Broken Tide | Book 6 | Breakwater

by Richardson, Marcus

  “Shut up, Walter," one of the others in the group snapped at the man who spoke.

  "Gentlemen, we agreed that Harriet would do the talking for us," said the young lawyer that Cami remembered from so long ago.

  "Last time I saw you,” she said, singling him out, “you were standing right here on this very same porch with another group of men who came knocking on my door to take what they thought was theirs…”

  His face turned red, then purple, but he didn't say a word as he stared daggers at Cami.

  "Stop trying to mince words, Lavelle," Harriet said sharply.

  Cami's eyebrows rose at the use of her last name.

  "You have extra supplies, we need them. Hand ‘em over,” said Walter.

  "So…it's come to that?" Cami asked lightly. "Blatant robbery."

  "If you won't give the supplies to us, then we’ll be forced to take them,” Harriet said, with much less conviction in her voice than Cami surmised she wanted. “In the name of the Bee’s Landing Homeowners Association.”

  "What did I do to any of you?" Cami asked as she ignored Harriet and address the men behind her. "Did I steal something from you? Did I buy the last supplies at the grocery store well before the tsunami? Did I somehow do something to you or your families?”

  "You didn't do anything, Lavelle," one of the HOA men said. "Just because you have extra supplies—”

  "I have a lot of extra bullets, too,” Cami shot back. “But I’m afraid you’re going to have to take them one at a time.”

  "So do we," Harriet snapped. "I prefer not to use violence to achieve justice, but I will if I have to," Harriet said.

  "You mean you're going to tell other people to fight and die," Darien Flynt said from behind Cami. He nudged his way around her and confronted Harriet directly. "I always knew you had some crazy ideas Harriet, but I didn't think you'd actually put them into action. Stop this before somebody gets hurt. You can stop it—you know you can."

  "No, I can’t—some of us are starving,” Harriet replied. “And here she sits with plenty of food. The nonsense ends today," Harriet said as she stabbed a finger in the air.

  Cami gently nudged Flynt aside. "You're right about that, Harriet. This nonsense—you thinking that you can run roughshod over anybody in this neighborhood…it stops today."

  "I'm warning you, we’ll open fire if we have to," Harriet said.

  Cami stepped back, and Amber stepped forward, right on cue. "Then you’ll have to shoot through me first." She spread her arms wide and looked at the men behind Harriet. "I'm unarmed, if that helps you and your men pull the trigger.”

  "So am I," Mia said as she stepped up next to Amber and locked arms. “You’ll have to kill two unarmed women first.”

  "Make that three," Elizabeth said as she stepped up on Amber's other side.

  "Go ahead—you may as well shoot all of us," Amy Orchard added, still looking weak as she limped up next to Elizabeth.

  Cami smiled as the men behind Harriet paled. Those that had pistols drawn, holstered them. Those with rifles, lowered them. Only the HOA men remained defiant.

  "I'll do it, I swear I will," Harriet said her voice shrill.

  "Enough of this," Flynt said from behind the line of unarmed women on the front porch. "Those men behind you aren’t going to start a bloodbath, and you know it. You played your best cards and now you’ve lost."

  Harriet opened her mouth to argue, but Cami got the first word in. "Harriet, get over it. If any one of those men behind you so much as twitches, every one of you is going to die right here on my porch today. We didn't want this fight. I'm doing everything I can to help this neighborhood. I'm not perfect, and yes, I probably could've shared earlier, but I'm sharing now, dadgum it. If you want to start this fight, then all of you are going to die!"

  Flynt whistled.

  Several men appeared around each corner of Cami's house and leveled rifles at Harriet’s supporters. Windows upstairs slid open, and rifles appeared. The distinctive cha-chack of Reese’s shotgun echoed in Cami's ears as Flynt racked the forestock and loaded a shell in the chamber.

  The men behind Harriet quailed, and several raised their hands. They turned and walked away with wary looks over their shoulders.

  "I didn't come here for a gunfight," one of them said.

  "This isn't over," the lawyer from the HOA said.

  "Oh, yes it is,” Cami snarled. “If any of you so much as darken my doorstep again with the intent to take anything or hurt anyone under my protection, it'll be the last thing you ever do. This is the only warning you're going to get." Cami glared at them. "Do I make myself clear?”

