Broken Tide | Book 3 | Maelstrom

by Richardson, Marcus

  "If they actually have ammo for it...I'm willing to bet these jokers are part of that group that hit the sheriff up north. I think we got us a big problem, missy."

  The massive trucks rolled by her house and continued on their way as the man with the loudspeaker repeated his message again. The soldiers took note of the bullet holes that peppered the front of her house but didn't leave the road. They chatted amiably with each other and casually followed the trucks. It took a few agonizing moments for the trucks to plod down the road, but eventually the sound of their engines diminished to a muted rumble and then the post-tsunami silence descended on Cami’s house once more.

  She checked the street to make sure no more trucks had entered the neighborhood, then unlocked the front door. "Everybody, stay inside. I'm just gonna go out and take a look." She stepped out, then walked around the bushes to the driveway and stood there to watch the strange procession as it worked its way north through the neighborhood and around the corner.

  There was a bit of a traffic jam when the giant armored truck reached the narrow one-lane bridge that crossed the creek just around the corner from her house, but after some consultation with the soldiers on the ground, the big truck eventually squeezed across. The smaller truck—still massive in its own right—likewise was able to just barely fit across the bridge. Eventually, with one last look down the street, the soldiers turned and followed. Once on the other side of the bridge, the man with the loudspeaker resumed his call for citizens to provide supplies. The little convoy continued around the corner before it disappeared from sight.

  Cami blinked and looked across the road. Harriet stood on her front step, just barely visible down the long, landscaped driveway. She wore a robe and clutched at her chest as she peered around and watched the military vehicles disappear. She caught Cami looking at her and offered a slight wave.

  Cami frowned, but couldn't help herself. She offered a wave back, then watched as Harriet awkwardly wrapped the robe even tighter around herself and disappeared back into her house.

  It was the first direct contact Cami’d had with Harriet since the attack. While there was no proof that Harriet was directly responsible for the attack, Cami knew the woman was up to something. She was one of the executive board members—or maybe the new leader of the HOA, Cami couldn't figure out what had happened—and the HOA had been responsible for the ham-fisted attempt at supply confiscation. That unpleasant business had directly caused the firefight.

  Cami frowned and put her hands on her hips. The HOA confiscation program was no different from what the National Guard just proclaimed, only the Guard had a lot more weapons, and presumably a lot more men, all trained and ready to act...where Harriet and HOA found thugs to do their dirty work.

  Cami scratched her head, gave one last look down the road, then turned and returned to her house. She still hadn't figured out who the men were that had attacked, or why they'd been with the HOA reps.

  Either way, the National Guard presented a threat that was much more real and substantial than anything the homeowners association could ever hope to pose.

  "Well? Satisfied that they ain't real?" Marty asked over the radio.

  "You sure do watch me a lot," Cami said with a twist of her mouth.

  Marty laughed. "I'm an old man, that's all I can do."

  Cami stepped inside the house and shut the door again. The others bombarded her with questions, but she raised her hand for peace. "Guys, there's not much to tell. Whatever's going on out there—you heard the announcement. The National Guard is here, and they're not looking to help us, they're looking to steal from us. That guy in the truck out there said they’d be back to collect everything at sundown, and if we didn't have our food out on the porch..."

  Mia shook her head. "I can't believe that they would break into houses and take stuff from people. Don't they know how much people are suffering?" Mia blushed and looked down. "Well, I mean not us...but most people," she added.

  Cami patted her on the shoulder as she walked into the kitchen. "It's all right. And I agree—something's not right. The National Guard shouldn’t be going around stealing food from people that are already on the edge of starvation. They should be the ones out there delivering food to us."

  “Are these the ones...are they the ones who attacked Rolling Hills?” Elizabeth asked as she came downstairs. She moved to Gary and wrapped an arm around his waist. “The one’s your friend talked about?”

  "I think Marty's right, something's off about this whole situation," Amber said as she crossed her arms.

  Cami turned and grinned. "Now who's sounding paranoid?"

