“That’s great!” Amber beamed. “I’ll try dad.”
“While we’re waiting for a reply, let’s get on the road. I don’t like the way people are running out of Walmart. Look…” Cami said, indicating the flow of people running from the department store. Some carried plastic bags full of purchased merchandise, others just carried armfuls of items, heedlessly dropping things in the street as they moved.
A gunshot, loud and sharp, echoed across the street. All three of them turned north. Most people in the parking lot did the same, even the people running from Walmart. Screams erupted by the storefront and the crowds shifted into panic mode. People down in the street by the bridge bolted and knocked each other over in an effort to get as far away as possible from whoever had fired the gun.
“Let’s go!” Cami said. She made for the car, with Amber and Mitch on her heels. Fumbling with her keys, she got the car open.
“Where do I---” Mitch started.
“I don’t care—just get in, get in!”
“Mom, what’s happening?” Amber cried, her hands shaking as she climbed in the front seat and tried to strap in.
“I don’t know, but we need to get out of here,” Cami said as she slammed the driver’s door. She glanced out Amber’s window and gasped. “Look!”
Amber and Mitch looked where she pointed. A fresh wall of smoke and haze appeared in the ravaged city, sweeping forward like a slow-motion fog, enveloping buildings. A few structures wavered, then fell in slow motion as the water under the smoke rolled toward them.
“The second wave,” Cami said, her voice quiet. “It’s here already…”
“Oh, hey!” Mitch blurted, pulling his phone out of his pocket. “It’s dad! He got my message…”
“What’s he say?” asked Amber, craning around her seat to look at his phone.
“He’s…not at the marina!” Mitch said, looking up with relief on his face. “He got out—he’s across the river!”
“Where?” asked Cami, looking around. The flood of people leaving Walmart hadn’t slacked at all. A fire door about ten feet away burst open and two men and a woman raced out, all carrying armloads of merchandise. Only one bothered to look at Cami, and the expression on his face did not do anything to calm her racing heart. His eyes shifted from her to the kids, then to the car, where they lingered for a long moment, before he sprinted to catch up with the other looters.
“Guys,” Cami said, “They’re stealing stuff from the store. We’re too close…”
“But, Mitch—” Amber started.
“He can tell us in the car—I’ll move us to the other side of the parking lot while he texts, but we need to get away from the building. There’s too many people right here, and I don’t want to be a target.”
Cami weaved the car through people pushing overloaded shopping carts, and almost ran into a Walmart worker who carried a TV. He snarled something at her and moved on.
"Where's your father, Mitch?" Cami asked, eyes forward, looking for trouble. She kept her hands on the wheel and the car in gear. She’d backed them into a spot in the far corner of the parking lot. The lot was by no means empty, but they occupied the least busy corner. It was also in the opposite direction of where they'd have to go in order to exit the parking lot and head home.
Cami watched cars pile up at the main exit, calculating the route she'd take to get around the people leaving Walmart. Even with the windows up and the air on, she clearly heard a second gunshot in the distance. "Come on, Mitch, what's the deal? Things are escalating."
"Oh..." Mitch said from the backseat, looking at her in the rearview mirror. "He's a little north of us. Looks like he got across the river just before the wave hit. He's okay, and he says mom is okay. He wants me to get someplace safe, but we don't know where to meet. He doesn't have a car!"
Cami nodded to herself. "Tell him he's welcome to come to our place. Does he still have the address?"
"Hang on—I’ll let him know."
"You still have our address?" Amber asked, tucking a lock of hair over one ear.
Mitch cleared his throat. "Well, yeah…I mean it's just in my phone.”
"You're more than welcome to come with us too, Mitchell. I think the key thing to remember here is we need to get out of town—right away. If your father’s safe for the moment, and your mother’s…?”
“Oh, she’s at home.”
Cami nodded. “If she’s at home, then I think it’s best you come with us. I know if it were Amber, I’d want to know she was safe, above all else.“
"Okay,” Mitch said, “I just let him know the plan.“
“Dad hasn’t replied…why hasn’t he replied?” asked Amber.
