Broken Tide | Book 6 | Breakwater

by Richardson, Marcus

  Cami could watch the construction efforts all day long. But she didn't have that luxury—not with Cisco lurking in the darkness.

  "Darien's right, honey." Cami said to Amber. "All they had to do was look and listen. They saw the layout of our base. They saw how many people were working, and on what they were working." She shook her head. "Can't believe I didn't think of it before."

  "None of us did—and it's no one's fault," Darien added. "You’d have to be some kind of military commander to be thinking like that. And as far as I know, nobody here’s a guerrilla fighter."

  "There's one," Cami said. “Marty. We’re relying too much on him. He's not going to be around forever," she whispered.

  "Is he still suffering from his injuries?" Darien asked.

  Cami looked up, then glanced around to make sure no one else could hear. "It's his heart. He ran out a medicine right around the time of the tsunami…he doesn’t have much time left. Doesn't matter how injured he was, or how healthy he is. At some point in the next week or two, his heart's just going to give out.” She shook he head.

  “There's nothing anybody can do about it,” Amber added. “He knows it, we know it, and now you know it," she said with a nod toward Darien.

  "I'd like to keep it that way, if possible,” Cami said. “He's the one that gave us almost all of our tactical advice so far." She frowned and looked out at the log wall again. "This was his idea, too. I don’t know what we’re going to do without him…”

  "We’re going to get by, that's what we’re going to do. We’re going to learn and begin to rely on each other. We’re going to survive,” Darien said with finality, as if it were a foregone conclusion.

  “I like to think that, but you saw me talking to Luke," Cami said as she gestured at the former truck driver turned carpenter. "He came to me just now and told me how a couple other guys were thinking about quitting the work and headed back to their own house. They think Cisco's going to come tonight. I don't know who started that rumor, but if I could find out—”

  “Be careful," Darien said quickly. "Don't say something Harriet could use against you."

  Cami sighed, took a deep breath, and exhaled through her nose as she closed her eyes, centering herself. “I’ll tell you one thing I'm grateful for…”

  "Oh?" Amber asked.

  Cami nodded. “This is the first time when something bad has popped up that I haven't told myself, oh…if only Reese were here…”

  Amber put her arm around Cami and squeezed. "We’re not giving up hope," she said.

  "No, of course not—but it's getting harder to hold onto that hope every day."

  "So what are we going to do about the situation?" Darien asked.

  "I didn't know there was much we could do?" Cami countered.

  Darien nodded. "Fair enough. I suppose I'm going to have to pick one side or the other at some point, but until that happens, I still want a crack at Cisco more than anything."

  Cami nodded. "All the rumors swirling around about what we have and what we don't have…about what Cisco's planning, and now we have to deal with Harriet's nonsense…”

  "Sounds like we need to have a group meeting.”

  Darien and Cami looked at Amber. "What?" Amber asked. "May as well just come clean about everything, get it all out in the open—that way you control the narrative."

  "Control the narrative?" Cami asked. "Where’d you learn how to talk like that?"

  “Political science turned out to be one of my favorite classes. The whole psychological aspect of politics is fascinating to me."

  "Okay then, as my political advisor, what would you have us do?" Cami asked with a smile.

  Amber looked at her, then glanced at Darien. “I think you know what I’d suggest."

  Cami looked down. "Oh. That."

  "What you mean, oh, that?" Darien asked.

  "Mom, I think we can trust Darien."

  "Not to toot my own horn," Darien said, "but I did stick my neck out during the hurricane while you were lost in the woods. I kept an eye on things, I made sure Cisco didn't run roughshod over the whole neighborhood. That's gotta count for something, right?"

  “It counts a lot for me," Amber said with a smile.

  "Now you're on his side?"

  Amber looked at Cami. "I'm on the Bee’s Landing side. I don't know what Harriet's doing, and frankly I don't care," Amber said bitterly. "She's an old busybody as far as I'm concerned—”

  “Old?" Darien and Cami said at the same time.

