"Well, look at that," Byron said with his hands on his hips. "Kid’s good for something after all."
"Oh, hush," Libby said as she slapped playfully at Byron's arm. She turned to Reese. "Now, I know we ate about an hour ago, but with the way things are going I thought maybe we'd like a bit of a snack? How's fire roasted—"
"Stop right there," Reese said as he held up his hand to interrupt Libby. She blinked at him. "I don't care what it is, I'll be happy to eat it," Reese said with a grin. "What do you say, Jo? Ready for a little shore time?"
Jo laughed. "You kidding me? I want to set up a mosquito net over here, and I'll be perfectly happy sleeping on board, thank you very much."
Byron laughed. "Well, nobody said anything about sleeping on the shore," he said as he slapped another mosquito at his neck. "But it’ll be good for a few hours to stretch our legs and walk around. Nothing warms your spirits at night like a campfire out in the open."
As the sky faded to a velvety purple, Reese stared across the wide unending vista of the Atlantic and listened to the gentle hissing of the waves. Thousands of miles straight ahead lay the entrance to the Mediterranean, a little south of that was where the volcano had exploded two weeks earlier and sent a mega tsunami across the ocean to change the world.
Two weeks...in two weeks he’d gone from being on the fishing trip of a lifetime, to losing his best friend, to standing on the edge of the world with new friends and a sailboat. If Cami and Amber were by his side, he’d call it the vacation of a lifetime...
Thoughts of home soured his mood. Reese kicked at the water’s edge. “I’m coming, guys. Just hang in there. Only a little while longer now...”
Chapter 18
Haslet Forest Preserve
Northwest of Charleston, South Carolina
Cami and John set a brutal pace through the woods for the rest of the improvised posse to follow. Every snapped twig, every footprint, every drop of blood on an ivy leaf lead her closer to Amber. She’d scurry forward at a jog through clear spaces, then slow to a walk when the foliage grew too thick, but always there were signs.
Sweat streamed down the faces of the men who followed her, but not a single one complained. They plunged deeper into the preserve at the same pace for over an hour until they came to the first clearing near the beaver pond. Memories flooded back to her as she scanned the still water. Just a few days back, she and Mitch had hidden behind a cluster of trees and watched a man in dreadlocks on the other side—the man she now knew as Rufus, who was on one knee just to her right, trying to catch his breath.
She wiped her face and was about to tell everyone to drink some water when movement caught her eye near the water’s edge. Someone moaned. John, crouched down next to her and leaning against an oak, heard it, too. He looked at her and nodded. Rifles up, they pushed through the bushes in front of them and emerged by the water, ready to take down whoever was on the other side.
On the ground by the water, Mitch lay bleeding. Cami lowered her weapon and sprinted forward. She tripped on a root and almost fell but caught herself fast enough to end up next to Mitch on one knee. She dropped her rifle and touched his sweaty, grimy face. His skin looked much paler than normal. The ground around his midsection was damp with blood.
“Mitch!”
At the sound of his name, he opened his eyes and smiled. “Hey, Cami-san…”
“What happened?” she asked as she started to look for wounds.
“They…they took…”
“Sssh, I know,” Cami soothed. “Are you hurt? Where?”
“My hip…left side. I think they shot me…”
“Got a body over here,” John announced in a quiet voice a little further up the shore.
Cami looked up and saw John point down to the ground with his rifle. She didn’t recognize the man. “Mitch, who is that?”
“One of the men who…I followed them…” Mitch’s eyes opened wide and his hand grabbed Cami’s upper arm. He tried to pull himself up off the ground, but only managed to lift his head a few inches. “The guy who mugged us—he’s got Amber! The skinny guy…” Spent, Mitch let his head flop back into the mud. “They…they took her…but I got one…shot him…”
“Easy now, Mitch,” Cami said, her mind racing. She couldn’t leave him by the pond to bleed out and die. He was already weak from blood loss. But the fact that he’d taken out one of the kidnappers meant Amber would likely have slowed them down even further. Unless they managed to restrain her or knock her out, the trail should be even easier to follow.
