Broken Tide | Book 4 | Backflow

by Richardson, Marcus

  "Look, lady,” Darien said, his voice taking a harder edge that made her sit up. “It’s the frickin’ end of the world out there, okay? Things like laws and etiquette don't matter anymore—I was just trying to survive. We ran across these two ex-cons out there, and it made sense to have them join our group. The more people you have, the better your chances of survival. I was planning on taking down Cisco myself. He's a frickin’ wild animal, and sometimes they just got to be put down when they get rabies."

  "No arguments there,” she agreed warily. “Where is he?"

  Darien looked at Spanner. His lieutenant shrugged. “That’s the problem. After the fighting yesterday, who knows? We had a talk with some of the prisoners…” He crossed his arms. "Turns out the—"

  “The raiders?” asked the girl.

  “The same,” Darien replied. “The guy we talked to said Cisco was in command of the squad that hit us. And…”

  “There’s more?” demanded Lavelle. “This just keeps getting better and better…”

  “Unfortunately,” Darien replied as his irritation grew. He wasn’t used to so many interruptions, nor being talked to like a petulant child. “Remember those guys that tried to use the grenade launcher to blow down your door?”

  Lavelle nodded. “Not something one quickly forgets.”

  “Well, when we…talked…with them,” Darien said as he tried to find the right word, “they said Cisco was in charge, too.”

  Lavelle stared at him in the dim light for a long moment. “And…you just now decided to tell me all this?” she said in a quiet, dangerous tone.

  Darien frowned. He’d heard that tone of voice from many an ex-girlfriend. Lavelle was downright frightening when she was mad. His fingers itched to hold his Desert Eagle. “I’m tellin’ you now, ain’t I?”

  Lavelle shook her head. “That’s not the point. I was just getting to where I thought I might actually be able to trust you. I can’t believe this…” She stood. “Come on, Amber—“

  “Where are you going?” Darien demanded. “We need to discuss—“

  Lavelle chopped the air with her hand and silenced him. “Oh, no—there’s nothing we need to do other than get ready for another attack. You brought this animal here, not once, but twice!”

  “Look, we’ll handle the meth-head,” Spanner offered.

  “I’m not talking about him!” Lavelle snarled. She pinched the bridge of her nose and closed her eyes tight. She took a deep breath and continued. “I swear, it’s like I’m dealing with kindergartners…” She stared at him. “The fact that you brought that cretin in here, who attacked my daughter and her friend…that’s bad enough,” she said slowly. “You turned that sadistic animal you call Cisco loose on this neighborhood, then knew he’d come back and didn’t say anything to me…though I spoke up for you and convinced the people of Bee’s Landing to give you and your men a real chance instead of running you out of here on a rail—or shooting you, like a few others wanted.”

  Darien felt his blood pressure rise. “In my defense—“

  “I’m not finished!” she roared, under a full head of steam. “You,” she said, pointing an accusing finger at him, “didn’t give me so much as a courtesy heads up about Cisco. Then that…that…piece of filth came back here with an armored truck and thirty or forty men—to my home—and we barely managed to hold them at bay.” She paced behind the table. “We lost several houses—they’re all shot up, burned, and not safe to live in—on top of the fact that three people were killed fighting him off…”

  Darien spread his arms wide. “Would knowing Cisco was behind it all have made a difference?”

  “I don’t know!” Lavelle shrieked as she slapped the table. “That’s the point—we’ll never know! Because you didn’t say anything!”

  “He’s saying it now,” her daughter offered.

  She rounded on her daughter with such viciousness the girl stepped back. “Don’t you dare defend him!”

  “Look!” Darien roared as he got to his feet. “Enough is enough. We don’t have time for this—we need to come up with a plan. Now,” he said as he jabbed a meaty finger at the table.

  The sudden movement startled Lavelle and her pistol found its way into her hand in the blink of an eye. Darien saw the subtle movement but decided to pretend he hadn’t—he didn’t need her going any further down the crazy trail than she’d already gone.

  “Before you storm out of here all half-cocked,” he soothed. “You might want to think about the fact that this moron that caught Spanner off guard is likely spying on us for Cisco,” Darien said. “He’s tried the blunt force method, and it didn’t work out so well for him.”

