Broken Tide | Book 6 | Breakwater

by Richardson, Marcus

  "Nonsense, you'll never be too old for your mother to comfort you. Now get your butt up here," Cami commanded. It was all she could do to hold back her own tears.

  Marty had been a critical pillar of the neighborhood since the tsunami hit. Without his timely, intelligent advice, Cami knew they wouldn't be alive. Flynt—and definitely Cisco—would've overrun the neighborhood, wave after wave, just like the tsunami.

  Amber climbed up on the bed, and fell into her mother's embrace as if she were eight years old again. As soon as Cami's arms wrapped around her daughter, Amber’s shoulders shook, and she unleashed a flood of tears onto Cami's T-shirt. Her body shivered, racked with sobs as she poured out her grief on her mother’s shoulder.

  Beside them, Reese snorted and rolled over. He flopped one arm on the warm spot where Cami had been sleeping and continued to snore.

  Cami squeezed Amber tight, tucked her face into her daughter's hair, and cried with her. She knew John Douglass’ death would be hard to bear because of the skills the man possessed, and the meat he brought to the communal table as a hunter. But no amount of hunting prowess, or skill with firearms could replace the inestimable experience Marty had offered. From personal relationships, to communal defense strategies, he’d been the one person Cami had relied on most…

  "What are we going to do, mama?" Amber asked. "He knew so much…he knew everything about the radio…"

  Cami stopped her tears and wiped at Amber's face with the palm of her hand. "Sweetie, we’ll make do…Mitch and Rufus are learning…"

  "I hope they learned enough," Amber muttered. She wiped her face and sat up, still close enough to touch Cami, but not in her lap. "I…" She took a deep, shuddering breath and let out a long sigh. "I really thought I was going to be able to help him, you know?"

  Cami reached up with her bandaged hand and ran her fingers through Amber's hair. "Sweetie, there was nothing you could do except make him feel comfortable in the last days of his life. Which, by all accounts, you did."

  Amber half laughed, half sobbed. "He always knew what to do, didn't he?"

  Cami smiled. "Yeah, he did, didn't he?"

  They sat silent for a long moment and listened to the sounds of the night, and Reese’s snoring. "Mama?" Amber asked in a small childlike voice that clinched at Cami's heart. "What are we going to do?"

  Cami leaned back into the pillows propped up against the headboard. "I don't know, sugar… I really don't know." She glanced at the dark shape of her long-lost husband. “But we’re a family again…that’s all that matters.”

  "You know, Marty begged me to convince you to let everyone else know about all the supplies we have…"

  "Sounds like from what Marty told me, everybody already did know," Cami replied.

  "It wasn't on purpose…it just…I guess it kinda just happened," Amber said. "During the storm, we were all preparing for an attack…people had to come inside the house so much, I'm sure they saw more than we would've liked."

  Cami waved away the sentiment. "It doesn't matter now. It's all water under the bridge. We’re all going to have to worry about rebuilding, now that Cisco and his mad dogs are finally, finally gone.”

  “I think the first thing ought to be officially welcoming Darien and his men into the neighborhood. Well…the ones that want to stay.”

  “They don’t all want to stay?” asked Cami.

  Amber’s hair made a soft swishing sound over her shoulders as she shook her head. “Nope. Some have families they want to try to find—they were sticking around out of loyalty to Darien.”

  “I suppose I’ll have to make that my top priority then…” Cami sighed. “I hate being the leader.”

  “Then make your top priority finding someone else to be the leader. Or a group of someones.”

  Cami clinched her jaw thinking of Harriet but didn't say anything. The poor woman wasn’t her best friend, but she didn’t deserve to die, either—especially not the way Cisco had offed her. After another long moment she relented.

  “I don’t know if I’m going to be able to get back to sleep now,” Amber said after a long pause.

  Cami grunted. “Me neither. Come on, help me up.”

  "What…?”