  Amber didn't respond but stared at Cami. "So, what are we gonna do?"

  "We’re going to be careful, that's what we’re going to do," Cami said as she got herself a glass of water. "My first thought was to just go ahead and comply—put some food out there on the porch. They can take it and be on their way and leave us alone if they're not going to help."

  Mia nodded vigorously. "I think that's a good idea. The last thing we need is to have a bunch of guys with guns—oh, I mean, a bunch of different guys, with bigger guns—show up and try to break down the door. I have a feeling those soldiers wouldn’t mess up like the men who attacked us the first time."

  Cami nodded. "I agree, which is why we need to be careful. We can't put too much stuff out there..."

  Amber took a seat at the table. "Otherwise they’ll know that we have a lot more than everybody else, and may come back and take it all anyway," she said with a sigh of exasperation. "Seriously, this end of the world stuff sucks."

  Cami took another drink of water. "So, we gotta figure out some kind of fine line about what we put out there—and how we put it out there. If we dump a bunch of freeze-dried, prepackaged stuff on the porch, they're going to know a prepper lives here. Then they’ll want everything we have. If we put too little out there, they might get upset and kick in the door thinking we’re trying to hold out on them." She shook her head. "And we only have until sunset to figure it out."

  "What's Marty going to do?" asked Amber.

  Cami nodded, pulled the radio to her mouth and posed the question. His response was immediate. "That's easy, I ain’t doing squat. They're not getting anything for me. One look at my house oughtta tell ‘em there ain't much worth having here."

  Cami sighed. "Marty, one look at your house and they'll know that somebody took the time to repair it, so someone lives there. That, to me, screams there’s enough valuable stuff there that they actually spent time and effort to repair it."

  After a long moment, Marty returned to the radio. "Yeah, you might be right. Dadgum it."

  "So, we still don't know what we’re going to do?" asked Mia.

  Cami crossed her arms and leaned against the sink. "Oh, we’ll do something—but we better do it quick, because they’ll be back before long. We'll just have to do our best and hope they leave us alone. But as a precaution, I suggest when we noticed them coming around again, we take everybody out to the woods and hide."

  "What about making some caches like Marty suggested earlier?" Amber asked.

  “I don’t know about that...digging holes is what gave me away,” Elizabeth said.

  "I agree,” Cami added. “Now might be a good time to do it—but let's not dig any holes in the backyard. Let's go out into the tree line and make holes out there. It'll be a lot easier to hide our tracks with leaves and branches and stuff."

  “That could work...” Elizabeth mused.

  "Me and the boys can figure out good spots to hide things, and I can make a map..." Mia suggested. “Could you help?” she asked Elizabeth. “You’re the only one with any experience at this...”

  Elizabeth smiled. “Of course.”

  "Excellent idea," Cami said. She stepped forward and placed both hands on the kitchen table. "Okay everyone, let's do this.”

  Chapter 21

  Camp Echo

  Port Jefferson, New York

  The plume of white s
moke in the distance made Reese grin. The first shouts of alarm happened when the white smoke turned black, and Reese turned away to hide his smile. The plan was working perfectly. In a matter of minutes, soldiers and civilians alike ran toward the fire. Everyone shouted at once and called out orders or warnings.

  Reese turned and walked with the flow of people for a moment, then quickly spun around the corner of a tent and left the others behind. He ran to the far end of the barracks tent and found himself only a few blocks from the dock where they’d been forced to tie up Tiberia and Intrepid.

  He checked for soldiers, then darted across one side street after another until he was only a block from the dock. He could smell the saltwater and the ever-present sickly-sweet reek of decaying vegetation along a shore.

  He looked around and was about to make his way to the boats when he spotted Jo, Byron, and Libby as they worked their way down the main road. Reese changed course and walked over to them. “Libby! Are you okay?”

  The older woman smiled, a thin, wan excuse for the bright toothy smile she usually offered. “I’m fine…where’s Tony?”

