Crescent Island - Lucky Break

Posted on Tue Jun 3rd, 2025 @ 9:22pm by New York Survivor Briar Maddox & New York Survivor John ("Dodger") Smith & New York Survivor George Brooks

2,802 words; about a 14 minute read

Mission: Safe Harbor
Location: Crescent Island
Timeline: September 16th Afternoon

After they had dragged the bodies to the sea, Briar looked up the beach and there, sitting on the beach, pulled up by the now deceased, was a obviously military refitted commercial fishing vessel, the name had been scratched out and painted over. It read "LUCKY BREAK".

Briar took a breath and looked around. No one else. The pair had been alone. "Look at all that space" she said softly. "Way more than our little fishing boat."

Dodger stopped alongside her and let out a low whistle. "That thing is huge. I wonder if it's loaded with supplies as well."

Briar looked at the others. "I bet. And if its doable, I can pilot the fishing boat and you both can take this one!"

Dodger nodded. "Will this thing be able to dock once we get back or will we have to anchor it offshore near the sunken military ships?"

George looked over the larger boat, then nods. "It won't fit in the boat house, but it should fit against the pier. Of course, we will need to decide what to do with it as a group."

"Well, it's going to be an attention getter for sure but as you said what we do with it can be decided later." Dodger replied as he continued to eyeball the ship.

Briar rubbed her hands together. "You both go and bring it around to our boat, I will start bringing the bags of fruit down to the beach."

"Right, will do. Come on George let's get over to our boat. You know with this boat; we have the makings of a nice little fleet." Dodger joked.

Dodger climbed onto the boat and headed for the wheelhouse; he turned and looked back at George. "If those guys weren't lying, we should find plenty of stuff we can use back at Safe Harbor. Where do you want to start?"

Without waiting for George's reply, he started looking about the wheelhouse to see if there was anything they could use. There was a hook that was big a sturdy, it could be used as a weapon, He found a map of the surrounding islands. As he continued to search, he moved to wheel and sat in the chair directly behind it. "This is so good." He whispered and placed his hands on the panel behind the wheel, his fingers brushing something hard and cold. Getting up for a closer kook he pulled on the object and froze. His widening at what he saw. It was a revolver, a 22 he inspected it and there were three rounds still in it. He stuck it in his waistband. "We can use this," he muttered as he continued to search.

George moved down below, going to check the engines. When he squeezed into the cramped engine compartment, he shook his head with disappointment. The bay was a mess, and the engines looked like they hadn't been properly cared for for weeks.

His inspection took him nearly thirty minutes. When he was finished, he knew that, while the boat could work for them now, he would have to either spend the next few months tearing down and rebuilding the engines...or just use the boat as a source of spare parts for their other two boats.

Reemerging topside, he saw Dodger sitting behind the controls. "What did you find up here?"

"A chart with the other islands and what is on them, This radio that has power and this," He held up the 22. "It has three rounds still in it. What did you find below?"

George reached out and took hold of the pistol, checking that all of the necessary parts moved as they should. He then handed it back. "Be careful with it. A .22 won't do much to stop an attacker, except piss them off. It would be better as a small game hunting weapon." He moved to the controls, and powered up everything. "If this boat makes it back to our island, it'll be a miracle. You and Briar should go back on our boat, while i pilot this back."

Dodger took the pistol back and stuck it in his waistband. "I don't plan on using it at all. Just something to have if it comes to needing it. "I'll put it up and out of sight of the younger ones."

He balked at George's idea of going back to their boat. "Are you sure? I don't like leaving you on this thing."

George nodded. "They didn't take care of this boat. The engine bay is disgusting and, if I can't get it cleaned up properly, back at our pier, I'll have to end up using this boat for spare parts." He took a breath, then added, "Also, as I'm the one with an actual boating license, I'd feel more comfortable with you two on our boat, than this hulk."

Dodger nodded, "Alright, that makes sense to me. I don't like but I understand your reasoning. I'll go back and get with Briar on our boat. Is there anything else you want to explore on this boat before I go back to Briar?

George thought about it, then shook his head. "No, the rest of the search can wait till we get back home." He tilted his head towards the way they had come. "Go ahead and go help Briar. I'll get this tub over to our side of the island."

Dodger nodded, "Alright, I'll see you over there. Don't get lost or worse have this tub sink."