  Amber continued without missing a beat. “No matter what we do, she's gonna try to stir up trouble—I knew people like that back at school. They live for it—they love creating strife and drama. She's nothing but a troll."

  Cami and Darien looked at each other for a moment and blinked. Darien snorted. "Well…if the shoe fits."

  "That still doesn't get any closer to a decision on what we need to do,” Cami said.

  "Ah, that's easy," Amber said. Before Cami could stop her, she continued. "If you just come out and tell everybody that we really do have all those extra supplies and solar panels, then everything will be good."

  Cami closed her eyes and cursed silently.

  Darien blinked. “Wait—what?"

  Chapter 17

  Braaten Forest Preserve

  Northwest of Charleston, South Carolina

  Cisco looked up from his map. "What is it," he growled. Someone pulled back the flap to his tent, and a bright beam of sunlight illuminated the interior, making him blink. Jenkins stood in the opening, silhouetted against the light outside. "You're gonna want to see this." Without waiting for a response, he disappeared.

  Muttering to himself about insolence, Cisco grabbed his pistol and tucked it behind his waistband, then stepped outside. Heat radiated off the gravel parking lot as the sun shone down in a blisteringly blue sky. He put his hand up to shield his eyes, and as they adjusted to the change in light, he saw most of his guards lined up in a path stretching off toward the south. Billy, one of his rougher biker converts, walked forward with a big grin on his bushy face. Behind him, he dragged—literally—another man, who struggled and fought every step.

  The mewling noises coming from the smaller man made Cisco smile as he walked forward, his boots crunching on the gravel. "Well, well, well, if it ain't the prodigal son returned. How's it hanging Billy?"

  "Brought you a present, boss," Billy said proudly. He grunted, then gave a mighty shove and his ‘present’ tumbled forward on hands and knees in front of Cisco.

  Cisco looked down and waited for the smaller man to stop whimpering about the bruises and cuts on his palms as he got to his feet. Porter Martin, one of the more recent recruits from the interstate, looked at him and wiped sweat and dirt from his face with a bloodied hand.

  “H-hi…boss…” he said as if he'd forgotten how to address Cisco.

  Through his peripheral vision, Cisco saw other people gathering outside the perimeter of guards. The reunion was to be a spectacle. So be it. "Where you been?" Cisco asked friendly enough.

  "We…me and Billy…we were out on patrol, just like you told us—we got—” he turned and looked at Billy, who stared at him impassively, massive arms crossed over his barrel chest.

  "Hey," Cisco said gently, "I'm over here."

  The smaller man blinked rapidly, and stared at Cisco, taking a half step back. "We got captured…” he said quietly. The ripple of gasps and mutterings from the crowd made Cisco smile.

  "What happened?" Cisco asked. "Who did this?"

  "It was…it was the people at Bee’s Landing!" He turned as more mutterings seem to buoy him up before Cisco. "They caught us out in the woods, see? Dragged us into their base!”

  Cisco glanced at Billy, who nodded in affirmation. "Go on," Cisco replied.

  Martin spoke in a rapid spew of words for the next five minutes straight. He offered up every minutiae of detail from the color of the houses, to the number of people, what clothes they wore, how many defenses they were bu
ilding, what tools they had, and how much food and drink they had on hand. "And the houses—they’re out there repairing the houses from the hurricane. And the main house, the one that you attacked! They're already fixing up all the holes and t-they’re turning it into a f-fortress!"

  Cisco let that sink in with the others as the murmuring rumbled and echoed around him. He glanced at Billy. Another nod. "Okay," he said as he reached out and put a hand on the smaller man’s shoulder. Martin flinched, and Cisco clamped his fingers and thumb together in a hard squeeze. Martin quailed before him on weak knees and sweat broke out on his forehead, but he refused to cry out.

  "Now, the really important part," Cisco said quietly. "Just between you and me…did you try and escape on your own? Or did they let you go?”

