Broken Tide | Book 1 | Overfall

by Richardson, Marcus

  "Oh," Mia said, perking up. "We have one of those little freezers out in the garage. We stocked up during the big end of summer meat sale the other day."

  Cami nodded. "Good. That stuff will stay frozen for a good couple days. The trick is, when you pull stuff out, do it quick, and don't open it again. Frozen stuff will keep the temperature safe for a while. But you’re going to have to start cooking things. I’d eat what's in your fridge first, then start in on the freezer."

  Mia nodded. "That's not going to be fun. Pretty much the only thing my kids will eat is chicken nuggets and Cheerios…sometimes pizza. It's so hard to get them to eat anything."

  Cami nodded. "Amber was the same way when she was their age. Trust me, if they get hungry enough, they'll eat."

  Mia took a deep, shuddering breath. "Thanks Cami—I just needed someone to calm me down, I guess. It's just so crazy out there right now."

  "What do you mean, ‘crazy?’” asked Mitch.

  "Well, like I said, I was just running to town to get some more water and toilet paper—and some snacks for the kids...and the streets were totally clogged with people! I've never seen so much traffic in Ashley before. It's insane! And don't even think about going to a gas station. There must be cars lined up halfway to the interstate." She shook her head, tight black curls dancing prettily in the dim light. "When I finally made it to the store, the parking lot was overflowing. I had to park down the street and walk. Can you believe that?"

  "What was it like inside?" asked Cami, leaning forward.

  Mia stared at the fridge, not seeing anything. "It's like the end of the world. I saw two women fighting over a bag of rice—they were actually pulling hair and slapping at each other. In the end, it took a couple employees to pull them apart, but by then they'd ripped open the bag of rice and it had gone all over the place.”

  “That’s terrible,” Cami said, her back ram-rod straight, her hands splayed on the table. Her fears had come true. Things had fallen apart already.

  Mia nodded. “Then an old lady came up and started scooping the rice up off the ground. That got the manager involved and then the shouting started all over again." Mia took a sip of her water. "I've never seen anything like it. It's like people have lost their minds…"

  "I can't believe it got that bad so soon," Amber muttered. "The lights only went out last night."

  "I know," Mia commiserated. "On the way out of the grocery store—I never did get any water or toilet paper—all I managed to find was some chips and pretzels. The store was already picked clean when I got there. They said there was another shipment coming in tomorrow, but I don't know. If the roads around here are any indication, nothing is going to be coming in for a long time. There’re accidents everywhere. People having to leave their cars and just walk. I barely got out as it is. Jimmy's going to kill me,"

  “Why is that?" asked Cami.

  "Because I got scared when I was leaving the parking lot. All I could think of was getting home and getting to the kids. I couldn't find any water, couldn't find any toilet paper. The only thing I ended up doing was using up gas and getting into an accident."

  "Oh, my goodness," Cami blurted. "Are you okay?"

  "I'm fine," Mia said, waving off Cami's concern. "It was just a little fender bender. I got too close to somebody, and they scraped the side of my car. Jimmy's gonna be so mad," Mia moaned, resting her face in her hands.

  "There, there," Cami soothed, patting her neighbor on the back. "I'm sure it's not as bad as all that. Jimmy will understand—these things happen during times of emergency. You should hear Reese talk about some horror stories he's lived through during hurricanes…” Cami said, her voice trailing off. Amber looked down at the table and fidgeted with the tablecloth.

  Cami swallowed, cleared her throat, and continued. "My point is, give it another day or two, and everything will be put in perspective. A scratch down the side of your car is really no big deal. You'll see."

  "Thanks, Cami—you're a lifesaver. I…I hate to ask…” Mia looked at Cami's fridge, then back to Cami. “Is there any way I might be able to get another bottle of water or two? I'm sure the kids are pretty thirsty by now. We had all the windows shut in the house to be ready for when the air conditioning came back on—it was hot when I left this morning, and I can't imagine what it's like right now, if they haven’t opened any windows."