  “Help me get up," Cami repeated as she carefully worked her way to the edge of the bed. “I’m trying not to wake your father, here…”

  "Mom…"

  "That wasn't a request, Amber Lynn Lavelle," Cami said, putting a little steel in her voice. “Marty is down in my living room right now, and he had more to do with the fact that we're sitting here breathing than anyone else in this neighborhood.” She stared at Amber. “I will go downstairs, and I will show my respects to him. I'm not going to be able to sleep the rest of the night anyway, I may as well keep vigil over him until the sun comes up."

  "But…"

  "Amber,” Cami said as she placed her hand on her daughter’s cheek. “The tsunami turned our whole world upside down, destroyed our lives, and changed everything around us. This is something that I need to do—not only for Marty, but for myself. I need to show that there's something that we can do, something that goes back to a time when everything was stable. I have to do this, honey. I'm going to do this, whether you help me or not.” She put her hands on the bed and prepared to stand. “So, if you're so concerned over my injuries, help me get up and keep from tearing those pretty stitches open again."

  Amber sighed but shifted her weight on the bed to allow Cami to get up.

  "I may as well join you," she said with resignation.

  "I think he’d like that we’re both watching over him tonight," Cami said softly as they made their way to the door. She paused and looked over her shoulder.

  “Should we wake dad?” asked Amber.

  “No…” Cami said with a slight smile. She closed her eyes and listened to him snore. It was music to her ears. Her heart could burst with happiness at the terrible, wall-shaking sound. How could she have ever not liked that? It meant he was safe, he was home, he was with her…

  “Let him sleep,” Cami said as she turned away from the bed and walked through the door. “We’ll see him in the morning.”

  Chapter 33

  Lavelle Homestead

  Bee’s Landing Subdivision

  Northwest of Charleston, South Carolina

  Reese squatted next to the fire pit and tossed a scrap of wood into the flames. He stood and dusted his hands on his jeans. It felt good to be dressed in his own clothes once more. He’d been walking around with a smile on his face for what seemed like days.

  He turned and strolled back to Cami, who stood on the deck—without Marty’s cane—and wrapped her hands around a mug of hot tea. Next to his wife, Amber looked on, a sad smile on her face.

  “I can’t believe you guys stayed up all night…” he said in quiet amazement.

  The back door opened, and Mitch Adams walked out with two more mugs of tea. He came over and handed one to Amber. He offered the other one to Reese, but he waved off the younger man. Mitch raised his mug in salute to Cami and Amber. “That’s hardcore.”

  "Mitch?" Reese asked as he saw the tall young man embrace his daughter. "Mitch?"

  "Oh, hey Mr. Lavelle—I mean, Reese—I mean, sir," he stuttered.

  Amber laughed and gave him a kiss on the cheek. "Dad,” she said, looking at Reese, “knock it off—I already told you all about me and Mitch."

  Mitch blushed. “You did?”

  Reese's tan, weather-beaten face split into a wide grin. “Come here," he said as he embraced the younger man. "Thank you—thank you for everything you did for my family."

  "Right back at you," Mitch said as he slapped Reese on the back. "Both of you," he said as he stepped back and nodded at Cami. "You guys took me and my dad and mom in…I don’t know where we’d be if it weren’t for you.”

  Cami nodded but didn’t say anything. The group fell silent for a moment, as they watched the forest.

  Amber yawned. “Do you think Marty would have liked this?�
��

  Cami snorted as she watched the fire struggle to grow again. “Not at all. He would’ve hated it.” She grinned. “Every second of it.”

  “I think he’d be touched by the fact that you two stayed up all night with him, to see him to the dawn,” Reese observed in a solemn tone.

  “He’d be yelling at us to stop drawing so much attention to him…” muttered Cami.

  Reese turned and watched the volunteers shovel the last of the pile of dirt onto Marty’s grave next door.

  “Well…I guess that there’s the next best thing,” Reese said.

  “It’ll be nice to have him nearby,” Amber mused as she watched the workers. She leaned into Mitch and sighed.

  It was chilly—the sun hadn’t had a chance to warm the world yet—but they already wiped at sweat on their brows as they tamped down the mound of fresh earth. Kirk, Marty’s old hunting dog sniffed the ground and whined. The loyal vizsla then circled three times and lay down on the edge of the mound.

  Amber wiped at her eyes and looked away. “I can’t…” she muttered as Mitch wrapped his arms around her.

