time you do something for us. Let me and Eddie crew for you when the time comes.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Name one person here who's better than us.”

“That's not the point.”

Dani arched her brow. A slightly smaller but scarier version of Kathy. “Do you even want the Cooperative to succeed?”

Mitch held up his hands. “Where'd that come from?”

They'd put off their departure a couple of months to see this through, hadn't they? Originally, he told the kids it was just for the winter. As soon as the snow melted, they'd take the
Windfall
and—

“Because it seems like you'd rather fail than take us along.”

“At least you two would be safe.”

“But without you, where would we be?” Eddie piped in. He slowly got to his feet. “You're our dad. You're all we have.”

His ears turned bright red, but he held Mitch's gaze.

Dani stepped toward him. “We're a family. Our place is with you.”

“You don't know what you're saying.”

Dani glanced at Eddie and nodded. “We do. We want to help.”

“You don't owe these people anything.”

“What do you mean? We have a chance to start over. A place to call home. Do you really want to go back to salvaging? What's going to happen when we run out of boats to loot? When we run out of luck?”

Mitch shrugged. “We'll figure it out like we always have. We're a team.”

The corner of Dani's mouth lifted. He saw his mistake too late. She went in for the kill.

“That's right. And that's why you're going to let us crew for you.”

Outmaneuvered by his own daughter. He didn't know if he should be proud or ashamed.

*   *   *

E
NTRANCE TO THE
C
OOK
I
NLET
, S
OUTH
C
ENTRAL
A
LASKA
M
AY
18, C
HANGE
Y
EAR
1/1999 AD

The deep groan of the alarm call seemed to reach into Mitch's rib cage and give it a sharp tug. It was time, but until that moment, he didn't realize how much he had been dreading what they had to do. Armed with mirrors and a month's worth of rations, Dixon sent his hardiest men east along the coast to camp and keep watch for the Haida. And now they were finally here.

Dani and Eddie joined him on the deck, blinking back sleep. The
Windfall
, and the four other sailboats they'd managed to build or cobble from cannibalized remains of other ships, all waited at the entrance to the Cook Inlet, barring the way to the Homer Cooperative and the settlements beyond.

“Get the anchor up. Let's see what we got.”

Eddie started reeling it in while Dani unfurled the sails, both working in near silence. Mitch closed his eyes and listened for the wind. He rotated until it ruffled his hair and slid into his ears with a persistent sigh.

When he opened his eyes, he swore to himself. The Haida schooner was running downwind straight toward them. Double-masted, just like before.

The plan was to approach the ship, launch the trebuchet, then circle back around. Meanwhile one of the other sailboats would take their shot, giving them a chance to reload. But the
Windfall
couldn't sail directly into the wind. They'd have to tack like crazy and take their shots when they could. As it was they had limited mobility because of the weight of the trebuchet mounted to the rear deck. So much for strategy.

“We'll keep her close-hauled as long as we can.” It was the best they could do given the conditions. He just hoped the captains of the other boats could keep up.

Dani and Eddie made the adjustments to the sails. The
Windfall
crept closer to the schooner at a slight forty-five degree angle. Mitch glanced back. The rest of the “fleet” followed. Good.

“Dani, take over.”

She took hold of the tiller while Mitch and Eddie manned the trebuchet. The basket was already filled with petroleum-laced bombs. Rocks and cement blocks wrapped with foul-smelling fabric.
Light, let it go, and make sure the sailboat doesn't catch fire.

It sounded simple enough on land. But with the sea heaving under his feet, his two children, ever trusting, even in this, he wished far away from the concerns of men.

“On my mark,” Mitch called.

Eddie had the torch lit, his body shielding it from the breeze. Mitch could make out cries of alarm from the Haida, carried on the wind. The
Windfall
edged closer, and something told him they wouldn't get a better shot.

“Now!”

Eddie plunged the torch into the basket. The flame gutted, then a soft glow crept over the contents, growing in intensity.

“Get back!”

Eddie flinched away, nearly knocking over a bucket of sand they had on hand in case of fire. Once he was clear, Mitch loosed the lever. With a deep-seated groan, the trebuchet released its flaming contents. Like fireworks, the bombs separated in a glowing display before they smacked into the schooner.

