And then it was over.
Residents from the neighborhood emerged from the trees where they had circled around and flanked the soldiers, and in a matter of seconds the gunfire near the Westin house tapered off and ceased all together. Every man in camouflage threw his weapon down and raised his hands.
Gary emerged from the far side of the road and took charge of rounding up prisoners. Amber rushed to Cami’s side and helped pull her from under the deck. Cami got to her feet and brushed the mud and dirt and twigs off of her pants and enveloped her daughter in a bear hug. They laughed and cried at the same time.
"We did it!" Gary said. "I don't believe it, but we did it!"
Several of the residents raised their weapons in the air and fired celebratory shots into the clear sky.
On the other side of the neighborhood, Cami heard the echo of rapid gunfire back and forth—the battle at the second entrance continued unabated.
Cami saw to it that the prisoners behind the house were clumped together and put under guard, then she grabbed her rifle from the ground where she'd left it and cautiously made her way to the front.
Of the cluster of a half-dozen men who'd jumped out of the troop transport and tried to bum rush the barricade, only one man remained. He stood with his hands in the air, blood splattered all over his legs and chest and his mouth trembled. He dropped to his knees and placed his hands behind his head as several residents emerged from behind the smoking cars and came out of the house across the street.
Cami leaned against the house and pulled the radio from her belt. She dusted some dirt off and flicked away a moldy leaf, then brought it to her mouth. "Flynt, you there?"
After a long moment and some more gunfire in the distance, he replied. "Yeah—we’re here...takin’ heavy fire, but we’re here. How is it on your side?"
"We got ‘em!” Cami exhaled. “We beat them back! Taking prisoners now," she said.
Cami knew as soon as she heard the big armored truck shift gears that they’d left a golden opportunity in the open and the enemy had seized it. She spun and raised her weapon, but it was too late. The driver had slammed the door and despite the white smoke that puffed out through the turret hatch, whoever had climbed in managed to shift into reverse and back out onto the road.
He spun the wheels and crunched the front and the front corner of the cargo transport, but the armored truck rumbled down the road back toward the second entrance. "They got the truck! They got the freaking armored truck! It's coming back to you, heads up! I'll send all the men I can spare!"
Before she could say anything, volunteers streamed past her and ran toward the second entrance as they chased the armored truck down the road. Mitch sprinted past her and reached the troop transport. Gunfire crackled from the far side of the truck, and Mitch staggered back toward the driver’s side, but kept his rifle aimed toward the rear.
"Mitch!" Gary yelled. He left the prisoners and ran for his son. Cami spun to take over watching the prisoners, but two of them jumped to their feet and ran for the tree line. She raised her rifle to her shoulder and fired one shot. The M-4 barked, and he spread his arms out and swan-dived into the loamy soil. The other man glanced over his shoulder and vanished into the underbrush with a rustle of branches and leaves. Cami swung her rifle back to the two remaining prisoners, both of whom lowered their heads and raise their hands.
"Don't shoot!" one wailed. "I only went with these guys because they forced me! I'm an accountant from Charleston! Please, God, don't shoot!" The man fell flat on his face and his entire body shook as he cried.
Amber appeared at Cami’s side and aimed her rifle at the two men on the ground.
"Keep them covered," Cami growled. She took a knee and removed a section of paracord from the thigh pocket on her cargo pants. She forced the men to hold hands while back to back, then tied the rope as tight as she could around their wrists. Locked together and unable to coordinate movements, the prisoners were secured, and she stood again.
"Listen—you hear that?" Cami asked.
Amber cocked her head. "I don't hear anything."
Cami grinned. "That's right, the gunfire from the other entrance...it stopped." Cami brought the radio back to her mouth. "Flynt! What's going on?"
When the radio broke squelch, she heard cheering and laughter in the background. "We did it! By God, we did it!" Flynt yelled.
Cami stepped around the edge of the house again and peered down the road. The last remaining vehicles the wannabe soldiers possessed executed three-point turns and sped toward the other entrance. Men emerged from the tree line and jumped aboard the trucks, some barely able to hang on as the attackers retreated.
A few parting shots from the upper-story windows of the house behind her echoed down the street, and one man tumbled out of the back of the last truck... and it was over.
