"The grocery store wasn't due to be restocked until tomorrow. It's already empty. This," the man in the Army hat said, nodding at the Walmart behind them, “is pretty much the last of the food that anyone in this town will be able to get anytime soon. Not unless somebody trucks it in from out-of-state, or the feds show up." He looked down at the ground and then back up at Reese again. "I guess what I'm trying to say is, thanks. You didn't owe us anything, but you folks stuck it out for our benefit."
"I just wanted someplace to sleep," Reese muttered.
"Pardon?" the older man said, leaning forward.
“He said we're glad we were able to make a difference," Jo blurted.
The man with the shovel nodded, smiled sadly, and excused himself.
Jo turned Reese roughly aside. "You mind telling me what that's all about?” She squeezed his good arm. Hard. “Might want to show little gratitude. These people took care of your friend."
"And where were they last night?” Reese demanded, fury in his words. Jo stepped back. “Where were they when we were out here all alone—we aren’t trained for any of this stuff," he said sweeping his good arm at the devastated landscape in the distance. "I just want to go home, Jo--not get caught up in whatever is going on here!"
Jo smirked. "Is that it? You just want to go home?" she said in a mocking voice, raising a thumb to her mouth like a toddler. “You want some cheese with that whine?"
Reese turned away, grimacing. She was right, he was acting like a spoiled kid. But—
Jo stepped in front of him. ”You look around, mister,” she said, her voice low and threatening. She poked him in the chest—hard. "Nobody's trained for this—whatever it is—we’re living through.” She raised her arms in frustration. “These people are just trying to survive, same as you and me. There's no one to blame," she said quickly, before Reese could open his mouth. "I tagged along with you because I saw from the beginning there was something about you—something that might get me to a safer place. Because you’re not a quitter,” she said, poking him again. “I got nowhere particular to go in this world—my family’s gone, kids are scattered across the country and won’t talk to me…the only thing I had was that job back on Cadillac Mountain, but I was gonna have to retire soon, anyway. I gave it up, though, to follow you."
Reese swallowed. His stomach tightened as if hit with a 2x4. Jo was right. He saw plainly the fear in her eyes and heard the uncertainty in her voice. She all but begged him to get his act together. Ben and Jo had relied upon him as a leader, and he'd managed to get them back to civilization.
Reese looked down at the fresh mound of dirt and mud at his feet. Fat lot of good that did Ben.
He stared off toward the east, where the sun brightened the morning sky. A jagged line of trees still standing marked the edge of the tsunami’s destruction. To the west, trees and vegetation appeared as they should. To the east, cutting straight across several roads, a line of gray-brown mud had been painted across the landscape. Most trees and plants still remained standing, but their lower limbs, branches, and leaves were all caked in mud—some had already begun to wilt.
Further east, just barely visible in the distance, the true evidence of the tsunami’s power was laid bare to see. Trees had been leveled as far as he could see to the horizon and vegetation stripped clear. Mounds and mounds of debris and wreckage dotted the landscape. Birds gathered by the hundreds, swirling and keening in the air. Gulls, crows, grackles—even vultures with their wings spread wide—circled in the air--it was a macabre spectacle.
"Now I need to know…and right now," Jo said in a shaky voice. "Can you handle this? Are you going to snap and break, or are you fixin’ to cowboy up and get this job done?" She shook her head and stepped back, hands on her hips. "Because I gotta tell you what I'm seeing right now, that ain't gonna work. You act like this much longer, and you'll never see your wife and baby girl again, you hear me?” She glared at him. “At this point, I half want to see ‘em myself. Not like I got anywhere else to go…” she muttered, looking away.
Reese cleared his throat and squared his shoulders, ignoring the jolt of pain from the knife injury. "You're right."
Jo looked at him, waiting in silence, eyes narrowed in suspicion.
"You're right," Reese repeated, more forcefully. He shrugged his good shoulder. “I lost it…I cracked. Ben…” Reese looked down at the mound. "I never expected to lose him. I never expected any of this to happen—I just didn’t…” He blew out his breath and inhaled deeply. "There is nothing more important to me in this world than getting home to my wife and daughter." He looked straight at Jo. "Nothing."
A smile spread across Jo’s face. "That's the Reese I wanna see," she said, jabbing a finger at him. "That's the man that ain’t gonna take ‘no’ for an answer! That’s the man who’s gonna knock down any two-bit thug who stands in his way! That's what I'm talking about," she said slapping him on his good shoulder.