  “He’s going to be sneaky about it this time,” Spanner added. “Like a snake. They’re sneaky.”

  “Gee, I hadn’t noticed,” the girl said with a snotty eye roll.

  “I’m pretty good at killing snakes,” Lavelle snarled as she held Darien’s gaze. The threat was probably the most serious he’d ever had thrown at him. He swallowed.

  “Let him come,” she said. Before she could say anything further, though, the back door flew open and the skinny guy with the beard that always hung around the girl stumbled into the darkened house.

  “There you are!” he blurted.

  Lavelle’s daughter ran to him. “What? What is it?”

  Bearded Wonder looked at Lavelle. “It’s Marty. He just collapsed out there,” he said as he jerked his thumb over his shoulder.

  Darien looked past the kid and saw a few people run by the open door. The music had stopped. The general buzz of conversation definitely leaned more toward worried anxiety, rather than celebratory exuberance.

  “Oh, no,” Lavelle breathed. “No, no, not now…” She pushed by Darien.

  “Who’s—“ began Spanner.

  “Mom, what do we do?”

  Lavelle bolted for the door. “We’re not losing him—come on.”

  Then all sprinted outside, and Darien was left alone in the kitchen with Spanner. His lieutenant crossed his arms. “Who’s Marty?”

  Darien frowned. The old goat that protected Lavelle was a liability, but he had a sound grasp on tactics. If it hadn’t been for the old geezer, Lavelle probably wouldn’t be alive to cause him any more headaches. But he knew how to fight, and he knew how to survive. That made the old man a valuable resource for the neighborhood. For him.

  “Dang it,” he muttered. “C’mon, we need to help.”

  Chapter 10

  Spalding Residence

  Bee’s Landing Subdivision

  Northwest of Charleston, South Carolina

  Cami rushed outside Harriet's house and found the party had come to a screeching halt. A dozen people clustered around Marty as he lay on the ground near the sweet tea station. Cami pushed and elbowed through the throng until Mitch bellowed behind her for everyone to get out of the way. The crowd parted and Cami rushed forward to Marty. Her hands hovered over Marty's chest. “What do I do?”

  Then Amber was by her side. “Watch out, let me check his pulse," she said in a matter-of-fact voice Cami thought reserved for veteran emergency responders. Her hands immediately went to his throat and his wrist. "Okay, I got something…” Amber was quiet for a moment and closed her eyes. The onlookers fell deathly silent. Cami held her breath.

  "I got a pulse,” Amber said, and opened her eyes with a smile. “It's weak, and not steady at all…” she looked at Cami. "Mom, his pulse is all over the place."

  Cami got to her feet. "We need to get him home. I hate to show up and leave the party so soon," she began. A chorus of understanding erupted around her, and volunteers stepped forward to help carry Marty home.

  "Thank you, thank you so much," Cami said with a smile.

  "Oh!" Harriet blurted. "I may have some stuff in the garage that we can use to make it easier to carry him." Several volunteers peeled off and followed her around the side of the house.

  Flynt emerged from the crowd and stepped up next to Cami. "I don't wa
nt to leave our conversation where it was,” he began.

  "Whatever your friend Cisco is planning—“ Cami began.

  “He's no friend of mine," Flynt said sharply.

  “Whatever he is to you, it’s a lot more than he is to me,” Cami said. “It doesn’t matter—I gotta take care of Marty. I don't have time to worry about the next problem that you've brought into Bee’s Landing.”

  “How was I supposed to know this guy was gonna go completely psycho?" Darien muttered under his breath.

  "Not my circus, not my monkey,” Cami retorted. “If he shows up here again, we’ll handle him, just like the first two times. I have more important things to worry about right now."

  Flynt wouldn't let it go. "Cami, look—I know we got off on the wrong foot here, but I want to make this neighborhood just as safe as you do—“

  She laughed and put her hands on her hips. “Oh, you do, do you?"

  "Mom, not the time!” Amber snapped from the ground next to Marty.