  No hesitation. "Of course! We both fought tooth and nail, we got out of there as fast as we could—Billy broke free and probably took out two or three guys—”

  But Cisco wasn't listening. He stared at Billy, who gave an almost imperceptible shake of his head. Nope. "Funny you should say that,” Cisco said. “I got no worries believin’ Billy did just as you said. He's been with me almost since the beginning. Him and me, we done a fair amount of…wet work…together, I guess you could call it."

  Billy laughed.

  “B-b-b-but…” Martin stuttered.

  “B-b-b-but is right," Cisco replied with a snarl. "You, my boy," he said as he reached out his other arm and grabbed Martin’s other shoulder. He looked down at him like a classical wrestler, locked together. “My gut tells me that you would've done anything in your power to stay behind."

  "No! No, I swear! We both tried to get away!"

  "Billy?" Cisco said without taking his eyes off Martin’s.

  "He's a liar," Billy said in his gravelly voice. "Soon as they brought us in, they threw me over in what looked like a garden. Took him inside, but I could see them through the window. They were givin’ him all kinds of food and drink. Whatever he wanted. They had ‘im in there a good long time, too, in the shade. They made me sit out in the sun. Didn't give me squat to eat or drink, either."

  "Now that I believe," Cisco said.

  "I'm being honest! All the defenses they’re building—this big log wall…they’re cutting down trees left and right! You gotta believe me!"

  "Oh, I do," Cisco said. He let go of Martin’s shoulders and took a step back. With open hands he made a gesture of innocence. "I totally believe you on that, little man," he said. "It's the part where you tried to get away that I don't believe.” He pointed at Martin. “That means you’re a spy."

  "No! I would never!” Martin said as he looked around.

  Cisco did the same. "Is there any man or woman here that would step forward and vouch their life for his? All I need is one person to tell me he's telling the truth." He waited. "Anyone?"

  "Come on!" Martin whined. "Nobody even knows me here! I've only been here a couple days…”

  “Thank you for making my point for me,” Cisco said cheerfully. "You ain't one of us yet. That means you could have been one of them from the get-go. A spy, sent into our camp, while we’re trying to defend ourselves from their reckless aggressiveness. So, what did you think, you’d come back here, give me some fake stories about how they’re all nice and innocent, then slip away in the dark after you cut my throat?"

  "What? No!" Martin said, frantic.

  "I agree." Like a snake, Cisco whipped his pistol from it’s holster at the small of his back, raised it to Martin’s forehead in one smooth motion and pulled the trigger.

  He ignored the body at his feet as he holstered his still smoking gun. "That is how we deal with spies. Any questions?" Seeing none, from the crowd, Cisco nodded. "Good. Cleanup detail, get this garbage out of here and bury it." He turned and spotted Jenkins standing with the group of guards, heads together.

  "Jenkins, my tent, let's go."

  Cisco fumed inside his tent as he waited close to two minutes before Jenkins finally arrived. “What took so long to get here?"

  "Some of the boys had questions,” Jenkins answered, his voice flat.

  "About?"

  “What to do about Bee’s Landing. They want to go—they're itching for a fight."

  Cisco nodded. I'll bet that's what you were talking about. Out loud, he said, “This little incident has given me an idea. I want you to pick some people—ones we can trust—like Billy, but not him. Send them out to make some trouble for our dear friends in Bee’s Landing.”

  "What kind of trouble?" Jenkins asked with a skeletal smile.

  "I don't know," Cisco said irritably. "Start some fires, steal some crap, break some windows—just stuff to keep ‘em awake at night. We want to weaken ‘em up a little for us. Know what I mean?"

  Jenkins grinned and offered a weak salute. "Yes, sir."

  "All right, get to it. And send Billy in—I want details on what he saw over there. I have a feeling we’re going to put his info to good use. And soon."

  "Now you're talking," Jenkins said with a thumbs up. He turned and left. "Billy! Boss wants to see you!” Jenkins called from outside the tent before he disappeared around the corner.

  "What are you planning…?” Cisco muttered as he narrowed his eyes at the retreating shadow of his second-in-command.

