Broken Tide | Book 6 | Breakwater

by Richardson, Marcus

  That fool in Bee’s Landing had started everything. Jenkins was a traitor from the get-go, that much was evident, but all of his problems were centered in Bee’s Landing now. The stubborn residents who’d refused to yield had been at the root of his problems since the tsunami hit.

  The woman—Cami—who’d so unmanned him before, when she was at his mercy. The daughter, the one that had kicked off all the violence and reprisals…and now the husband. Jenkins had explained everything. He’d used the husband to kill Cisco and he’d planned to wipe Bee’s Landing off the map.

  Cisco would kill the entire family if it was the last thing he did. He was the only one that was going to burn down the neighborhood, just like Rolling Hills.

  His ruined lips curled up on one side. It might just be the last thing he ever did. But he would go out with a smile.

  Cisco took another step, then another.

  Bee’s Landing awaited his bloody reckoning.

  Chapter 28

  Lavelle Homestead

  Bee’s Landing Subdivision

  Northwest of Charleston, South Carolina

  The first inkling Cami had that something had gone terribly wrong was when a young boy stepped out of the woods clutching a ragged, charred blanket. Work on the wall stopped immediately, and she, along with everyone else simply stood where they were and stared. It was Mia who gave a choked cry, and rushed forward, shoving her way through the workers to greet the little boy as he stood at the tree line.

  “What in the world?” Jo asked, standing next to Cami on the deck.

  Cami hobbled down the steps and tried to approach, but the press of people was too much for her. "Everybody! Clear a path please! Give them some space!" she called out. At the sound of her voice, most people backed up and returned to work.

  Cami found Mia on her knees next to the boy and talking quietly to him. “What’s your name?" she asked as Cami approached.

  "Tommy…” the little boy said. His round cheeks, covered in soot, had two clean streaks where tears had rolled down. His mop of brown curly hair contained twigs and sticks. It looked to Cami like the child had slept in the woods. His clothing, torn and ragged, hung off his emaciated body like rags.

  Mia turned and looked at Cami, pain in her glistening eyes. "Cami…” she breathed.

  "It'll be all right, Tommy,” Cami said. “We’re going to get you inside and get you some food and something to drink. Would that be nice?"

  "I want my mommy…” he whimpered.

  Grief clenched Cami's heart. She didn’t know how the child managed to survive out in the woods by himself but losing a parent—likely both—was something no child needed to suffer. She painfully lowered herself to the ground and let Marty's cane fall to the loamy earth. Holding out both arms, she didn't say anything, but waited until the child trundled forward and buried himself against her neck.

  "It'll be okay," Cami said into his hair as she wrapped her arms around his frail body. She gently ran her hands through his hair and held him tight. "It'll be okay.”

  "Cami!" someone called out.

  She turned and looked, and saw Gary pointing at the woods. He had a pistol in his other hand. She spun back, placing herself between the tree line and the child, and saw a man stagger out of the trees. He looked in much the same condition as Tommy, dressed in rags, covered in soot, mud, and blood.

  He stepped forward, leaned against a tree, and gasped for breath. "Is this…is this Bee’s Landing?” he asked. His eyes bored into Cami, wide and bloodshot.

  A shout of alarm went up from the wall.

  "Dad! There's more of them!" Mitch called from the house.

  In seconds, tools were discarded, people shouted, and the volunteers of Bee’s Landing came running, armed with whatever weapons they had at hand, a mixture of rifles and handguns. Others, who didn't have weapons, scrambled to get inside or around Cami's house. Still others, she saw with disdain, dropped their tools and sprinted away in any convenient direction.

  "Everyone with a gun, line up on me!" Gary bellowed. Instantly, those with weapons formed a picket line and aimed at more than a dozen people clambering through the woods.

  "Hold your fire!" Jo bellowed. "These people are unarmed!"

  As remarkable as it was, her observation was the truth. Not a single one of the bedraggled, ragged people that emerged from the tree line had weapons of any kind. Most of them barely had clothes.

