Chapter 13
With dawn’s arrival, a renewed energy filled the air. The crew awoke to a transformed world – crisp air, a clear sky, and a landscape refreshed by the storm’s cleansing rain.
After resupplying at Whitey’s, Remy was in his element. The aroma of sizzling bacon and freshly brewed coffee mingled with the earthy scents of the river. The crew, their tired muscles finding rejuvenation in the new day, gathered around the fire pit. Breakfast was more than a meal; it was a celebration of survival. Sarah, feeling much fresher, brewed her favorite herb tea, its calming fragrance filling the air. Everett, as was his morning ritual, unfolded his map and meticulously planned the day’s paddle.
“Alright, folks,” he called out, “Today’s another crucial leg. We’ll be heading towards the entrance of Renegade Bayou.”
Their goal was a towering cypress, one of the many silent sentinels guarding the riverbanks. Everett continued, “We need to look out for this sentinel on river left. It marks our exit from the Cypress Sentinel River into the bayou’s winding waterways. It should have a weathered signpost.”
Maggie, taking a hearty bite of bacon, replied, “You get us close, Everett, and we’ll keep a sharp eye. No sentinel can hide from us!”
Amidst bites of bacon, hot biscuits, eggs, and sips of coffee, the crew exchanged morning banter, their spirits lifted by the hearty meal. The tents came down, gear was packed efficiently, and laughter echoed as they shared tales of the storm-drenched previous day.
The Sentinel Cypress River unfurled before the Posse like a lush, green ribbon, its current carrying them steadily towards Renegade Bayou. Unbeknownst to them, the river’s tranquility concealed a hidden threat.
As the Posse navigated a secluded stretch of the river, Riley’s keen eyes spotted a Jon boat with two men emerging from the shadows. The men, pretending innocence, motored towards them with forced smiles and casual greetings. The bayou’s serenity was disrupted by an undercurrent of tension.
Riley, the astute curator of the Timucua Exhibit, recognized one of the men from a dubious museum encounter. A shiver of concern ran down her spine as they approached, their intentions masked by feigned curiosity.
The poachers, Hank and Judd, intercepted the Posse. Hank, a weathered man with a shady grin, greeted them. “Well, howdy there, folks! Beautiful day on the river, ain’t it?”
Riley narrowed her eyes. “What brings you out here? This isn’t exactly a popular spot for casual boaters.”
Judd, the silent partner, added, “Oh, we heard about this stunning river from a friend. Said there might be some rare bird sightings.”
Maggie, skeptical, crossed her arms. “Rare birds, huh? This isn’t exactly a tourist hotspot. What are you really doing out here?”
Hank chuckled nervously. “Oh, just enjoying nature, you know? Nothing to worry about.”
Riley’s recognition was sharp. She looked over at Everett and whispered, “I’ve seen that guy before. He tried selling Timucua artifacts to the museum. These folks are up to no good.”
Everett, feeling the tension, whispered to the crew, “Stay alert. Something’s off about these folks.” He echoed Riley’s concern.
Unease settled over the encounter, a silent clash between the Posse’s genuine quest and the poachers’ sinister intentions.
As they continued down the river, the Posse let some distance accrue between them and the Jon boat. Everett checked his map and announced, “We’re approaching a side branch on river left. It might be a good spot for a break and discussion away from prying eyes.”
The crew agreed, steering their canoes towards the branch. The riverbank was adorned with Virginia Willow and Saw Palmetto, providing natural cover. Unbeknownst to them, the poachers had silently followed, entering the same cove.
Once in the secluded area, Everett gathered the team for a hushed discussion. “We need to address the poachers before entering Renegade Bayou. They can’t compromise our mission.”
Then, once again the poachers confronted the crew. “So what brings y’all way out here?”
Riley, with authority, spoke up. “I know who you are and what you’re after.”
“We don’t want trouble Ma’am, but if you get in our way, you’ll find out just how serious we can be.” Hank’s hand rested on a concealed weapon.
Riley pointed to Hank, “We’ve met before, and I’m sure you remember the circumstances.” Her heart raced as the threat of violence lingered in the air.
The men, caught off guard, exchanged uneasy glances. Riley continued, “Here’s how this is going to go. You turn around, or continue on downriver, and forget you ever saw us. If we see you again, I’ll call the Florida Wildlife Commission. Commissioner Farrior won’t take kindly to poachers disrupting ancient tribal sites.”
The threat of legal consequences weighed heavily. Reluctantly, the men agreed to abandon their pursuit. The Posse watched as they motored away, leaving the cove and boating down river.
With the immediate threat averted, the crew felt a shared sense of accomplishment. The mysteries of Renegade Bayou still loomed, but they were now more vigilant and determined to navigate the challenges ahead.
~ Chapter 12 : The Storms Embrace ~ Chapter 14 : Tom’s Timucua Connection ~