  “I’m sure someone will take him in…” Reese began.

  “We’re taking him in,” Cami corrected.

  Reese nodded, without skipping a beat. “That’s what I said, we’re taking him in…”

  Cami looked up at the log wall that ran the length of her backyard and separated the forest preserve from their property. Flynt had installed a platform about four feet from the top of the wall so that someone could stand up about ten feet off the ground and peer over, without exposing their body to anyone on the other side.

  Reese followed his wife’s gaze. “Looks like it belongs on a medieval castle.”

  “Well, maybe we’re in a new dark age, you know?” asked Cami.

  “Ugh, I need to find some history books,” Amber moaned. “I thought I was done with school…”

  Heavy footsteps on the deck announced Jo’s arrival. “Morning,” she said in greeting. “When’s the service?”

  Reese nodded at the workers wrapping up Marty’s burial. “We’ll get started in a bit. We just wanted to say goodbye to him in private.”

  “Well, it ain’t gonna be that private,” Jo remarked. “You got a dozen people out front already.”

  Cami closed her eyes. “When are we going to be able to do anything without half the neighborhood watching or following along?”

  Reese put his hands on the bullet-torn railing. “Maybe never again, sweetie. Think about it—we’re building these walls, sure, but there’s always going to be another Cisco. If not tomorrow, then a month from now—or a year from now—someone out there is going to get too big for their britches and decide to take what other people have.”

  “Especially as more and more things become harder to find,” Mitch pointed out over the top of his mug.

  “And three hundred years from now,” Amber intoned, “they’ll be the new lords and kings of this land. It’s like history is just one big wheel. No matter how far you think you advance, time rolls back around.”

  “And if you don’t get out of the way, you get run over,” Cami muttered.

  “Anyone ever think an armadillo looks like a tactical possum?” Jo observed as she looked out over the backyard. “Sorry, just wanted to change the subject. Y’all are gettin’ too depressing.”

  Reese remained silent for a moment, then burst out laughing.

  “Wow,” Amber replied, deadpan voice with a smile on her face.

  “You see what I’ve had to put up with for the past month?” Reese asked, gesturing at Jo, who grinned from ear to ear.

  She elbowed him in the ribs. “Don’t you pay no attention to him, Cami,” Jo advised, “he’s just missing that cursed boat we were trapped on.”

  “I was thinking about that…” Reese said thoughtfully.

  “Here we go,” Jo said, throwing her arms up in surrender. “The answer is no. Most definitely no. I ain’t getting on another boat with you, or anyone else, for that matter. Ever. Again. I’m done. I—“

  “Okay, okay!” Reese said, throwing his hands up to ward off Jo’s attack.

  Cami hid her smile behind her mug. “Do tell,” she encouraged. “What have you been thinking about?”

  “Stop it—don’t encourage him,” Jo begged.

  “No, hear me out,” Reese continued, excited. “What if—now that things are settling down here—“

  “Settling down?” Jo blurted. “We just got back, the neighborhood looks like Beirut after an all-night kegger, and we got us a funeral to—“

  “Burial,” Amber corrected helpfully.

  “Burial,” Jo continued, “to go to…and you’re calling this ‘settled down’?” She shook her head. “If this is your idea of settling down, I sure don’t want to see ‘falling apart’.”

  “Are you done?” Reese asked around a laugh.

  Cami snorted. “Sorry,” she said quickly as Reese rounded on her with a wounded look. “Go on…please.” She took a sip of tea. “I’m listening. See? This is me listening.”

  “Amber’s listening,” Reese said proudly, as he turned to his daughter. “At least someone wants to hear what I have to say. Right honey?”

  Amber blinked at him. “What?” She looked at the others. “I’m sorry, I was thinking about the stitches we put in Logan Myer’s arm yesterday.”

  “Mmmm,” Jo said, nodding sagely. “Those were pretty tricky. I think you did just fine, though, dear.”

  “Aww, thanks!”

  “Guys!” Reese exclaimed. “Seriously!”

  “Alright, enough,” Cami said sternly. “Let’s all listen to what Reese has to say.”