  A few looked like walking skeletons with sunken eyes and swollen joints. With the child still behind her, Cami grabbed her cane and rose to her feet. Two women stumbled forward into the daylight and raised their hands to block the sun.

  "Mommy!" the little boy shrieked with joy. He bolted around Cami and sprinted for a young woman who looked scared to death as she dropped to her knees and sobbed in joy when she wrapped her arms around her boy.

  "I don't mean to be rude…” Cami said gently, "but who are you people? Where did you all come from?"

  Gary trotted forward from the line of defenders and stood next to Cami. "I don't think any of them are armed," he said, bewildered. "Who walks around without weapons—especially through the woods?"

  “We…we’re from Beaufort." The woman hugged her son again and stood holding him in her arms. "At least…some of us are," she said as she looked around. A few of the others nodded, the rest stared forward with blank looks on their faces.

  "I'm from Rantowles," one man offered.

  "Jacksonboro, here."

  "How the heck did you all get here?” asked Gary. “Closest town is Charleston and after that, you’re talking dozens of miles in any direction…”

  An older woman stepped forward. “Don't kill us, please!"

  Cami blinked. She looked at Gary. "Why on earth would we kill you?" Cami asked. "I was just going to offer you some food and water…it looks like y’all could use a little hospitality."

  One of the women broke down in tears, and a man nearby moved over to give her a shoulder to cry on.

  "Thank God!" one of the older men said as he dropped to his knees and raised his hands.

  "Does somebody want to tell me what exactly is going on here?" Cami asked.

  “The CPA—they told us that the people of Bee’s Landing were trying to wipe them out…that you guys would kill anybody on sight.”

  Cami and Gary shared a look with Jo. “Don’t look at me, I ain’t got a clue what y’all are talking about.”

  “But we didn't know which way to go…” the man continued. “One of the new guys said to go east, so we followed his lead…”

  Cami stepped forward and put a hand on the poor woman's shoulder. "Dear, nobody's gonna hurt you here. We don't even really know who this CPA really is, but I assure you, we’re just like any other neighborhood. We mean you no harm."

  The woman lowered her head, her body shaking with sobs.

  "Amber, Mia!” Cami called over her shoulder. "Let's get these people out of the woods and into some clean clothes if we have them."

  "I'm on it," Amber said.

  "Just follow us," Mia added, her voice loud and clear. "Come this way, we have food and water for you."

  Gary pulled Cami aside. "You sure we should just offer to shelter all these people? We don't know anything about them—and we’re already taking in the group that came in earlier…”

  “Y’all know I’m standing right here, right?” Jo asked, hands on her hips.

  "I know they're not scouts sent from Cisco," Cami said as she watched the bedraggled line of people emerge from the woods and follow Mia. "Look at them! They look more like escapees from a concentration camp! I've never seen anything like this in my life."

  Gary frowned. “All the same, I think…”

  Gunfire crackled in the distance and Gary froze. They looked at each other, and scanned the east side of the neighborhood. A muffled crump echoed through the subdivision, and a column of smoke rose in the distance.

  "We're under attack!" Gary yelled. "Quick reaction force—east side!" Without ano
ther word, he turned and sprinted across Cami's yard toward the road. Most of the people in the picket line turned and followed him.

  "Wait!" Cami called. "We can't leave the west undefended."

  "It's not," Flynt said as he jogged forward from the house. "I don't know what's going on, but the rest of us will stay here.” He turned to the remainder of the work crew and guards. “Everybody form up on me!” he said as he drew his massive Desert Eagle pistol and racked the slide back. "Stay sharp! It could be a diversion!”

  "What in tarnation is going on out there?" Jo hollered as she peered into the distance.

  "Mom!” Amber cried from the porch door. “I got people coming in the front of the house saying we’re under attack on the far side of the neighborhood!” She stared for a moment. “Who are all these people, and why are they coming from the west?"

  "It's the CPA! They're coming for us!” A refugee yelled. Panic erupted among the others—the refugees from the woods screamed and scattered. Several ran right back in the direction they’d just come, others sprinted to the north, and the rest ran for Cami's house. She tried in vain to stop them and watched in horror as an older woman was knocked to the ground in the crush.