Flynt and his men moved through the undergrowth in ones and twos and joined Cami and John by the water’s edge. A couple moved closer to the kidnapper’s body and examined the find. All around her, men murmured to each other or drank from water bottles, or filtered the pond water.
“We’re wasting time…” she muttered to herself.
John squelched over through the muck and kneeled by Mitch’s head. “Hey, buddy…which way did they go?”
Mitch rolled his head to look at John and grinned. “Straight west.”
Cami frowned. “That’s toward the old forest preserve maintenance facility.”
“Or what’s left of it—they tore all the buildings down a few years back,” replied John.
Cami closed her eyes, trying to remember. “I think I read an article in the paper about it…the county wanted to use the land for a nature center…to boost revenue and something happened, and the money dried up.”
John shrugged. “I don’t know anything about that, I just know there ain’t much there now. Maybe a shed or two and mostly just the parking lot in a clearing.”
“Sounds like a good place to make camp with one of those MRAPs,” Flynt added as he walked over.
“MRAP?” asked Cami.
“Mine Resistant, Ambush Protected—it’s what that big armored truck is called that Cisco’s crew uses. It’s a military—sometimes law enforcement—vehicle.”
John spat into the mud. “They took it from the real National Guard.”
“Yep,” Flynt agreed. He slung his rifle over his shoulder and squatted next to Cami and John. “What are we going to do with him?”
Cami looked at Mitch, now clutching her hand. “Can you walk?”
Mitch snorted. “If I could…I’d still be…I’d be after them…”
Cami squeezed his hand. “I need two volunteers.”
“What for?” asked Flynt.
“One man from your group, one man from mine,” Cami explained. “They’ll take Mitch back to my place. They can make a litter out of saplings…”
“I’ll work on that,” John said. He stood and moved into the treeline.
“I’ll find the volunteers,” Flynt added. He patted Mitch on the shoulder and stood to look for help. “Nice work, kid.”
Cami pulled out her pocket first aid kit and did her best to clean the wound over Mitch’s hip. To her it looked like a lucky shot—the bullet had a clean exit wound and only went through the meaty part of Mitch’s hip. Luckily it hadn’t hit any bones or—she hoped—internal organs. But he’d been laying in mud and bleeding for who knew how long. As she worked to clean the wound, she worried about infection. The longer he lay by the pond, the worse it might be.
“Come on, guys, we need to get him out of here,” she called over her shoulder.
The bushes behind her shuddered and John and one of Flynt’s crew dragged a makeshift stretcher from the undergrowth. It still had a few small twigs with green leaves but it looked serviceable.
Red faced, John dropped his end and looked around. “Litter’s ready—who’s carrying him back?”
“We will,” Spanner said as he and Merle stepped forward. “I ain’t much good in a firefight, but it occurred to me that Cisco’s just sneaky enough to try something while we’re gone, knowing we’re distracted.”
“Yeah, them fires did the trick earlier, but this…” Merle added, looking down at Mitch. “I tried Cami, but I’ll just slow y’all down.”
Cami hugged Merle. “You did great. Gary and Elizabeth will be so excited to see you, and you need to take care of Amy, anyway.”
"Take it easy, Mitch," Cami said. "We’re gonna get you back to the house."
"But Amber..." he began.
"I'm going to get Amber. You need to focus on getting better."
Cami stood and moved out of the way as Merle, Spanner, and a couple other men helped load Mitch onto the stretcher. When they were ready, he and Spanner stood, and easily lifted Mitch.
Cami looked at Merle. He was paler than normal and covered in sweat but had a determined set to his jaw. Despite his fatigue, he still looked stronger than he had the last time she'd seen him. "You gonna be okay?"
"Gettin’ better every day. Don't worry, we'll get him back."
Cami smiled. "Thanks. Both of you," she said to Spanner. The car thief nodded.
Cami waited until Merle and Spanner disappeared into the undergrowth on their way back to Bee’s Landing before she turned to the rest of the group who had arranged themselves in a semicircle around her. "Okay. Did everybody get a chance to get something to drink? I think we know where they went now."