  "Of course," Cami said, standing up. She moved toward the fridge, quickly opened it, and pulled out two bottles, shutting it again before Mia could see how well-stocked it was. She hoped Mia didn’t notice that the light was on, either. They hadn't had a chance to unplug the fridge from the solar array before the unexpected guest had arrived.

  Cami logged those as two potential security threats and vowed to address them when Mia left. They had to do a better job of making sure people didn't know how well off they were. If things were as bad as Mia was saying already—only 36 hours after the tsunami—things were likely going to get a lot worse very fast.

  Cami turned, pushing away the dark thoughts and plastered a fake smile on her face. "Here you go, dear." She put the two bottles on the table, then held up a finger to stop Mia from thanking her. "Hold that thought. I have an idea. Be right back." She skipped out of the kitchen, and once out of sight, ran as quietly as she could to the garage.

  Slipping into the darkened cave, she searched along the wall where Reese normally parked his car. Several five-gallon buckets had been stacked up and prepared years ago, filled with mylar sealed, vacuum packed bags of rice and beans portioned out to equal a meal's worth for her and Reese. Moving the top buckets to the ground, she lifted up the one on the bottom and examined the seal.

  Everything was still in good shape, although it was a bit dusty. She leaned down and looked at the masking tape label she'd attached to the bucket when she’d first stored it. The date was six years ago. Perfect. Cami had plenty of stores, and giving one of the 5 gallon buckets to a neighbor would go a long way toward establishing goodwill and gaining allies in the neighborhood. If things were going south in town—just a handful of miles away—one of the things floating in the back of Cami's mind was to get the neighborhood together. If they created a unified front, it might help dissuade anyone looking for trouble from finding it in Bee’s Landing.

  Cami stood and hefted the heavy bucket, carrying it awkwardly on one hip as she exited the garage. She had to walk a fine line now. She didn't want to give out too much food, or word would spread that the Lavelle house was the new Walmart. On the other hand, she wouldn’t be able to sleep at night knowing that Mia, her husband, and their two kids went hungry when she had the means to help. She understood that there was always the threat of giving out too much food and making things hard on herself and Amber and Mitch, but to the best of her knowledge, Mia and Jimmy didn't have a thriving garden like she did. She had at least a couple months worth of food out back. All they had to do was harvest it, and figure out a way to preserve it. That was yet another problem to solve, another item on her ever-growing mental list of things to do.

  Cami worked her way back into the kitchen and put the smile back on her face as she set the bucket down on the table. “Ta da!”

  "What's this?" asked Mia.

  "It's just a little something I wanted to give you and Jimmy. I know you said you were out looking for stuff, and you know I am a wilderness guide…It’s…well, it’s not much, but it's the last of my work supplies," Cami lied. "Basically, packs of rice and beans and spices—enough to make meals for me on the trail for weeks at a time." She stepped back and eyed the bucket. "There's probably enough in here for you and your family for a good three weeks."

  Mia broke down in tears, jumped up from her chair and embraced Cami tightly. She buried her face in the crook of Cami's neck and sobbed, her whole body shaking. Cami reached out and slowly wrapped her arms around her neighbor, patting the younger woman on the back. "It's okay…sssh, come on now, Mia, it's okay…”

  "Thank you," Mia said, stepping back an
d releasing Cami from the death grip. "Thank you so much," she said, wiping her face with both hands. "I can never repay you—I don't know what to say…”

  Cami was about to reply when Amber stood up. "You know what? Hang on, I’ve got an extra flashlight and some batteries you can have, too.” She stepped out of the room and came back a moment later to meet Cami's glare. Her step faltered and she almost dropped the flashlight when she glanced at her mother, then focused on Mia and handed over the gear. "I got this the other day and was gonna take it back to college, but since it doesn't look like I'm going anywhere anytime soon, I guess you can use it more than me."

  "Oh, no—Amber, I can't take this. Really, between this and the food, it's too much—”

  Cami took the flashlight and batteries from Amber, and placed them in Mia's hands, then wrapped the younger woman's fingers around them. "Please. I insist. Reese would want you to have them, too."