  “Now just simmer down, there, partner,” Jo said, trying to stem the tide of people.

  "Contact!" one of the guards yelled and pointed toward the woods behind Cami.

  “There goes the neighborhood,” Jo muttered and lowered her arms.

  Cami spun around. "This has got to be Cisco," she said to Flynt.

  "I think you're right," he replied with a grim nod. "We need to retreat back to the house. We’re too exposed out here."

  "Agreed,” Cami agreed her eyes on the dark forest. “Start pulling people back—”

  “No, I meant you,” Flynt snapped. “Get in the house, Cami!” Flynt said as he stepped in front of her and put the bulk of his body between Cami and the woods. He raised the pistol. "You there! Freeze! We have you surrounded!"

  A branch snapped, and Cami heard a curse in a voice that came from her dreams.

  She took a step forward in what felt like slow motion and ignored Flynt’s plea to get behind him. She placed her free hand on his arm and pushed down. It was like pushing on a cinderblock wall, but he yielded and the hand cannon lowered.

  A man struggled through the briars and stepped into the sunlight, blinking. Like the others, he was dressed in rags, but he looked especially filthy and wore a full beard. Leaves and mud splattered all through his hair and beard. His arms and face looked like he'd spent a month in the sun. He was skinny, but Cami recognized his gait as soon as he moved.

  "Who are you?" Flynt demanded.

  “Well, I’ll be dipped in—” began Jo.

  "Since this is my yard, I guess I should be asking you the same thing," the refugee responded.

  Flynt stared at him, bewildered.

  He stepped forward boldly and stared down Flynt. "You didn't answer my question, pal—what are you doing in my yard?"

  "Reese?" Cami breathed. Her vision blurred—it couldn't be. “Reese?” she repeated.

  The man before her froze as if struck by lightning. His head turned slowly, and his eyes went round to see her standing before him with a cane, her hair in a tangled mess of a ponytail behind her head, her body laced with bandages. His eyes darted over her from head to toe and back again.

  “Cami?" he croaked. "Cami!”

  She let go of Marty's cane, ignored the pain in her leg, and lurched forward into her husband's arms. All the fear, all the tension, all the stress—all the worries of the last month—everything she’d suffered through had been in preparation for this moment. She was so exhausted she couldn't cry, but Cami tried just the same and squeezed him as hard as she could while her body trembled. "Don't you ever go away again!” she gasped. “Never leave me alone again! Never!"

  "I'm fine, thanks for asking," he said into her hair as he hugged her just as tight. "And don't worry, I'm never leaving your side again."

  “How you doin’, cowboy?” Jo asked.

  “You look better than the last time I saw you,” Reese said over Cami’s head.

  Jo laughed. “A hot bath will do that for a girl. You look like a dead possum that’s been sittin’ in the sun too long. Smell like it too,” she said, wrinkling her nose.

  “How long is too long for a dead possum to sit in the sun?” Reese asked.

  “You said you’d be right back,” Cami half-wailed, half-laughed.

  Reese snorted and turned back to his wife. “Yeah…so there was a little bit of a hiccup getting home from the fishing trip…” Reese wiped the tears from his eyes and looked up.

  Jo laughed. “Oh, that’s a good one…”

  "Come on, let's get you inside, we need to get you cleaned up," Cami said as she turned and tried to lead Reese toward the house.

  "Where's Amber? And what happened to you?" he demanded.

  "It's a long story…” Cami began, “and from the looks of it, we don't have time for long stories.”

  Smoke drifted high up in the sky and on the other side of the neighborhood. Gunshots crackled and echoed in the distance, and the last of the homestead defenders got into position around Flynt to protect the western flank.

  "Anybody see anything out in the woods?" Flynt said as he turned away from the happy reunion and resumed his duties as watchdog.

  Reese helped Cami limp her way toward the house as he fussed over her injuries. Jo held the door open and ushered them in. "Couple of folks came in all shot up and bloody just now,” she reported as Cami and Reese entered the kitchen arm in arm.