  “Thank you,” he said primly as he looked at them down his nose. He cleared his throat. “So, my idea is to head back to the coast, now that the neighborhood seems sorted out. We’re going to need protein to get through the winter—“

  “There’s plenty of game in the woods,” Cami interjected.

  “But you’re the only one who can really hunt,” Reese countered. “You gonna take that on for the whole neighborhood? And you haven’t even healed yet…”

  Jo nodded. “He’s got a point, honey. Every Fudd in South Carolina’s probably been out there lookin’ for—“

  “Wabbits?” Amber said with a giggle.

  Jo grinned. “I was gonna say anything that they could shoot, but wabbits works, too.”

  “So why go to the coast?” asked Cami. “I think I see what you’re getting at, but there’s plenty of freshwater fishing around here, right? We haven’t seen that many people fishing since the tsunami.”

  “We haven’t seen that many people at all—except the ones that have been trying to conquer us—since the tsunami, either,” Mitch offered.

  “But Cisco’s prison camp thing proves there’s a lot of people—millions maybe—out there on the move. The whole way down the coast in those sailboats,” Reese continued, “we saw hardly anyone by comparison.”

  Jo nodded again. “Ahyup.”

  “What?” Amber said around a mouthful of tea. “What’d she just say?”

  “That’s Mainer talk,” Reese replied. “She’s an old Down Easter.”

  “From Texas,” Jo added.

  “From Texas,” Reese parroted.

  "Gotta admit, he's got a point,” Jo continued, “we didn't see very many boats at all on the way down here. Except those pirates up by Newport and the battle off Long Island. You thinking about going fishing or something?"

  “Pirates?” asked Mitch.

  “Battle off Long Island?” blurted Cami. “What?”

  Reese nodded. “Cami, you tell me how you got shot, and I’ll tell you the tale of how I singlehandedly fought off a whole squadron of boats full of raiders intent on sacking New York City…”

  Jo guffawed, and Reese frowned at her.

  “Look,” he continued his pitch, “if we can land a big tuna—it’d feed half the neighborhood. All we need is a couple people, a coup
le boats, and a secure way to get from the coast.”

  "Reese, you're talking about a lot of work—we’re already putting up the wall around the neighborhood," Cami said as she gestured toward the log structure.

  "That's a great idea," Reese said. "Who knows what else we’ll have to face in the coming weeks and months—maybe years—but I know if we don't eat, we won't be able to face anything."

  "I hope you guys aren't still mad at me for telling everybody about the supplies." Amber said.

  "No, not anymore," Reese said with a lopsided grin on his face. "Seriously, we have plenty.”

  “You guys don’t know the half of it,” Cami muttered. She blinked. “Did I say that out loud? I said that out loud…”

  “You said it out loud,” Mitch confirmed.

  "What are you talking about?" Reese asked. "There's more?"

  Cami shrugged and smiled. "I may have a few caches out there…”

  Someone knocked on the siding around the corner. "Excuse me," Merle Orchard said as he removed his dusty baseball hat. "There's a bunch of us—we were kinda wondering if we might be allowed to pay our respects?"

  Reese cleared his throat and adjusted his shirt. “Merle! Of course, of course…come on over,” he said as he stepped across the deck and gestured for his neighbor to enter the yard.

  “It’s good to see you again, Reese,” Merle said with a smile. “Well, it’s actually kind of…most…of us,” Merle said as he gently slapped his hat against his leg.

  "Who's us?” Mitch asked as he took a sip of tea.

  Jo leaned over the railing and whistled. "Cami, we got about 30 people headed this way.”

  Cami blinked. “How many people?"

  "Oh, I think there's probably more than that," Merle said with a sly smile. “Most of the neighborhood’s turning out."

  “Oh, Marty would hate this," Reese said with a wide smile.

  Cami laughed. "Serves him right for leaving us."

  "I don't think he did," Amber said somberly. "Every time I see that wall, every time I see that redoubt,” she said pointing to the triangular log structure attached to their house, “I’ll think of him."

  "Come on," Reese said as he gathered his family. "Let's head on over." With his arms around Cami on one side and Amber on the other, Reese walked toward the charred remains of his neighbor’s house.