  “Where is he?” Mia asked. “I—I’m sorry, I don't mean to intrude—its just that...well, Jimmy didn't come home from work last night, and I'm just getting a little worried, that's all."

  Amber shot Cami a severe look. "I'm sure he'll be home soon," she said.

  "Amber's right. We came from Charleston right after the tsunami hit, and the roads were bad, but they weren't blocked. I'm sure it's just taking everyone a little longer to get home."

  "What about Reese?"

  Cami's chest tightened. "I'm sure he's fine," she said quickly. "Here, let me help you get this to your car," she said. "Amber, grab the water, would you?"

  The three of them headed for Mia's car, brushing off the copious apologies and gratitude from their neighbor as they went. At last, Cami shut the trunk on Mia's little sedan, and waved as she backed out into the street. When her car had disappeared around the curve and over the bridge to the north, heading to the other side of the neighborhood, Cami rounded on Amber.

  "From now on, I don't want you offering anything to anyone. You understand? Anything. To. Anyone. If someone around here is going to be giving out food or supplies, it'll be me. Okay?"

  Amber took a step back. “Okay, okay. I don't get what the big deal is…”

  Cami sighed, rubbed her forehead for a second, then started walking toward the house. "Honey, if things are as bad as Mia said they are, and I have no reason to doubt her, then we have to be extremely careful. In times like this, bad people will take advantage however they can."

  "Is that why you're carrying?" Amber asked, unable to hide a smile in her voice.

  Cami turned deadly serious. "That's exactly why I'm carrying. And we’re going to make sure that you and Mitch get trained up so that you can start carrying, too. It won't take long for the scuffle Mia described in the grocery store to turn into gunfights over bags of rice and gallons of water. Once people realize the power is out across the country and help is not coming from the next state over, things are going to get bad. Fast.”

  She looked at Amber. “Your father and I watched it happen when hurricane Andrew hit south Florida in ’91. It was the same thing during Katrina." She shook her head. "Now?" she asked, holding the front door open for her daughter. "Nobody has realized yet that there is no help coming. The National Guard, the state troopers, all the government employees you can think of from South Carolina—they’re all trying to help those people along the coast where the damage is real. People like us, just out of the danger zone but without power? We’re on our own. You watch, it's gonna get bad. That's why we've got to be ready."

  "I don't understand," Amber said as Cami shut the front door and locked it. "Why we can't give out some of the stuff we've got to people who need it. You know we've got way more than we need."

  "That's not the point, sweetie. We have way more than we need, sure. If the emergency lasts a couple weeks, or months, we’ll be good. Shoot, we’re probably good all the way through most of the winter right now. But the point is, if we start giving out food to Mia and she talks to anybody on her side of the neighborhood, we’ll have people coming to our door all hours of the night asking for food. And there's going to come a point,” Cami said as they reentered the kitchen. "There's going to come a point where people aren’t going to take no for an answer. Starving people are desperate. Starving parents are downright dangerous. People will do anything to make sure their kids aren't starving."

  Amber cocked her head and crossed her arms. "Aw, you're so sweet."

  "I'm serious, Amber," Cami said, mustering as much sternness in her voice as possible. "If everything goes sideways, I will not hesitate to kill someone in order to ensure your safety. You understand what kind of statement that is?" Cami asked. "You understand what I'm willing to do to ensure your safety?"

  Amber lowered her arms and nodded, hands in her pockets. She looked more like a 10-year-old than a 19-year-old. "Yeah—I guess that is pretty serious. I hadn't thought of it that way. I'm sorry, mom."

  Cami stepped forward and wrapped her arms around her daughter. "Don't be sorry, sweetie, just trust me on this one, okay? You can ask questions and second-guess my decisions all you want—in private. But in front of other people, just follow my lead, okay?" Cami turned to peer over Amber's head at Mitch. "The same goes for you too, mister."