  Reese met Byron’s eyes. “He’s working on his part of the plan,” he said as he stepped aside to let a soldier run by. “I think we got their attention.”

  “Come on, let’s get the boats and get out of here.”

  “But, Tony—” Libby started.

  “He’s fine,” Byron said.

  Reese nodded. “We’ll meet him on the coast in a few hours.”

  “Come on, dear,” Byron said gently as he pulled Libby toward the boats. “He’s a big boy and we have a lot of work to do before we can meet him.”

  Jo grinned at Reese. She showed him an olive-drab satchel, twice the size of the bag she’d brought from Mount Desert Island. “Lookie here!”

  “The docs let you have all that?” Reese asked as he peered in the open bag and spotted scissors, bandages, little vials of antibiotics and a dozen other items he couldn’t readily identify. “That’s a lot of stuff…”

  “I’ll say,” Jo quipped. “They didn’t let me just have it, but when we told them the plan they smiled and looked the other way.”

  Reese put his arm out to stop Jo. “You told them the plan? The doctors who…they’re with the National Guard…and you told them?”

  “Well, yeah,” Jo said and looked at him askance. “How else did you think we were gonna get her out of that hospital tent?”

  Reese watched Byron and Libby work their way slowly down to the dock. The two guards on duty walked forward with a bored look on their faces and prepared to stop them. “Come on, we need to catch up.” He’d deal with the ramifications of Jo’s confession later—or they all would when the doctors betrayed them.

  “…don’t care what they said, we can’t let you on the boats,” one of the guards told Byron as Reese and Jo reached them.

  “What? Captain Marsters said—“ began Byron.

  “Well, Major Robertson gave me my orders, so Captain Marsters can go pound sand,” snapped the guard.

  “Now look, we don’t know what’s going on, but you can’t be here,” his partner said a little more amiable. “There’s a fire or something over on the east side of the base,” he added as he pointed. “It’s not safe—“

  “But—“ began Libby.

  “No buts!” The first guard said. He used his weapon to cross check Byron and Libby and force them back. The second soldier followed suit and blocked Jo and Reese.

  “Alright, alright,” Reese said, his hands up. “Come on, guys, let’s head back to the barracks.”

  “That’s the safest thing you can do right now,” the second soldiers said with a grim smile.

  The others followed him reluctantly, but once they were out of earshot, Reese pulled them behind the first tent. “Look, we have to get past those soldiers…”

  “No kidding?” Byron snapped. “How do you propose we do that?”

  “I only saw two,” Reese began.

  “Everyone else seems to be preoccupied with the fire,” Libby said weakly.

  To put emphasis on her words, a tornado siren spun up and wailed over the entire camp. The eerie, undulating squeal sent prickles of ice water down Reese’s spine.

  “What the heck did you do?” asked Jo.

  “I…may have used a microwave…to start a fire…” Reese admitted. “But in my defense, I didn’t realize the quartermaster was hoarding toilet paper…” he added quickly.

  “What?” asked Libby, her face blank. “The doctors said they had people outside the camp complaining there was no toilet paper left on Long Island…”

  “Oh…” Reese said as he squinted at the thick pillar of black smoke that rose in the distance. “There was a lot…” He turned away from the fire and glanced at the dock. “Look, Byron, now’s our chance. They’ve moved to end of the dock.”

  “So?” he asked.

  “So…we can sneak up behind them now…they’re practically on the street. Look.”

  “And do what?” asked Byron as he peeked around the corner. “They have guns, Reese.”

  “Which won’t do them any good in the water. Look at all the gear they’re wearing. They’ll be too busy trying to stay on the surface to shoot us.”

  The tornado siren wailed, and the Doppler effect made the sound grow fainter, then louder as the siren itself rotated in the distance somewhere out of sight.

  Reese grabbed Byron on the shoulder. "We gotta do it now—follow me!" He didn't wait to see if the older man followed him but charged ahead. Reese sprinted around the corner and ran as fast as he could toward the two soldiers who stood where the dock met the street. He worked his way around a stack of crates that lined the wharf and leapt out onto the wooden planks. He was still a few strides away from the men when one turned to look over his shoulder.