The locals murmured to each other. Flynt’s crew looked nervously back and forth. "So, what are we gonna walk into?" asked Flynt.
"If they’re where I'm thinking, there's not much, except for a parking lot," John said.
Cami nodded, her hands on her hips. "It's a clearing," she said as she looked out across the beaver pond. "About as big as this pond. Just a parking lot with a long access road that leads out to Harcourt Road—which goes right to the entrance of Bee’s Landing. It’s pretty secluded—the county was going to turn it into a nature center. It all fell through, so they tore down the old buildings and just left the lot."
"I know the place," one of the men from the neighborhood said. He stepped forward to the group and addressed everyone. "I'm part of the local astronomy club—we use it for dark sky parties. She's right. There's really nothing there."
"Sounds like a good spot for them to park all those vehicles they had," Flynt mused. "Like a staging area.”
Cami thought for a second. She knelt down at the water's edge and found a stick, then drew a crude map. “Okay, check it out. Here's Bee’s Landing. Here's the forest preserve," she said as she drew a wide, looping circle on the backside of the square representing Bee’s Landing. "And this pond behind me, is right about...here." She jabbed the tip of the stick into the soft mud.
“Is that the road that goes by the front of the neighborhood?” asked Rufus as he pointed at the line she drew.
“Yup,” Cami agreed. “Here's Harcourt," she said as she extended a line that roughly ran in front of Bee’s Landing, then looped out south of Haslet Forest Preserve and into the interior of South Carolina. "And here's the access road to the place where we think Cisco took Amber." She stood and dusted her hands.”
John cleared his throat. "There's a wide, shallow creek not far from the clearing where the maintenance facility used to be. I've gone through there plenty times hunting.” He picked up the stick and added another squiggle. "I'd say from here it's about...oh, a two-hour hike. They got at least a half hour head start on us.”
“If we hurry,” Rufus said, “we might be able to catch them before they get to the parking lot."
Cami looked at the sun in the sky, then down at the trees and greenery that surrounded the beaver pond. "I don't like that. That'll have us rushin’ into their camp late in the day. We'll all be tired and hungry—liable to make more mistakes. Last thing I want is for anyone to get hurt on account of this rescue mission."
Flynt, silent until then, stepped forward. "So, we split up."
John stood next to Cami and shook his head. "Split up?" He shook his head. "I don’t like that idea. We need to be able to hit them hard, all at the same time."
Flynt continued. "I think she's right, we can’t all go charging in there. You guys may be outdoorsmen, but me and my crew are city folk, we’re not used to tromping around through the woods like this...we’ll just slow you down."
"Well, some of us," Rufus said as he tossed his dreadlocks over one shoulder in a dramatic gesture. A few of the locals chuckled.
"No, I think you're both right." Cami stepped forward again and stood at the water’s edge. "I think we need to split, but into unequal groups. One group, the trackers, should race forward and catch up with them as fast as possible. We won't have enough manpower to do much, but if we happen to catch them in the open, a couple of us have a better chance of taking down the kidnappers and rescuing Amber than all 20 of us going along at a slower pace."
Flynt frowned. "What about the rest of us?"
Cami saw the look on his face and realized he knew where she was going with her idea. Like a good leader, he played it off like it was her decision, though they knew it would take both of them to make it work. "The rest of you come at a slower pace—conserve your energy. By the time we link up, the trackers should have been able to observe Cisco's camp long enough to come up with a plan."
Flynt nodded and put his hands on his hips. He looked down at the crude map drawn on the ground and picked up the stick. “What if we have the main group circle north or south," he said as he pointed at the map. "If Cisco has any brains at all," he continued, "he'll expect a counterattack or at least a few people coming to rescue the girl. He knows the neighborhood lies due east of his position...so if I was him, I'd have people spread out along this line...roughly following this creek you drew."