Cami rushed through the smoke and cheering residents, crossed the road and approached the captured troop transport. On the other side, she found Gary and Mitch leaning against the truck. Mitch had a bloodied bandage wrapped around his left leg, and Gary held both their weapons.
"Did we win?" Mitch asked, his voice tight and his face pale.
"I think so," Cami said, unable to hide the wide smile that spread across her face. "I think so."
Chapter 27
Bee’s Landing Subdivision
Northwest of Charleston, South Carolina
Darien turned away from the celebration at the second entrance and stormed over to the nearest clump of prisoners. He pushed his way through the guards and grabbed one of the men on his knees by the collar, then roughly hauled him to his feet. Before the captive could protest such rough treatment, Darien pulled his Desert Eagle free of its holster and placed the barrel under the man's chin.
"Who are you with?" he growled.
The man rolled his eyes in fright and blubbered an incomprehensible answer. Darien pushed the barrel tighter into the soft flesh under the man's jaw and repeated his question.
“I don't know, man—I just do what I'm told!"
"Who's in charge of your outfit?"
"The new guy...I never saw him before..." the man quailed.
Darien already knew the answer—the two fake soldiers he and Franks had ambushed in front of Cami Lavelle's house had talked quickly enough. But he needed to independently confirm what he’d been told. And he didn't want to waste time—any second one of the celebrating victors might turn and wonder why he wanted to rough up a prisoner.
"A name! I need a name!" he demanded.
A hand gripped Darien's shoulder. "Easy, man," Spanner said quietly. "We already won...no sense in getting the locals riled up against us for mistreating prisoners."
Darien shrugged out of Spanner's grip and wrapped his hand around the prisoner’s throat. He squeezed as he removed the barrel from the man's jaw and placed it against his forehead. "Give me an answer, or I'll turn your head into a canoe."
"Cisco! Cisco—the guy said his name was Cisco! He walked in a couple days back, shot the CO of my unit and took over! He's crazy! Don't shoot me, please!" the man begged.
"Cisco," Darien muttered. Absently, he released the man and let Spanner put the prisoner back in place with the others. He turned from the group of volunteers and holstered the Desert Eagle. Spanner rejoined him and frowned. "What was that all about?" he demanded in a low voice. "We just helped save this neighborhood, you want to turn them against us?"
Darien looked at Spanner. "I needed to know. I needed to know if those two idiots we interrogated were telling the truth."
"Satisfied now? That psycho really is out there."
Darien turned and watched the smoke drift over the houses from the burning cars at the other entrance. "Yeah, and we’ll have a big problem if he figures out we're part of this neighborhood, and helped defend it."
Spanner blew up his breath between his lips. "I don't think he's gonna be happy that we knocked him back on his heels." He wiped soot and sweat from his face with a dirty rag.
"You think he's gonna be back?"
Darien shook his head. "I know he'll be back." He turned and looked over the remains of their roadblock. The armored truck had nearly broken through before the driver had given up and moved on to the next entrance. If he’d persisted and rammed the barricade one or two more times, Darien was sure the big vehicle would've smashed its way through and reached the neighborhood. He put his hands on his hips and sighed as the smoke drifted around them. Locals mingled with Darien's men and they shook hands and slapped each other on the back, newfound brothers in arms. Comrades.
"What are we going to do?" asked Spanner.
"Lavelle told me they captured the troop transport over at the other entrance," Darien said as he watched the celebration.
"You think we ought to...borrow it and get out of here?"
Darien narrowed his eyes as he watched Franks shake hands with one of the locals—the hotheaded hunter that had argued with Harriet after the HOA meeting. "As bad as things are out there, I think we might have a better shot if we stay right here."
"Yeah, but you know they won’t let you take over this place now," Spanner said. He leaned in to whisper. "Now that they're organized, we don't have a snowballs chance—"
"We might not need to take over. Maybe we can just...I don't know, become part of this place?"
Spanner looked at him, then shook his head and smiled. "These are strange times we’re living in, brother. Strange times."
Darien looked around. “It’s not a bad neighborhood to live in, you know?”
Spanner scoffed at the idea. "What makes you think these people are going to trust us?"
Darien grinned. "What makes you think I want to give them a choice?"
BROKEN TIDE Book 4
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Broken Tide | Book 3 | Maelstrom Page 23