George nodded. "Knock on wood," he said, gently rapping his knuckles on the side of his head. "I'll see you two over there. Then, after Dodger left the boat, he gently powered up the engines and started to slowly steam around the island.


==

POV: Briar

The orchard thinned as she pushed eastward, her boots crunching on fallen fruit and brittle branches. The air was heavy with the sour-sweet stink of rotting pears, but something else rode beneath it—musk, warm earth, old fur.

She paused near a gnarled citrus tree, one hand tightening on her spear.
There. A noise.

Not a branch breaking, not the scratch of a goat hoof.

A whine.

She crouched low, scanning the underbrush near the edge of the collapsed greenhouse. Twisted metal jutted from the earth like ribs. Beneath one beam, a hollow had been dug out—leaves, shredded tarp, and the curled shapes of something alive.

A shape moved. Then another.

Two large dogs emerged, almost silently—one black-and-tan, the other sable gray. German Shepherds. Real ones. Eyes bright, legs tense, breath low and careful. Not wild. Not tame either. Watching her.
Briar froze. Didn't breathe.

The black-and-tan—the female—edged forward, placing herself squarely between Briar and the den. Her lips didn’t curl, but her ears were back, and her shoulders were stiff.

Then—another whine. Tiny, muffled.

Pups.

Briar’s heart hammered in her chest. “Well, shit,” she whispered.

She dropped her eyes—not her head—and slowly crouched, spear lowered but not dropped. Her fingers reached into her side pouch and pulled out the last strip of jerky she’d been saving. She laid it down gently in the dirt between them.

The sable male growled low in his throat. Not loud. Not a threat. A warning.

“I’m not here to hurt them,” she murmured. “Or you.”

The female sniffed the air, but didn’t move. The pups stayed hidden, soft sounds slipping from the hollow—whimpers, tiny barks.

Briar slowly backed up a few steps and sat on a flat stone, still within sight. She didn’t leave. Didn’t press.

She waited.

After ten minutes, the female padded forward and took the jerky.

It was a start.

She didn’t move for a long time. Let the wind shift. Let the dogs get used to her scent.

The black-and-tan female—Kira, she decided—sniffed where the jerky had been, then returned to the den, disappearing into the hollow. A few seconds later, soft yips broke the silence, followed by the rhythmic sound of suckling. The pups were still feeding.

Briar stayed seated, one hand resting on her knee, the other still near her pouch. She didn’t pull more food yet. Didn’t want to spook them.

The male—Brutus now, in her mind—watched her with heavy eyes. Still tense, but less so. His ears weren’t flat anymore. When she slowly reached into her pouch again, he didn’t growl this time.

She laid down a second strip of jerky.

Then stood.

Carefully. Slowly.

She didn’t turn her back on them, but she did back away a few paces, then circled around a wide arc, putting herself on the trail leading back toward the ridge. The light was fading—she didn’t want to be out here much longer. But if she left now, completely, they’d stay behind.

So she made a choice.

She knelt again in clear sight. Opened her canteen. Poured a little water into a shallow depression in a mossy rock.

And then, without a word, she stood... and began walking slowly back towards the beach.

Not running. Not looking back. Just moving steady.

Behind her, she heard the soft shuffle of paws.

Then another.

When she rounded the bluff and glanced back?

Brutus was standing where she’d knelt—watching. Kira was a few paces behind him, the three pups tumbling over one another in the brush, squeaking softly.

They weren’t coming close.

But they were following.

And that was enough.

Briar silently headed for the cove where the fishing boat was docked with their newest acquisition and prayed the boys had, had time to get the Hives down to the boats.

Getting there she spotted that there was no one there. Bags of fruit and planks of wood from their scavenging were piled up. She hoped George brought the other boat around as it would be able to hold the Hives and the supplies and... their new friends.

She gently placed some more food down beside the supplies, but far enough so they would not get scared then, she pulled her sleeves down and collar up to go start bringing the bee hives down to the beach.

After leaving George to deal with the bigger boat, Dodger went back to find Briar. he trudged up the slope and as he came over it, he saw her, heading for the bee hives. "Briar." He shouted not too loudly because behind her were two large dogs and three pups and he didn't want to spook the dogs into attacking Briar.

He picked up his pace to get to her, again wary of the dogs. As he got closer he began to talk. "George is going to take the boat back to Safe Harbor, he wants us in the smaller boat. He said the big boat will only be good for spare parts. He will meet us at your/our boat."

