Cami stared at the darkened ceiling of their screened-in porch. As far as safety was concerned, the thin mesh screens wouldn't stop anyone from busting through, but it was enough to keep the biting insects out, and it let Cami enjoy the cool night air in relative peace. "About an hour ago, just as I was about to fall asleep, I imagined somebody breaking through the screen on the window in my room. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it.
Amber was quiet for a long moment. "Thanks for that. Now I'm wide awake."
Cami snorted. "You asked."
"Even with the windows open, it's getting kinda stuffy in there," Amber said, moving her arm to indicate the interior of the house.
"I don't know how Mitchell can sleep on the couch in the living room like that.”
It was Amber's turn to snort. "He was snoring when I walked by just a minute ago.” She stayed quiet for a long moment. "If you're worried about people breaking in through the screens, why don't we put the hurricane shutters up?" Amber asked. “No one could get through those sheets of plywood. Well, at least not easily.“
"I thought about it." Cami took a pull from the water bottle. "Problem is, I haven't seen anybody else do it, and if we make this place look like Fort Knox, people will think we have something worth defending. That would make us a target.“
"Now you're starting to sound like Mr. Price," Amber joked.
"Every hour that goes by, and I see more crazy stuff happening—just in our neighborhood—and I'm thinking he's got the right idea."
Amber sighed. "Well, I gotta give him credit—we were able to collect a couple gallons of water today by putting all those buckets out when the storm hit."
"Might not be much,” Cami agreed, “but we didn't have very many containers out. We’ll be ready next time," Cami said. "I bet he's got a whole cistern buried out in his yard somewhere."
They sat in companionable silence for a moment, listening to the night sounds, insects serenading one another, and predators moving through the woods, calling on the wind. "I don't know if it's because the power’s out or I'm just getting older, but suddenly those woods out there seem a lot more comforting than spooky."
Cami smiled. "Probably a combination of both, sweetie. When you realize that there are a lot more things in the world to worry about than bogeymen and shadows in the night, the woods seem like a pretty safe place. Even with grizzlies roaming around."
"Well," Amber said, scoffing, "I'm not exactly worried about grizzlies—that’s only when you’re in Alaska, mom. But now that you mention people breaking in through the screens, you realize there's nothing between us and the outside right now but the screens in this porch, right?"
"Oh, there's nobody out there," Cami said, exhaling. “Could be black bears, I suppose…but no people.”
"How do you know that? You and dad have some night vision goggles you didn't tell me about?"
Cami laughed softly, surprising herself by the sound of her voice echoing through the yard. "You hear all the crickets and cicadas out there?"
"And the frogs, and owls—yeah,” Amber said, “so?"
"Trust me, if somebody was out there sneaking around, we wouldn't hear any of that."
"You’d bet your life on that?"
Cami reached out to her right and picked up the Glock sitting on the tray table next to her chair. "Not exactly—I have this, and my experience to back me up. If something is moving around out there, the insects and animals nearby are like an early warning system, if you know how to listen."
"Really?" asked Amber, her voice dubious.
"It’s saved my life a couple times when bears got a little too curious about our campsite out on Alaskan hunts."
Amber was silent for a long moment and they sat listening to the night again. "Mom, do you ever think…”
Amber fell silent as a sharp crack ripped through the night air, silencing all the animals and insects in the surrounding woods. Cami snatched her firearm from the tray table and sat up, cocking her head and listening, trying to determine the direction of the gunshot.
"Was that…?” Amber began in a voice far too loud for the situation.
"Sssh,” Cami hissed. "That was close.”
A moment later, they heard another gunshot, this one further away and muffled, just before a loud boom resounded through the neighborhood.
"Shotgun," Cami muttered. She stood and walked to the corner of the porch, pointing northeast. "That first shot sounded closer, but the other two were definitely coming from the other side of the neighborhood."
Amber stood and moved next to her. "Somebody having a shootout?"
Cami shook her head, then spoke, realizing Amber couldn't see the gesture. "I don't know. I didn't think things had gotten that bad so fast. It could be somebody tried to break into the wrong house—most people don't walk around carrying shotguns, you know?"
The screen door opened with a creak, and Mitch joined them, scratching his chest. "Somebody shoot a gun out here?" he asked, his voice echoing across the yard.
"Sssh,” Amber and Cami hissed together.
"Sheesh, sorry," Mitch whispered, shutting the squeaky door softly and feeling his way along the exterior wall to join Cami and Amber. "What's going on?" he whispered.
“We didn’t shoot a gun, but someone did—I’d say it was a pistol, and pretty close, too,” Cami said.
"Yeah, then somebody fired again—a little further away, and somebody else pulled the trigger on a shotgun."
"You saw all this?" Mitch asked,