  Harriet laughed bitterly. "And yet you accuse me of trying to be a queen!”

  "I'm not trying to be anything. I'm trying to protect my family—I’m not speaking for anyone else. Anyone that stands with me does so of their own free will."

  Harriet narrowed her eyes as she addressed Cami’s group. "So, all you people supporting her are fine with the fact that the prisoner from Cisco's camp got away? Don’t you think it's a little ironic?"

  Standing next to Cami, Flynt glanced at her. They hadn't planned for this line of questioning.

  "I'll be the first one to admit that we got fooled. He was a spy, no doubt about it," Cami said. "We gave him some food and water, and then he slipped away last night."

  "So, you admit it!" Harriet cried. She pointed at Cami. "How can you follow somebody who's so clueless? She couldn't even see the obvious ploy that’d been dropped right in her lap! I was suspicious of those two from the get-go!"

  Cami shook her head. "That doesn't change a thing about this situation, Harriet. You need to leave."

  "You need to leave," Harriet yelled as she jabbed a finger between Mia and Amber. "You're the one that thinks you’re some kind of dictator! Well, I'm here to tell you that the HOA is the authority in this neighborhood!"

  "You can be the authority all you want," Cami said. "But your authority ends at the end of my driveway. You understand me?"

  For a moment, she thought Harriet would burst a blood vessel, her face went so red. Eventually, the small HOA stooge wearing glasses stepped up behind her, gently took her hand and pulled her back from the porch.

  As Cami watched, the opposition melted, and the men streamed away, as if to put as much distance between themselves and Harriet as possible. By the time they dragged Harriet back to the road, only the core of the HOA committee remained at her side. They argued amongst themselves for a few moments in the street, then turned and marched off, heads held high as if they had won a great victory.

  Amber led the women on the porch in a cheer and those with weapons gathered for celebratory handshakes and high fives.

  When it was over, Cami slumped forward and leaned heavily on the porch railing. "I can't keep doing this," she gasped.

  "Come on, mom, let's get you inside to lie down," Amber said. She was at Cami’s side a moment later and helped her limp inside. The people on the porch chatted amiably for a few more minutes as the defenders broke up and returned to their tasks. Cami noticed Flynt was the last to leave as he doggedly remained on the porch with the shotgun, watching Harriet.

  "Having second thoughts?" Cami asked softly.

  Flynt lowered the weapon and turned his back on Harriet's retreating figure. "No. I've made my choice. I know which side I'm on."

  Cami smiled as he went to her other side and helped her through the door. "I may not have said it before, but I'm glad you're on our side, Darien."

  Chapter 25

  Braaten Forest Preserve

  Northwest of Charleston, South Carolina

  Reese looked at the revolver in his hands. It felt heavier than he'd expected, much heavier than the one he'd acquired in Maine at the start of all the troubles.

  "You know how to use it, right?" Jenkins asked as he looked around.

  "Yeah," Reese replied. He opened the cylinder then snapped it shut and looked up. "Only one shot?"

  Jenkins grinned, h
is teeth flashing orange in the reflected firelight. "Don't want you getting any ideas." The smile faded quickly, and he put a hand between Reese’s shoulder blades and shoved him forward. "Get to it."

  "You better remember our deal," Reese said quietly.

  "I'm a man of my word!" Jenkins replied.

  Reese took a deep breath, stepped forward and passed between the two guards, who looked at him and grinned. He couldn't tell if it was the smile of one who knew secret knowledge, or who was about to betray a witless dupe.

  Here goes nothing...

  Reese pulled the tent flap back and blinked in the light of several candles. The heavy canvas walls snapped in the breeze, and in the corner he spied a giant four-poster bed. A metal chair, with bloody duct tape curled around two feet sent a shiver down Reese's spine. Was that where they’d held Cami?

  His hand gripped the revolver tight. With grim determination, he strode across the open space toward the man who had his back to him. Cisco, although a massive human, when seated at a makeshift table reviewing maps looked normal. His prison overalls were down around his waist, and his shirt discarded somewhere among the pile of supplies and trash strewn about the tent. Candlelight reflected off his broad, tattooed back. Reese got halfway to his goal and paused.