“Maybe he’s busy,” Cami suggested, distracted. “We can’t worry about him right now, sweetie.” She shifted into gear. “We’re outta here. Amber, I need your eyes. Help me keep a lookout—we need to avoid these crowds and get back on the road. I’ve never seen so many people in this parking lot before!”
“Got it,” Amber replied, sitting up. “Let’s roll!”
Cami carefully threaded her way through the cars, ignoring honks and gestures as she tried making her way across the parking lot, going against the flow of traffic and pedestrians. It took almost ten minutes, but they finally managed to weave their way through and make it to the side exit. Only three other cars had attempted the same route.
"What does everybody know that we don't? Why aren't more people trying to go this way?" Amber asked.
Cami grunted, her hands gripping the wheel with white knuckles. "Beats me—far as I know, it's just a neighborhood over there.”
“You’re right,” Mitch said from the back seat. “According to my phone, the neighborhood doesn't have easy access to the main road.”
A soft ding emanated from the backseat. "Dad got my message," Mitch said, reading from his phone. "He says to say thank you, Cami, and that he doesn't know if he can ever pay you back."
Cami scoffed at the sentiment. "Oh, Reese and your father go way back—there's no need for payback. Just make sure he knows to come to our place and pick you up."
"He says he can’t get to his car, but he'll do his best to get to your place when he can. It may be a few days." Mitch looked up. "How is it possible for it to take a few days to get to your place?”
“We’re only 30 minutes from here," Amber said, wrinkling her nose in concern. “Is he gonna walk?”
"I don't know," she said, keeping one eye on her phone mounted in the little cradle on the dashboard. Cami turned onto one of the maze of residential streets next to the Walmart and pulled away from the other cars. The neighborhood appeared deserted, but as they turned another corner, she noticed a man in front of his house, loading overstuffed suitcases into a minivan.
The maps app depicted a blue line weaving through the neighborhood, eventually emerging on the southwest side of the subdivision. It might take them an extra 15 minutes to get home, but the route she picked avoided the biggest population clusters and hopefully provided clear roads back to their place.
“At least we’re not dealing with wall-to-wall traffic anymore,” Mitch offered.
"I know you're worried about your father, Mitchell,” Cami said, in a soft, comforting voice. "We'll do whatever we can to help, you know that, right?"
"Thanks, Cami-san,” Mitch said from the backseat, sounding more like the 10-year-old Cami remembered than the 20-year-old man she saw in the mirror.
"Look,” Cami continued, “when we get home and unloaded, I want to make sure the house is ready for whatever's coming." Cami closed her eyes at a stop sign, took a deep breath, and opened them.
It was time to go home.
Chapter 9
Summit Station
Cadillac Mountain
Mount Desert Island, Maine
Reese carefully helped Ben out of the back seat of the Prius after they'd stopped in the ranger station parking lot. There were only four other vehicles and a small clump of people at the little sc
enic overlook on the east side of the gravel parking area. A family of four huddled together off to the side, and as they all watched the tsunami envelope the island, a few gasped and murmured.
"Looks like somebody got banged up," a Texan drawl called out behind Reese. He turned Ben toward the small ranger station, a squat brick building trimmed out in pine logs and weathered cedar shake roofing that looked older than him. On the wide front porch, next to a large wooden welcome sign, stood a woman almost as large, with her hands on her hips. She had a long gray ponytail that reached over one shoulder to her waist, but the two-tone ranger uniform was unmistakable under her wide-brimmed campaign hat. She nodded to herself. "Well, bring ‘im on in, then—I'll have a look."
Ben grimaced, leaning on Reese. “Don't roll your eyes at me, man—I don’t care who she is—get me inside. My leg is killing me!" Aiden moved over to support Ben’s other side, and the three of them hobbled up the wooden steps while the grim-faced ranger held the door for them.