  "What—” he began, but never finished his question.

  Reese slammed into him at full speed and grunted under the impact. The guard soared out over the water and hit with a splash and a yell.

  By the time Reese recovered from his collision, the other soldier had spun and raised his rifle. "Freeze!" he snapped.

  Then Byron was behind him and swung a piece of broken lumber he'd picked up next to the pile of crates. The wood cracked into the side of the soldier’s helmet. He doubled over in a shower of splinters and grunted in pain. Reese flinched in the opposite direction of the soldier’s weapon just as it fired. Byron stepped back, his face red, and dropped the board.

  As it clattered to the ground, Reese reached out with both hands and grabbed hold of the soldiers’ load bearing vest. He spun himself toward the water, and the momentum threw the heavier man off balance. He yelled for help and let go of the ungainly weapon in his hands in an attempt to grab Reese. Byron added his body to the press, and the second soldier joined the first with a splash in the harbor.

  While the two soldiers thrashed in the water and screamed for help, Reese and Byron returned to Libby and Jo, who were already halfway to the boats. The four of them made a boarding plank and got Libby aboard Tiberia, then Jo and Reese hopped over the railing and sprinted for Intrepid.

  "What have they done to my boat?" screamed Byron from Tiberia’s helm.

  Reese didn't have time to find out. He hopped the railing aboard Intrepid and immediately loosened the ropes that kept them tied to the dock. “Jo, get the bow line up front!” he called as he tossed the aft line back over to the dock.

  While Byron continued to bellow at the soldiers for desecrating his beloved boat, Reese and Jo pulled the roughhewn gangplank aboard and pushed off from the dock. Despite the fact that he worked by himself, Byron was only a few seconds behind them in shoving away.

  The commotion ashore continued unabated as even more people emptied tents all around them and ran toward the billowing smoke on the eastern side of the camp. No one bothered to look at the two small sailboats in the harbor. The towering pillar of smoke that rose into the clear sky was a beacon that attracted every
one in the camp. A few soldiers paused and stared at the sailboats as they broke free of the dock, but they were caught up in the press of people running to the far side of the base and soon forgot about the boats.

  Reese still felt like he had a target between his shoulder blades, so he kept low at the helm and kicked the engine to life. He risked a glance back at the chaotic scene and grinned as Tiberia came about under power and slipped into Intrepid’s wake.

  "Dadgum, I don't believe it—we actually pulled that off!" Jo hooted. She frowned then and looked past Reese toward the dock as they motored out into the harbor. "I sure hope somebody comes along and helps those two boys out of the water. They ain’t gonna last much longer with all that gear…”

  Reese glanced over his shoulder again. "I do too—I didn't want to kill anybody…but we couldn’t let them hold us here any longer, either."

  He half-turned and spotted Tiberia, a few boat lengths behind them. "Looks like Byron’s got Tiberia underway just fine."

  "He’s bragged about being a master sailor long enough,” Jo said as she moved toward the front of Intrepid. "What I wanna know is what were they thinking by adding a freaking machine gun to the front of this thing?"

  Reese blinked. In the haste to untie the boat and escape the National Guard camp, he hadn't taken time to survey Intrepid and make sure she was seaworthy. Jo was right—just in front of the main mast a rough circle had been hacked into the decking and steel rings installed to support a turret.

  "Looks like they pulled that thing off one of those trucks of theirs…” Reese said.

  Jo climbed into the turret and spun left and right to test the maneuvering mechanism. “It’s an M2 Browning…and she spins easy as eatin’ pancakes. Fifty cal…these boys ain’t playing around.” Jo climbed out of the turret and poked around the boxes strapped to the deck. "We got a couple ammo cans up here, too…”

  Reese frowned. "You want to go below and see what else they changed? I want to make sure we’re not gonna sink as soon as we get out of the harbor."