Reese swallowed, then knelt by Ben's grave. He picked up a fist full of fresh dirt, squeezed it in his hand, then pressed it down on top of the mound. "We've been through a lot, man. From college to TechSafe…you were always there for me, and the one time you needed me, I wasn't there for you. I'm more sorry than you'll ever know.” He looked up at the sky, blinked, then looked down again. “I just hope if you're still somewhere nearby, you can forgive me." Reese stood and wiped his hand on his mud-caked shorts.
Jo stepped next to him and wrapped a meaty hand on his good shoulder, squeezing gently. "I'm sure he does. In the little time that I knew him, that dude didn't seem to have a grudging bone in his body. Goofy, yeah, but grudging? I don't think so." She turned Reese to face her again. "You know the best thing you can do to honor his memory right now?" she asked. "Don't die. Make your life mean something—get back to your wife and daughter. I ain't overly religious, but something in my gut tells me that things will be okay between you and him if you make it back to your family."
Reese didn't know what else to say, so he nodded.
She pressed Ben’s cell phone against his chest. “Here. Take this. The cops said we could have it since we’re the closest thing to next of kin. It was all he had on him and I think he’d want you to have it.”
Reese took the phone and immediately pulled up the messaging app. “It’s still got a signal! Not strong, but it’s there…”
Jo chuckled. “Well, what are you waitin’ for? Call your wife already.”
“It’s not going through,” Reese muttered in frustration. “I’ll try a text message.” He tapped out a missive with trembling fingers and hit send. “I hope that gets through…”
"I'm sorry I missed the service," a voice said behind them.
Reese held Ben’s phone tight and turned to see Ellsworth’s top cop trudge through the weeds behind the Walmart and approach the fresh grave. Three more had been laid out at the far corner of the building, the eternal resting places of the officers who’d died after the riot. As he approached, Foster stuck out his left hand for an awkward shake.
Reese pocketed the phone and shook hands. "Thanks," he said. He nodded toward the three graves in the distance. "I'm sorry about your loss. I hear they were good men."
"The best,” Foster said, his voice tight. He cleared his throat. “I heard the same about your friend” he said, looking at Ben's grave. "I know things have been a little…rough…for you since you showed up in town, but I wanted to thank you personally for what you did last night."
"Did they get much?" asked Jo.
Foster shook his head. “Nah—handful of camping supplies, bunch of watches and jewelry. Idiots weren't thinking right last night, that's for sure. We'll be all right. But it could've been a lot worse if you folks hadn't been there to scare ‘em off.“
Reese scoffed. "I think I was the only one scared off.”
Foster looked at him square in the face and held his gaze for a long moment. “Judging by the amount of blood left on the floor when you slashed that guy, I'd say you did a fair amo
unt of active dispersal, Lavelle."
Reese glanced down at the knife in his belt, encased in a brand-new sheath, courtesy of the grateful Walmart manager.
"Didn’t know what else to do," Reese muttered.
Foster grimaced and looked to the horizon. "I'd say what you did was just fine. I've got a proposition for you," he said abruptly, turning back to look at Jo and Reese. "I heard from the doc that checked you over last night that you guys want to get home. But I'm asking if you’d stay for a while longer.”
"I don't know what's going on here," Reese said, looking over the little town of Ellsworth. "But I don't think me and my friend here belong in the middle of it."
Foster took his hat off and glanced at the POLICE patch on the front while he spoke. "Oh, there's not much going on. Just some rabble-rousers with too much time on their hands, I suppose. It's not like we have a gang problem here." He snorted. "Ellsworth's too small to be on anybody's radar. This will all settle down in a day or two."
Reese shook his head. "I'm not so sure it will. And every day I stay here is another day my wife and daughter are alone back south."
Foster put his hat on and tugged the bill low over his eyes. “Well, I won’t begrudge a man wanting to get back to his family. I suppose with everything going on, family’s the most important thing left nowadays. If you won’t stay, at least let me get you geared up. You didn’t have anything worth talking about when you walked into town last night, and you got even less now, I suppose.”
"Chief, I—” Reese began.
“No,” Foster said, holding up his good hand to stop Reese’s argument. “Wouldn’t be neighborly. I’ll get you kitted up with weapons, ammo, and food and water. I’m not turning you loose out there to fend for yourselves—what with you all cut up on my account,” he said with finality.