John slung his rifle over his back and squatted to examine the map. He scratched his chin. "The creek gets pretty shallow a ways north of there...here," he said as Flynt handed the stick over and he poked at the ground. "It's pretty easy to cross there, even for city folk," he said with a grin. A few of Flynt's men smiled back. "We can cross there with the larger group, sweep around to the north, and come in from this direction. They’ll never know what hit them."
Cami looked where John had pointed with the stick. "I like it, but that's gonna add a lot of extra travel time. We should get going."
John pulled his backpack off. "Here," he said as he pulled out the radios from Cami's house. Marty thought these might come in handy and asked me to grab them."
"Why, that dirty old—" Cami said as she took one of the radios. "What else you got in there?"
John tipped the bag over and Cami and the others peered inside. "He had me grab a little something from his house as a parting present for Cisco and his crew."
"Cami looked up from the bag, her eyes wide. "Is that what I think it is?"
John shrugged. "Your guess is as good as mine. He gave me instructions on how to use it, but I've never seen this stuff other than the movies, you know?"
“What is it?” asked Flynt, peering into the bag. “Looks like clay.”
John grinned. “It’s plastic explosive.”
Cami shook her head. "I just hope nobody gets killed over this." She took the other radio and handed it to Flynt. "I'll take John, and Rufus," she said with a nod toward the dreadlocked man behind Flynt. He grinned back at her. "I think everyone here can admit that the three of us are the best outdoorsmen in the group?"
Flynt turned and half-looked over his shoulder. The other men all agreed in silence. "So, where does that leave the rest of us?"
"Put the radio on channel 3. Don't use names, keep any communications as brief as possible,” Cami instructed. “These things only have a range of a couple miles, but something tells me Cisco doesn’t have a radio shack set up with someone manning network traffic full-time."
"He’s smart enough to figure that out,” Flynt said, grim faced. “But I agree...he's got his sights set on me and Bee’s Landing."
"I tell you what," Rufus interjected, "after the bloody nose we gave him, he's gonna be thinking about nothing but revenge. That guy is one twisted dude."
"Good, we'll use that to our advantage," Cami said. She pointed at Flynt. "Don't tire yourselves out,
stick to the plan, and radio me when you reach the creek. If anything changes, I'll let you know."
"Agreed," Flynt said. He reached out his hand, and Cami shook it.
"Okay, let's do this.” Cami stood. “John, Rufus...let’s go.” She led the way into the forest once more. Behind her, Flynt barked out orders, and the main body of volunteers moved off to the northwest.
Chapter 19
Sailing Vessel Intrepid
Cape Henlopen, Delaware
Reese exhaled and wiped the sweat from his face. It was already later than he would like, and the sun grew dangerously close to the western horizon. Before they knew it, night would be upon them. He couldn't stop to grab more than a bottle of water. Over the hour or so since they'd docked, the tide continued to drop, and the boats continued to settle on the silt bottom of the new lagoon.
The football in Tiberia’s side was completely exposed, which gave Reese and Byron the perfect opportunity to make sure the patch would hold. Byron stayed belowdecks and used a flashlight to work on sealing the inner hull—and repair the damage to the main cabin.
Meanwhile, Reese continued to use the boatswain chair and hung precariously over the side of Tiberia’s bow, using his feet to in effect, stand on the port side of the boat. In this way, he was able to securely maintain his position enough to use both hands. He prepared the hull for a more permanent epoxy and fiberglass patch.
The marine hull repair kit Byron stocked was normally designed for emergencies, small holes and cracks—never a hole the diameter of a football. However, with the added sailcloth that Reese had stuffed behind the football, and the pressure of Libby's net holding the whole thing together, they'd made an effective seal. It wasn't watertight by a long shot, but it'd been enough to get them safely across Delaware Bay to Cape Henlopen.
Reese sat back and took a long pull from his lukewarm bottle of water. There was still a ways to go before they could call the boat seaworthy. If they ran into any rough weather—which Reese fully expected as they went further south toward the hurricane forming off the Carolinas—the added pressure of actual waves hitting the hull might very well do in their repair job.
Broken Tide | Book 4 | Backflow Page 15