Briar nodded. "Found those dogs. We will need that boat for transporting all these things though first." She carefully examined the base of the hive she had reached. "If we move slowly, we should be able to get them down to the beach. The fourth is fully empty, so it should go first." She motioned to the one on its side.

Dodger glanced at the dogs who returned his look and silently appraised him. "We found lots of stuff we can use, maps, charts, a radio that works, Fuel drums, water drums, salted fish a lot of salted fish. A medical kit and lots more." he stopped and looked at the hive, "Let's do this."

Briar nodded and then she paused. "I want to dig out some of the smaller trees. Amy will know when and where to plant them. They can join those trees she said are fruit trees on our island. But,, they might not fit.."

"We'll dig out the trees once we get the hives moved. down to the beach." Dodger replied, "As for not fitting, we'll cross that bridge when we get to it. As you said ask Amy."

Briar nodded and began to move a hive. She carried it slowly, ignoring the bees that were flitting around her as she moved it.

Dodger looked the hives over, he wasn't all that crazy about carrying one but the honey would come in handy for the group. Taking a deep breath, he slowly picked up a hive and followed Briar down the path to their boat as the bees swarmed around him but didn't attack.

As they worked together, Briar kept an eye on the horizon as she was not going to let people sneak up on them. They had the three full hives at the beach beside the fishing boat and the fourth hive was beside them.

Briar did a list. "Four hives, three full, one empty," She glanced towards the five dogs where the two parents kept silent watch. "Mint plants, Rosemary," She said, as she placed a damp sank beside the hives. "Three bags of Apples, two of Oranges, and two of pears. One roll of chicken wire, five planks of wood." Then she hefted the shovel. "I have some small trees to dig out. George should be here soon." She said pointing to where the boat was coming around the point of the island.

"A good haul to be sure" Dodger remarked. "I'll get it all loaded while you dig up the trees you want. If I finish in time, I'll come up and help you dig or carry the trees down to the boat."

Briar nodded and headed up to dig up the small trees she had mentally selected.

Dodger waited for George to bring the boat in close so they could get everything loaded and squared away for the trip back to Safe Harbor.

The other boat was smoking from its exhaust ports, signaling the poor condition that the engines were in. George was careful in how hard he pushed the craft, taking nearly thirty minutes to bring it around and up next to Briar's boat. As he neared, he tossed a lead line to Dodger, so he could lash the two boats together, starboard to port. George carefully brought the boat in, ensuring the bumpers he had put out over the port side, lined up against Briar’s starboard side. "Okay, tie her off!" He put the engines into idle while he waited for Dodger to finish.

Grabbing the line, Dodger worked on securing the two boats together. It took a few minutes but when he was finished the two boats were secured. "All done!" He shouted back to George. "Boats are secure."

tag George and Briar

Briar came back down the hill carrying two small fruit trees. "Hey!" She called out as the Boys loaded the boats. "Two plum trees, I have two apples and two orange dug up as well."

"That's great. We'll have our own little nursery in no time with these fruit trees." Dodger observed as he took a brief break from loading.

"Yes and with the bees, pollination of those trees we already have will be better." Briar put the two trees down, and walked back up, stopping to let the two adult dogs shyly sniff her hand. Then she moved on to grab the other trees.

About an hour later, they had loaded all their new found goodies, and the dogs had led their pups onto the fishing boat at Briar's gentle coaxing.

Dodger had gotten onto the fishing boat after getting the trees situated. That done he softly talked to the dogs especially the puppies as they sniffed him, taking in his scent as they crawled over his legs, yipping as they did.

Briar looked back at the island. "If we have enough fuel we may come back one day" She said as she pushed the fishing boat back and climbed aboard.

She looked at George and said "Lead on!"

Dodger smiled down at the puppies then looked over to Briar. "I think your new found friends are going to be a great addition to the group along with the fruit trees ."

Looking at the steel-colored clouds on the horizon, George spoke as he started to untie the two boats. "Let's get back before that storm sets in." He then set his course back to their new home and slowly set off into the Sound.

Briar carefully piloted the fishing boat behind him.

For his part, Dodger sat quietly as he took in all the supplies they had found and were bringing back to the island. He looked at the puppies crawling over his legs and then to their parents. The dogs would be invaluable in providing both protection and security for the group.

 

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