Reese, as a native South Carolinian, didn’t consider August in Maine “hot weather”, but he couldn't help but notice the difference in temperature as they stepped into the ranger station. Moving past wall-size maps of the island and its fjords, created by prehistoric glaciers, Reese marveled at the natural beauty Mount Desert Island offered. They shuffled by samples of dried local flora and taxidermies portraying island wildlife, all interspersed with rocks collected from all over Acadia National Park.
Reese and Aiden helped Ben limp toward the doorway marked ’authorized personnel only.’ The ranger moved quick despite her bulk and opened the door ahead of them.
"Take ‘im on in, first room on the left. There's a cot. It’s for emergencies only, but as I might be the only ranger left on this island, I’m declaring this a dadgum emergency.“
Reese turned sideways to help Ben navigate the narrow door, shaking his head at the insanity of the day. After all they’d been through, now, instead of hearing a nasal New England accent at the park ranger station, he found himself with a Texan.
Reese helped Ben lie down on the cot, and gingerly helped the injured leg straighten out. Ben winced, clenched his teeth, and gripped the side of the cot with white knuckles.
The ranger clicked her teeth as she approached, rolling up the sleeves of her uniform. "Take a fall on one of the trails?" she asked.
“I-I…uh…” Aiden stammered, hovering in the background.
"Spit it out, son," the ranger said over her shoulder, removing her hat and placing it on the cot next to Ben. She whistled, looking at the swollen knee adorned by cuts and scrapes down Ben's leg.
"I kinda hit him with my car," Aiden blurted. “My dad’s car,” he added, looking at the floor.
"I'll say," mumbled the ranger. She glanced at Ben. “Alright, then. Let’s get this dog and pony show on the road. Any sharp pain or grinding when you move it?"
Ben shook his head, beads of sweat on his brow. "No, just constant pain."
"How about your toes?" she asked. "Can you move ‘em? And your ankle?" She watched as Ben moved his toes and rotated his foot, albeit slowly. She nodded. "Well, I don't think anything’s broken. Can you bend that knee at all?"
Ben shook his head, a little jerk. “Not much—feels thick as mud—but it moved a little when we got out of the car."
The ranger nodded to herself and crossed her arms. “Yep, don't reckon you broke it, but you might've wished you had. I've seen plenty of sprains from people fallin’ on the hiking trails around here in my time. And this looks like a honey of a sprain. Don't think there's much I can do…but I got some fabulous government ice packs,” she said, standing with a grunt. “Don't go nowhere, now—be back in a jiffy.”
Ben arched an eyebrow and looked at her as she left. "Really? A jiffy? Golly gee willickers!“
Reese wanted to snicker but found he couldn’t. A few hundred feet away, the wrath of the ocean was destroying the town of Bar Harbor. Who knew how many people were drowning as they stood there, mincing words with the odd ranger?
“Dad's gonna kill me," moaned Aiden.
Reese ran a hand through sweaty hair. He hadn’t even thought about the kid. The trip was supposed to have been a four-day jaunt, not a week-long expedition.
“He’s gonna kill you? Just wait till I get on my feet again…” Ben groused.
Reese stared at the map of Acadia National Park on the wall above Ben's head. It was a smaller version of the massive, relief carved map that covered the wall out in the lobby. "I don't think you have to worry about cops or insurance, Aiden. Everyone has something much bigger to worry about."
His gaze drifted over the map as his mind traveled south. When would the wave hit South Carolina? Was it really that big? Would Cami know it was coming? Did anyone on the mainland know? The scattered reports from the Coast Guard didn't give him a lot of confidence that the general population had been warned.
He and Cami had lived through their fair share of hurricanes in the Carolinas—even if a warning went out, he knew a good number of people would ignore it and stay put. He closed his eyes and rested his head against the cool cinderblock wall. If what he’d just witnessed coming ashore was any indication of what was happening down the seaboard, there was a fair chance that life as he knew it had just ended.
This was everything Cami had been preparing for…for the last decade of their lives together. And he was 1,300 miles away from home. From Cami, from Amber.