  Chapter 18

  Lavelle Homestead

  Bee’s Landing Subdivision

  Northwest of Charleston, South Carolina

  The next day, around the middle of the morning, Cami sent out the call to bring as many of the people in the neighborhood that would hear her, to her house. She stood on the back deck and looked down at the cane resting against the shot-up railing. It irked her to know that she needed to use Marty’s cane to walk around, but she could no longer stay in bed.

  Despite Amber’s wishes to the contrary, Cami was fully committed to moving around—the only thing that appeased her daughter’s sense of medical obligation was Cami's reluctant agreement to tell everyone about the supplies and electricity. The fact that the prisoners escaped...well that was just the icing on the cake that made her day perfect.

  She licked her lips and looked out at the sea of faces. Her closest friends were up front by the deck—Gary, Elizabeth, Mitch and Amber. Merle and Amy Orchard were there too, right up front. Row upon row of people crowded in behind them, stretching all the way back to the garden. There had to be at least 40 people in her yard. It was likely the largest gathering she'd ever had on her property.

  Cami swallowed. "I just wanted to say from the bottom of my heart, thank you. To all of you. Whether or not you stood here in my house while I was gone and looked after Amber or protected the neighborhood against Cisco's marauders…thank you.” She took a deep breath and looked down at Amber. Her daughter winked and gave her a keep going nod.

  “We all have to be together if we’re going to weather this new world that’s been thrust upon us." She took a deep breath and was about to speak when someone started clapping toward the back of the crowd. A second later, and the clapping spread to the front, with Amber and Mitch giving hearty cheers and whistles. Cami blushed, then raised her hands to try to calm the ruckus. "Seriously…come on, this isn't some political speech—"

  Someone started to chant from the back, “Four more years!" Laughter and clapping mingled together.

  Eventually, Cami gave up and let them burn themselves out. After a minute or so of steady, standing ovation, the applause died down to the point that Cami could speak again. She cleared her throat and glared at Amber. "I'm not going to name any names, but I'm violating my doctor's orders by standing here—"

  Hoots of laughter and good-natured ribbing followed her comments as people all around Amber clapped her on the shoulders and laughed.

  "But seriously,” Cami continued, “I am so proud of each and every one of you—no matter what you did during the fight and the storm, this neighborhood…I can't believe I have to say this, but this neighborhood would've fallen three times, if it hadn't been for all of us sti
cking together for each other."

  The crowd grew silent, and Cami took advantage of the somber moment. "In that respect, I think it only fitting that we have a moment of silence to remember those who gave their lives in defense of Bee’s Landing.”

  With sweat-slick hands, Cami gripped the splintered railing and bowed her head. Before she closed her eyes, she saw out of her peripheral vision almost every person there did the same. After the moment of silence, Cami looked up. "It is in their spirit, that spirit of sacrifice, that I come to you today."

  "Tell us about the radio!" somebody shouted from the back.

  “Was that guy that escaped really a spy?”

  A clamor of agreement rippled forward to impact the deck like a wave on the ocean. Cami rode over the noise, raised her hands and smiled. "I'll get to that, but I wanted to—"

  “Ra-dio, ra-dio, ra-dio!" the crowd began to chant.

  "Fine!" Cami said, unable to turn back the tide. "I'll let Mitch come on up here and give a summary."

  The crowd clapped as Mitch was cajoled, pushed, and eventually half–carried up the short steps to the deck, where he was unceremoniously dumped next to Cami. She yielded the floor, clapped like everyone else and stepped back.

  “Uh…” he said, his voice cracking. He winced. "I'm sure y’all know everything by now…haven't heard anything new, yet.” He shrugged. “I was just fixin’ to head up and see how much charge we had left on the battery…"

  Cami met Amber's eyes, and she smiled. If anyone was upset over the fact that Cami had purposely withheld information about the supply of food, water and electricity, knowing that with the solar panels hidden away in the shed the radio could be used indefinitely would hopefully go a long way to mollifying the crowd. Cami hoped so at least.