  "’Bout time you brought my food, puta,” Cisco said without turning around.

  Reese held his breath and raised the pistol to point at Cisco. His finger moved to the trigger. He tried to squeeze, but nothing happened. The part of him that longed for Cami and Amber above all else, that drove him to the very limit of his endurance to make it home, refused to commit cold-blooded murder.

  A fresh sweat broke out on Reese's face. The hand holding the revolver trembled.

  "Well just put it down already,” Cisco grumbled over his shoulder.

  Reese swallowed and gripped the pistol with two hands, but still couldn't bring himself to shoot someone in the back of the head, especially unarmed. Even if the man was a monster responsible for direct harm to his own family.

  If I go down this road, how am I any better than him? Reese sighed and lowered the weapon.

  Cisco turned on the stool, and his glower changed into a comically surprised expression. His eyebrows climbed, and his eyes went wide. "What's this?" Without waiting for an answer, he jumped from the stool and strode over to Reese.

  Cisco, noting the revolver pointed at the floor in Reese's hand glared at him. "You going to do something with that, or are you just gonna look at me?"

  Reese sighed. He turned the revolver around and held it out to Cisco with an open palm. "I'm supposed to kill you. But I can't."

  Cisco snatched the revolver, quickly opened it and took a look, then spun the cylinder, snapped it shut. He aimed it Reese's forehead. "Probably the last mistake you'll ever make," Cisco growled.

  Reese stared down the barrel but held his ground. His mind raced and he clutched at a possible solution. "Jenkins sent me."

  Cisco blinked and lowered the revolver. "Say what now?"

  Emboldened by Cisco's stunned, yet not quite fully surprised reaction, Reese plowed forward. "You were expecting that, weren't you?"

  Cisco looked down at the revolver then back at Reese. "What did he want you to do?" he asked in a low voice.

  Reese shrugged. “He gave me that gun told me to walk in here and shoot you in the back of the head." Reese looked at the tent flap and kept his voice low. "He's right outside, and the two guards out there are loyal to him. He's waiting for the gunshot."

  Cisco rubbed the barrel of the gun against his chin. “Is that right?" He crossed his arms. “To tell the truth, I kind of did expect it, yeah.” He narrowed one eye at Reese. "But I'm confused—why didn’t you do it? You’re the one that’s been causing trouble out there. I told the boys to keep an eye on you."

  "You probably should've told them to keep an eye on Jenkins. He says he's got several of the guards on his side."

  Cisco nodded. "I know. I tell you what, I appreciate you doing this. So, I’m not gonna kill you. The fact that you didn't shoot me shows loyalty. I like that. That's better than what Jenkins has showed. I gave him everything—he was just some scraggly, half-starved pendejo when I found him. And this is how he repays me.”

  Cisco paced the floor inside the tent. “Alright…so that’s how it’s gonna be, huh?” he muttered to himself. He stopped suddenly and looked at Reese. “So here's what you’re going to do, if you want to stay alive."

  Reese nodded. Anything to get out of here…I just need a ten-minute window and I’m gone…

  Cisco grinned. “You’re gonna shoot that gun, but you ain’t gonna shoot me." Cisco turned and picked up an AK-47 laying just out of sight on the desk "I want you to tell Jenkins the deed is done. You need to get him in here." He looked at Reese. "Think you can handle that?" He asked as he turned the revolver around and handed it to Reese.

  Reese swallowed and nodded as he took the weapon with one sweaty hand. He cocked back the hammer, and Cisco eyed him warily. The AK-47 was angled toward the ground, but Reese realized if he tried to shoot Cisco now, the bigger man could easily swing his own rifle up and send Reese to the afterlife in a heartbeat. He nodded again.

  "Okay. What do I do once I go out and tell him to come in?”

  Cisco grinned. "Keep your head down, ese. I got the feeling my boys are going to be trigger-happy tonight."

  Reese aimed the revolver in a safe direction and pulled the trigger.

  Chapter 26

  Braaten Forest Preserve

  Northwest of Charleston, South Carolina

  Reese staggered out of the tent as the echo from the gunshot rang in his ears. Jenkins stood there waiting for him with a wide smile on his face. The two guards smirked and waited behind Jenkins as the camp stirred with the sudden, sharp sound.