  Mitch stood from the table and came to attention, snapping a smart salute. "Ma'am, yes ma'am." He lowered his arm, and the smile faded. "Seriously, Cami…I don't even know if I'd be alive right now if you two hadn’t come to my shop when you did. I'll do whatever you ask, whatever it takes. You just let me know. I haven’t been able to get through to my dad today, so you guys are kinda like…” He swallowed, his Adam's apple moving, casting a shadow on his shirt. "You guys are kinda like my only family right now," he said, his voice tightening. Mitch cleared his throat. "So, whatever you need, just say the word."

  Cami reached out an arm and pulled Mitch into a group hug.

  "Guys, we’re going to get through this. We just have to stick together."

  "I don't know how much more together we can get without it being illegal in 37 states," Amber muttered, her face pushed into Cami's neck.

  All three of them jumped back and laughed. "All kidding aside, this whole encounter with Mia has got me a little rattled. I’ll feel a lot better if we skipped through some things on our list and worked on security. What about you guys?"

  "I'm not looking over my shoulder and jumping at shadows, yet," Mitch said, “but Mia definitely got my attention. What do we need to do?"

  Cami narrowed her eyes out the window. "That rain is almost here. I'd like for us to get out there and get as much harvesting done as possible before the rain hits. We’re getting close to the end of the season, and I want to make sure we don't lose any of our crop out there. It might be critically important in a couple months, if things continue going the way I think they're going."

  "Sounds good to me. I’ll get a couple buckets from the garage and meet you guys out there," Amber said, walking out of the kitchen.

  Cami opened the back door and nodded for Mitch to lead the way. "Age before beauty," she muttered.

  Mitch laughed as he stepped out into the waning sunshine. He glanced up. "I think you're right, Cami-san, looks like a pretty good gully-washer coming in."

  Outside, Cami looked up at the dark clouds billowing on the horizon. "You know, we should collect the rain as much as possible, too.” She peered through the dense foliage toward Marty Price’s house. "I can barely see through the trees, but I do believe Marty is putting buckets on his back deck."

  Mitch nodded. "I'll go help Amber and see what we can find."

  Alone in her garden, surrounded by the dense, lush greenery and ripening vegetables, Cami inhaled the deep earthy scent and felt a sense of relaxation and calm descend on her shoulders. It was exactly what she needed. Nothing soothed her soul like getting her fingers in the dirt and tending her beloved plants.

  The only thing better would be if Reese came outside with a couple cold beers to assist.

  Cami felt the tears
well up, then clenched her jaw and shook her head. "No. The time for that's over—no more." She stepped forward through the little weathered wooden gate and approached her tomato plants. "Reese is on his own. I've got enough to worry about."

  Chapter 17

  Ellsworth, Maine

  An hour after leaving the remains of the Trenton Health Center, Reese had to call his little group to a stop. Mud flows, washed over the road from the remains of the tsunami, had completely congested the way forward. Reese struggled through shin deep mud, losing his deck shoes more than once. Red-faced and sweating, he bent over to give Ben, still hobbling along on his broken crutch, a chance to catch his breath.

  Ben closed his eyes, exhausted, sat in the muck, then fell onto his back, arms spread out wide.

  "He can't go much further like this," Jo said around deep breaths. “I…I don't how much…how much further I can go."

  Reese nodded, panting, and trudged his way through the debris-laden muck to Ben's side. “Hey—you hangin’ in there?"

  "I'm not gonna lie," Ben gasped, staring up at the late afternoon sky. "I've had better days…”

  "Ellsworth can't be that much further up the road,” Reese observed.

  "I can't," Ben muttered, closing his eyes. A shudder rippled through his body, and he wiped at his face weakly. "I can't. I'm done, dude."

  Reese rubbed his lower back and stretched, groaning with the effort. Looking around, he saw there were no standing buildings nearby of any kind. A house, off the road just west of their position, had been stripped to the foundations. Smoke drifted lazily up into the sky from a pile of debris spread out over about an acre of open land behind where the structure had once stood. Only bits and pieces of pipe and framing stuck up out of the mud to tell passersby that someone had once lived there.

  Reese turned his attention to the short, scraggly trees—or the remains of said trees—closer to the road. He forced his way through the mud and found two stout pine saplings, each a couple inches in diameter. “Jo, come over here and give me a hand."