  The volunteers returned, and Cami stepped aside to let them pass with rakes and shovels. Harriet stepped forward. "Would you be a dear and go into the front room and take down the curtains? We can use those to make a sort of stretcher, I think," she said to one of the men. He nodded and disappeared inside the house. Everybody else maintained rapt attention on the conversation between Cami and Flynt.

  "You think because you stood by us during the fighting yesterday that what, now suddenly you have a say in what happens in this neighborhood?"

  Harriet held her hands up. “Okay, evidently I walked into a little—“

  “No, it's fine," Flynt said as he waved off Harriet. "Cami and I were just having a little difference of opinion over an urgent matter.”

  "Yes,” Cami said with a scoff, “a difference of opinion.”

  Flynt frowned. “Look, I know Bee’s Landing hasn't always been my home, and that you would probably say it still isn't my home, but me and my men have fought and bled for this place just as much as you guys have.” He looked around, as if recognizing the audience they’d gathered for the first time. “We, uh…we got started on the wrong foot, because this world is a crazy, deadly, nasty place. Nothing like what it used to be. But things have settled down now…and we have the same goals.”

  Cami raised her eyebrows. “This should be good,” she muttered.

  Flynt continued while the men put the improvised stretcher together. “I don't want to go back out there, and you don't want to face what's out there alone. The fact that I brought Cisco here is irrelevant—he's the kind of animal that would've found us, found this place, found some other place—it doesn't matter. Those kinds are always going to find people like you and me. They're always going to find places like this. What we do when they find us is what makes the difference. And we fought with you, side by side, shoulder to shoulder. We bled, and we died, too.” Flynt stepped back and raised his hands.

  A few heads in the crowd nodded along and murmured agreements floated on the breeze. “I can’t believe I’m hearing this…” Cami muttered.

  Flynt looked to the audience. “You may not want to trust me now, and I may not like you—“ he said to Cami, “but we need each other. This place needs both of us working together. You couldn't have held off Cisco and his men without my boys, and there's no way we had enough weaponry to fight him alone. The only way we’re all gonna get through this is if we pull together, or did that speech you made at the beginning of this party only count for the homeowners?"

  Cami took a deep breath and calmed her nerves. He’d trapped her with her own words. “Look,” she began in an even voice, acutely aware of all the eyes watching her. “We don't need to do this right now. My first priority is to make sure Marty gets medical aid.” She stepped back out of the way as the volunteers finished tying together a hasty stretcher. The four men pulled the handles—a shovel and a rake—apart and Amber and Harriet gently coaxed Marty's unconscious form onto the litter.

  Amber stood between Flynt and Cami, her face pinched with anger. “If you two want to argue, go somewhere else. I've got to take care of Marty."

  “We’re ready, Amber,” one of the volunteers said, with a hasty glance at Cami first.

  She directed the stretcher bearers to kneel. “Okay guys, ready? On three—lift nice and slow and gentle. One…two…three. And up—good." She turned around. "Mitch? Can I get a path?"

  He stepped forward. “You heard the lady! Let's clear a path, folks. Let ‘em through, please," Mitch bellowed as he limped forward. The wound he took in the battle still bothered his left leg and he wore the bandages as a badge of honor. Again, the crowd parted at his command. Cami noted the obedience they had to his deep, loud voice.

  "You're right, we gotta take care of Marty first." Cami turned to Flynt. "Let's both take tonight to cool off. We could talk in the morning. Agreed?"

  Flynt nodded immediately. "Agreed. For what it's worth, me and the boys are going to keep a close watch on the neighborhood tonight."

  “I can help!” Jon Boy exclaimed.

  Cami blinked. The huge man smiled at her and nodded. "That's…much appreciated. I—“ before she could finish her sentence, two hands raised and men stepped forward.

  "I'll volunteer to stand guard, too," the first said.

  "I will too," Merle added.

  John Douglass stepped forward and shook his head. "Merle, you're too sick, and you gotta look after Amy, besides. I'll do it—after I help get him across the street."

  Cami turned, torn between following Amber and Marty in the stretcher, and making sure the defensive arrangement was satisfactory. She didn't trust Flynt running the show by himself, but she couldn't be in two places at once.