Reese started to say something, but Jo grabbed his arm and spoke first. “That’s mighty nice of you, Chief Foster. We’re much obliged.”
Foster looked them both over one more time, nodded to himself, grunted. “Ahyup. We’re in for a blow, I figure. Least I can do is give you a proper downeast sendoff. Tell you what—meet me out front in, say a couple hours. I’ll make sure you have a ride to the edge of town. We got plenty of gas for the squad cars and nowhere really to go. It’s the least I can do.”
Overwhelmed with the show of gratitude, Reese found a lump in his throat prevented him from speaking. He nodded and managed to croak his thanks.
And so, a little over two hours later, Reese and Jo found themselves standing alone on the road that marked the western limit of the town of Ellsworth, Maine. Glivens said his goodbyes, handed over another box of ammo for the matching pistols Reese and Jo carried—courtsey of the Ellsworth PD—got in his squad car and drove back to town.
Silence once again descended around them, and the two refugees from Mount Desert Island stood in the middle of an empty road and stared south through the whispering pines toward an uncertain future. And home.
They both carried backpacks donated from the Walmart, filled to the gills with freeze-dried camping food, bottles of water, ammunition, spare clothes, and more first-aid supplies than Reese could count. Jo carried a shotgun over her shoulder, and Reese carried the ammo. They had tarps for keeping the rain off them, each carried a lightweight summer sleeping bag tied to the bottom of their packs, and a supply of disposable ponchos. The town doctor had changed Reese’s dressings and given him a week’s worth of antibiotics, and also provided him with a fresh, proper sling, to replace the grubby, blood and mud-stained t-shirt that Jo had originally used.
Both wore clean shirts, shorts, and new hiking boots. Jo’s legs, exposed to the sunlight for the first time in decades, were a bright pasty white. They’d trashed their filthy, ragged clothes, but she refused to discard her weathered park ranger’s campaign hat.
“Well, don’t we look ridiculous,” Reese said after a long moment of listening to the birds in the trees.
Jo snorted. “Speak for yourself, Hoss. I represent the height of late summer fashion,” she said, striking a pose with her hip out and one arm up over her head.
They both laughed. “Shall we?” Reese asked, inclining his head toward the empty road south.
“Oh, yes, let’s do,” Jo said, affecting a British accent.
A short while later, they emerged from the pine forest as the road swept back toward the coast. The ground rose slightly, just south of town, and the brisk walk had raised beads of sweat on Reese’s forehead, but the exercise so far felt good. Walking on smooth asphalt allowed him to stretch the long muscles of his legs and back after the tortuous three-mile hike from the coast through debris and mud the day before.
The sun warmed his healing face, and the breeze cooled the sweat glistening on his brow. Birds chirped in the trees, and the world felt at peace. There were no planes flying in the skies, no helicopters, no cars racing down roads. Everything was quiet and natural, as it should be.
Then they emerged from the tree line and saw the destruction further south along the coast. The hill they’d crested sloped down toward the Atlantic, and the mega-tsunami’s wrath lay evident for them to see for miles around. Like near Ellsworth, trees proved no match for the power of the raging ocean. Raw, bare earth, still glistening in the sunlight, had been exposed for miles. The black ribbon of road cut through the debris and disappeared under large swaths of mud flow. The tsunami’s damage was complete and to Reese’s mind, apocalyptic.
Next to him, Jo whistled, low and soft. “I was starting to think it was all a dream…” she muttered.
Reese narrowed his eyes at the destruction before them, watching water still seeping over the cliffs and falling to the ocean below. It reminded him of a Salvador Dali painting.
“No,” he said after a long moment. “No, it’s not a dream, Jo. It’s an obstacle. Just another wall to climb over…”
“And if we can’t climb over that wall?” Jo asked softly, still taking in the ruined landscape ahead of them.
“Then I’ll smash through it.” Reese turned to Jo. “I swear to you: nothing is going to stand in our way of getting to South Carolina. Not this,” he said, pointing at the mud flow and the devastated coastline, “not criminals or rioters like we dealt with last night…nothing.”
“That water was unstoppable,” Jo said, trancelike, looking over Reese’s shoulder.
“We will be, too. Let’s go,” Reese said, clenching his jaw and taking his first step toward the devastation. “We have a long road ahead of us.”
Broken Tide Book 2
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Broken Tide | Book 1 | Overfall Page 24