In short order the ranger interrupted Reese’s morose line of thinking, bustling into the room with ice packs, ACE bandages, and Advil for Ben. She hummed a tuneless song while she worked, placing the cold packs at strategic locations around Ben’s swollen knee, then strapping everything down with bandage, ignoring his grunts of pain. When she was all done, she dusted her hands off and handed him a bottle of water and some Advil, advising him to drink up.
"I'm no doctor, but I think this is the best you're gonna get for a while."
Reese extended his hand. "Thank you. I’m Reese—this is my friend Ben, and this is Aiden.”
“Also known as the guy who hit me with his car," grumbled Ben.
"Dude, I am so sorry,” Aiden said, his face turning red once more.
The park ranger nodded, putting her hands on her hips again. "I'm Jo. Not Joanna, not Josephine, just Jo. Nice to meet all of you. Though I wish it would've been because y'all wanted to come up here and take a tour." She shook her head. “Nobody much wants a tour anymore. They stop by for the bumper sticker, snap a few pictures and take a lookie-loo over the side, then it’s off we go, down the hill to get some lobster salad sandwiches.” She shook her head, again. “Never seen anything like this before, that's for sure."
Reese stared at Jo for a long moment. “I’m pretty sure no one's ever seen anything like this," he replied slowly.
Ben cleared his throat. ”You have any news about the rest of the coast?"
Jo pointed a thumb over her shoulder. "Got a radio in the office, but it's pretty short range.”
“Hey, it’s better than what we have,” Reese said.
“Which is nothing,” Ben added.
“Well,” Jo said, picking up her wide brimmed hat off the cot, “Right now it's only picking up emergency broadcast beacons and distress calls from ships. It's a jumbled mess out there, I tell you what.”
Reese wiped the sweat off his forehead and stepped out of the room, as Aiden peppered her with questions. He walked back into the lobby, looking through the windows at the families huddled together out in the parking lot. Most cried or comforted children, while some stood there like tourists, pointing down the mountain at the tsunami.
If he’d listened to Cami…
“I said I’m sorry!” Aiden cried from the back room.
Reese blinked and cleared his thoughts. He had to get back to his girls, but he couldn’t do that without knowing what had happened between Maine and South Carolina. He had an unobscured view down the east slope of Cadillac Mountain toward the biggest town on t
he island, Bar Harbor. Smoke rose into the sky from two competing plumes, one black, one white, at opposite ends of the inundated town. Once the idyllic playground of the rich and famous, even from the summit, Reese could tell there would be little left of the historic coastal town when the waters receeded.
"That's an all-fired mess down there," Jo said quietly, appearing at Reese's side. "I think your friend’ll be okay, given time. But that?" She shook her head again. "Ain’t no coming back from that. Bar Harbor’s gone.“ The words squeaked off at the end, as her voice suddenly grew tight. She handed Reese a water bottle and cleared her throat.
He nodded his thanks, twisted the cap off and took a long pull of the cool, clean water. "Thanks,” he said, exhaling. “Yeah, it looks bad." He stared out the window with her for a moment. “Did you…did you have anyone down there?”
Jo sighed. “Only memories. I got no one east of the Mississippi. I only came out here for the solitude. Alaska was my first choice but there’s a waiting list. And bears. You?”
“No. My family’s in South Carolina.”
“Really?” She snapped her fingers. “Shoot. I had you pegged as a Georgia boy.”
Reese shook his head, refusing to rise to the bait. “I have to go,” he muttered. “I have to get home."
Jo sighed. "Judging by your accent, I knew home wasn’t down there. And that's probably a good thing. But mister, wherever home is, I don't think you're getting there anytime soon."
"No, you don’t understand,” Reese said. “I got a wife and daughter waiting on me."
"What's a South Carolina boy doing all the way up in Maine?" Jo asked, cocking an eyebrow.
Reese felt the corner of his mouth twitch. "I was going to ask why a cowgirl from Texas was up here…”
She let out a throaty, hoarse, smoker’s laugh. "It's been a long time since someone's called me ‘girl.’ Thanks for that," she said, snorting. “As for why I'm up here, well…that's a long story about a horse and a dog. No offense, but we just met."
Broken Tide | Book 1 | Overfall Page 10