  Amber sensed her hesitation and paused the litter. "Mom, you coming? I want to get Marty back to the house."

  Gary and Elizabeth appeared at Cami’s side. "We'll stay here, keep an eye on things. You go with Amber. It'll be all right," Gary insisted.

  "Are you sure?" Cami asked. "You’ve been working on this all day—I’d hate to have to make you spend all night out here, too…”

  "Seriously, it's not a problem,” Elizabeth said with an easy smile. “Go be with Marty. Mia and the kids will probably be along shortly, it's getting late."

  Cami nodded then turned back to Flynt. He stuck out his right hand. "I swear, nothing's gonna happen tonight. My word is my bond."

  Still doubtful, Cami took his hand and shook it. Something in his eye told her he was telling the truth. She nodded, thoughtful, and pressed her lips into a thin, disapproving, but amenable line. “We’ll see.”

  She turned and hurried to catch up to Amber and the litter.

  "Easy, easy does it…” Amber instructed the litter bearers. Cami smiled at the way her daughter took charge of the situation. She'd never been prouder as a parent. When Marty needed help, Amber had stepped forward and took control with alacrity.

  "All right, we’re almost down to the road, everybody just keep nice and level,” she called out.

  "He's moaning…” one of the litter bearers said. "Is that a good sign?"

  "I don't know,” Amber replied as she leaned over Marty. “I need to get him inside—just make sure you don't jostle his neck. Did anyone see what happened to him?”

  "I didn't see anything," said one of the litter bearers.

  "He was…” a second litter bearer began, then grunted as he stepped on a loose rock. Marty groaned again in the makeshift carrying device, but they didn't drop him. "He said something about not feeling well, and then next thing I knew he was on the ground."

  Once they'd successfully navigated the street and brought Marty partially up the driveway, Cami sprinted forward and unlocked the front door. Once inside, she moved ahead of them and lit candles in the front room. It was the only space on the lower floor that was big enough to house everyone at once.

  "Just bring him in here, slowly,” Amber said. “That's it, just put him gently on the floor right here."

  As Amb
er fussed over arranging a pallet of comfortable blankets and pillows on the floor, Cami moved into the kitchen and retrieved the medical handbook and also the first aid kit. When she returned, Amber had transferred Marty to the pallet on the floor and ensured his neck had remained stable. The volunteer litter bearers stood to the side and glanced at each other, unsure what to do next.

  "Thank you so much, guys," Cami said as she put a hand on John Douglass’ arm. "I really appreciate it. This'll make it easier for us to take care of him.”

  Taking his cue to leave, Douglass nodded, and gathered the others. "You take good care of him, Miss Amber," he said seriously. "That old geezer taught me a lot about hunting and trapping. Ain't ready to say goodbye to him yet."

  Amber looked up from where she knelt next to Marty's head. "Neither am I,” she said with a determined, strong voice.

  As the four volunteers left, Mia and the two boys returned. "Is he okay?" she asked as the boys stumbled into the house, half asleep.

  Cami pulled her out of the living room while Amber dealt with Marty. "I don't know, we don't exactly know what happened. We'll know more in a bit. Why don’t you get the boys settled and get some sleep, yourself? It's been a long day."

  "I'll get them down, then come back and see what I can do to help," Mia said. “Be right back." She turned to the children. "Okay, come on you two, it's upstairs for bed."

  Instead of arguing, they agreed readily enough—a sure sign that exhaustion had begun to set in. The boys stumbled upstairs and thumped around in the spare bedroom for a few moments, then grew quiet. True to her word, Mia returned shortly after, freshly changed out of her dress into shorts and a comfortable T-shirt for the warm evening ahead.

  "Okay," she said “I just splashed some water on my face—I’m awake. What can I do to help?"

  Amber looked up from Marty, her hands on either side of his head. "Crap, we forgot about Kirk."

  Cami looked at Amber, busy with her patient, and Mia, who stood in the room in her nightclothes. She sighed. "I'll go get him and some food. It might do Marty some good to have a familiar face by his side when he wakes up.”