  "Where's mom?" Amber yelled as she was bent over someone on the floor, hastily applying water and bandages to a wound.

  “Amber,” Cami said with a smile on her face as she wiped away tears.

  Amber glanced over her shoulder. "Oh, there you are—look, I need some help…” her words trailed off as she stared. Her lip trembled as she turned to face Cami. "Dad? D-daddy?" she whispered.

  Reese burst into tears anew and dropped down to the floor to embrace his daughter. "Amber!"

  Amber slowly wrapped her arms around her father, as if in a dream, and her glistening eyes locked on Cami's. "Dad!" she yelled and squeezed him tight, careful to keep her bloodied hands away from his back. “Dad, you’re back!”

  Cami couldn't contain the tears that threatened to spill over her cheeks. She'd never been so happy in her entire life. She found herself pinned between her husband and her daughter, all three intertwined with arms, tears, and kisses.

  Cami was the first to disengage from the group hug. "This is amazing—my prayers have been answered, a dream come true!" she said, tripping over the words. She wiped her face and looked around.

  Jo smiled down at them and wiped at her own face with the back of her hand. “This is prettier than a field of bluebonnets on a Sunday mornin’.”

  The man on the floor moaned, and clutched at his arm.

  "Ohmygosh," Amber said quickly as she tried to wipe her face with her arm. "Travis!" She turned around, all celebrations shoved aside, and slipped into doctor mode. "Mom—or somebody! I need you to keep pressure on the arm while I get the suture kit ready," she commanded.

  "I'll handle this, Amber," Jo said with a long-suffering patience. She knelt down next to the man on the floor and patted him on the shoulder. "Buck up, buckaroo," she said with her Texas twang. “I’ll have you patched up and back in the fight in two shakes of a armadillo’s tail."

  “W-what?" the man moaned in confusion.

  "You should tend to your daddy,” Jo told Amber. “I was with him this past month, and we got banged up pretty good, but he looks worse than death warmed over, now.”

  “O-okay," Amber stuttered, sitting back with her hands raised in the air to keep from dripping blood all over the patient.

  Jo settled right in and got to work. She pulled out the stitching kit, used her knee to put pressure on the man's arm and staunch the flow of blood, then looked around
. "We got a piece of leather…a stick or something?"

  "What for?" Cami asked.

  "Unless you guys got morphine—and I'm plum out—this is going to hurt like the Dickens. Man may need somethin’ clamp down on so he don't bite off his own tongue."

  The patient's eyes bugged wide open. "Wait—what?"

  "Here, try this," Amber said as she plucked a mouthguard from the first aid kit on the floor.

  "Boy, you sure got some fancy stuff here, Reese," Jo said as she examined the piece of plastic, before she shoved it in the patient's mouth. "Okay, all you gotta do is bite down."

  He did so, and rolled his panicked eyes as Jo smiled at him.

  “Hold on to your, butt…” she said as she started the sewing.

  "Here," Amber said as she irrigated the wound once more with a squirt from a water bottle. Jo nodded her thanks and bent back to her task.

  "When did our daughter become a doctor?" Reese asked in amazement as he watched Amber and Jo work.

  "I was asking myself that same thing when she stitched up my leg."

  Reese gingerly touched the white bandage on Cami's thigh. A dark stain soaked the middle part. "Looks like you pulled something loose—what happened?"

  "I was shot," Cami said with a dismissive wave. "It was during the hurricane, after I escaped from Cisco."

  "Thank God we don't have to deal with him anymore," Reese said.

  "What do you mean?" Cami demanded. “This attack is Cisco…” She looked at Amber. “Isn’t it?”

  "I think he and his second-in-command finished each other off…that's where all these people came from—Cisco's version of a prison camp. They captured people out on the interstate and brought them back to that nature center—you know the one they never finished building out in the middle of the forest preserve?" Reese said as he helped Cami to her feet.

  "That's where they kept me,” Cami replied with a wince and a nod. “That's where they took Amber."

  "I'm not ready right now, but I'm going to need to know all about that at some point," Reese said in a quiet voice as he stared out the back door.