The Haida loosed arrows in response, but they pelted only the water around them.

“Away, away!” Mitch cried.

The
Windfall
kicked up spray as she hit the first wake wave from the schooner. Dani turned the ship around, and the sails started to flap. They couldn't lose speed now. Mitch and Eddie worked to get them rigged properly so they'd be out of the way when the rest of the fleet made their approach.

“Another hit!” Eddie cried out.

A few more adjustments to the sails, and Dani had them pointed back at the schooner, which had slowed its approach. The wind had shifted so they didn't have to tack so hard to get back into position. Once the
Windfall
was lined up, he and Eddie lit the basket and let it fly.

By now, flames licked up the hull and had caught the sails. Haida warriors lowered a dugout canoe onto the water, the men recklessly following after it.

Time to go. “Dani?”

She got the
Windfall
turned about, taking advantage of a strong crosswind, only to find one of their sister ships on fire. Arrows had fouled up the trebuchet's launching mechanism, and its basket of flames had spilled out across the deck.

Dani steered the
Windfall
as close as she dared, and two of the crew dove into the water and swam toward them. When the first one got close, Mitch leaned out and helped him on board. Tom, sputtering and coughing.

“Dad, hurry!” Eddie pointed at the Haida dugout speeding toward them.

Shit.

The other man was still a ways out. Mitch slung the life preserver toward him, and he hooked an arm through it. That would have to be good enough.

“Dani, get us out of here.”

She'd maneuvered the
Windfall
into the wind so they'd slow down enough to help the other crew, but she'd sacrificed their momentum in the process. Now they were in irons. Dead in the water. But not for long.

The scariest thing about being in irons was that you had to go backward in order to get moving again. It felt unnatural, like you weren't in control and losing ground, but really it was the boat and the wind setting everything back to rights again.

“Dani, you need to—”

“Back wind to port!” she cried out.

Eddie was already moving, swinging the boom to port before Mitch could do anything. Then they waited. The silence on board the
Windfall
was interrupted by chants as the dugout closed in on them.

A few boat lengths away and gaining. “High-dah. High-dah.”

Mitch tried to ignore their cries as the sails slowly filled, pushing the Windfall backward, but ultimately around.

Eddie brought the boom back over the centerline, tightening up the mainsail and adjusting the jib so they could take full advantage of the wind and outpace the bastards. Dani, hunkered down in the cockpit, already had them back on course and picking up speed. All without his help.

“Dad, watch out!” Eddie cried.

Mitch spun about. He caught a Haida war club in the chest, knocking him back over the jack line.

Eddie helped him up. “You okay?”

He'd have a wicked bruise but . . . “I'll live.”

Mitch glanced back. Thankfully, they'd finally outstripped the dugout and were out of range of their weapons. In the distance, the Haida's schooner blazed higher, wood creaking and popping, backlighting the warriors' canoe, still tailing them. At least there was that.

Working together, Mitch, Eddie, and Tom managed to haul in the life preserver. Thankfully Harrison had managed to hold on as the
Windfall
surged forward. He clung to the railing as he cleared his lungs of seawater, then straightened. He whooped for joy at the sight of the flaming schooner and kissed the inside of his wrist, where his “H” brand lay.

Mitch's own wrist itched. The kids would have gotten theirs months ago if it weren't for him and his refusal to take what was offered. Maybe they'd been going against the wind for too long. Dani kept them pointed toward land. As the Kachemak Bay came into view, it didn't feel like they were going backward.

It felt a little like they were finally coming home.

*   *   *

With the schooner lost, only a dozen Haida warriors survived. They refused to speak, but the anger buried in their eyes told them they understood Dixon's pronouncements that they'd be allowed to live so long as they pledged never again to plunder the Alaskan coast.

“You would let them go without a verbal agreement?” Tom hissed.

“Better to let them slink home with tales of this battle than to silence them forever.” Dixon lifted a shoulder. “That way they'll know what it'll cost them to return here.”

Mitch rubbed his chin. “If this didn't cripple them, then we must hope it'll force them south to other targets. Make them someone else's problem.”

“You think it'll be enough?” Tom asked.

Dixon gave him a grim nod. “If not, we'll be ready.”

by
M. T. Reiten