  "You do it?" Jenkins asked.

  "Yeah…” Reese grunted. He licked his lips. “I’ve never shot someone before…God, what a mess…” he lied.

  A wolfish grin spread across Jenkins’ face and he shouldered Reese aside. "I need to see for myself. Keep an eye on him," he called to the guards over his shoulder.

  "But—” Reese started to say but was cut off as one of the big guards grabbed him by an arm and jerked abruptly back. The other took the revolver from his hand and stuffed it behind his straining belt.

  Jenkins disappeared behind the flap, and Reese noticed several guards running from the other side of the compound. “Uh…guys…” he said in warning. The viselike hand wrapped around his bicep let go as Jenkins’ guards turned to face Cisco's men.

  “No, I swear!" Jenkins yelled from inside the tent.

  "Traitor!” Cisco roared.

  Jenkins’ men looked at each other, then back at Reese. "Shoot them!" Reese yelled as he pointed at Cisco's men.

  “What happened?” One hollered. “We heard a gunshot!”

  “Somebody tried to kill Cisco!” Reese yelled.

  Gunfire erupted in the tent, and bullets zipped past Reese’s head. One of the guards grunted with a wet, meaty impact. He dropped to his knees, holding his neck. Reese felt something wet and warm splash across his face, then ducked to clear his vision.

  The gunfire inside the tent continued—several loud pops from a handgun, answered by the staccato brrat-tat-tat-tat of Cisco's AK-47. He dropped to the ground as the guard next to him opened up with an AR-15 on Cisco's men, who likewise return fire.

  Several more shots erupted from inside the tent, and one of Cisco's men screamed as he fell to the ground. Over the sound of the gunfire, Reese heard close to a hundred voices cry out in terror and panic.

  When Reese looked up from the ground, the other command tent was on fire. Sparks flew through the air. Chaos exploded in the camp. Prisoners ran everywhere, some clutching children, others carrying supplies.

  He had no idea if Jenkins or Cisco were still alive, but Reese left them to their fate. He scrambled to his hands and knees, scuttled behind Jenkins’ last remaining guard, and made a
beeline for the shadows next to the giant armored military truck. He dove under the truck, and ignored the pain that raked the front of his body courtesy of the coarse gravel. Incoming rounds pinged and ricocheted off the trucks charred—but still thick—armor plating, and Reese ducked his head to the ground one more time.

  "Where is he?" Jenkins roared.

  Reese looked behind him, and saw Jenkins stagger out from the tent, blood splattered all over his chest. He took one weak step forward and sank to his knees. Beyond Jenkins, Reese saw through the tent flap another body on the floor inside the tent. He recognized Cisco's naked torso but didn't see any movement. When he looked back at Jenkins, the man's eyes rolled up in his head, and he fell face first onto the dirt.

  At this display, all the guards stopped shooting at each other, and looked down at the body on the ground. Cisco's man raised his weapon to show he wasn’t going to fight, and calmly walked forward. Jenkins' man turned and joined him, and the two guards looked in the tent at the same time. More came running from the other side of the compound, pushing and shoving their way through the panicked civilians that screamed and ran in terror in every direction.

  "Go, go, go…” Reese told himself as he pulled forward and emerged out the other side from under the big vehicle. A woman, screaming as she held the hand of a small child, ran into him and caromed off into the shadows. One of the guards chased her, laughing maniacally with a knife in one hand.

  As he ran by, oblivious to everything but his prize, Reese casually put a foot out, and sent the man flailing into the gravel. As he hit the ground with a muffled grunt, the woman turned, saw Reese, then ran into the distance and slipped into the shadowy forest.

  “I’ll kill you!” the guard roared as he lifted his bleeding hands from the ground.

  Reese pounced on the guard’s knife as it scrabbled across the ground, then dropped down and plunged it into the man’s back. He cried out in pain and writhed, but couldn't dislodge Reese from his back.

  "This is for everyone you hurt, everyone you killed!” he growled as his vision blurred. "This is for my wife and daughter!" Reese turned the knife, ripped it free with a sickening squelch, then plunged it again and again into the man's back until he stopped thrashing.