Cami felt the heat rising in her cheeks and stepped away from the window. "You did good guys, you did good."
“See anything out there?" Mitch whispered. "I feel so useless standing here in the dark.”
"No, I don't see anything," Cami said, peering through the windows again. "I know you're not useless, Mitch. There's always safety in numbers. And I swear guys, first thing tomorrow, we’re going to go over firearms basics. This is only the second night since the tsunami hit, and I'm not going to be able to protect us all night long if I'm the only one who knows how to shoot."
"Well, I don't mean to brag," Mitch said, "but I am pretty good at Modern Conflict—I’m nationally ranked…”
"This isn't a video game, Mitch,” Amber said.
"She's right," Cami replied. "But while that kind of experience doesn't make you a combat veteran, it does put you ahead of the game compared to someone who's never held a gun before."
“See?” Mitch said toward Amber, “I—”
“Barely,” Cami warned. “It is just a video game.”
"Mom, you and dad taught me how to shoot years ago."
"We did," Cami said, stepping away from the window and feeling her way toward the couch on the far side of the room. She dropped with a grateful sigh and collapsed into the warm material. "But when was the last time you went to the range?"
Amber was quiet for a moment. She listened to her daughter walk across the carpet and join her at the couch. "I guess it was when I was back in high school. Daddy took me…”
"That's better than nothing, but you're going to be rusty. Don't worry," Cami said, her spirits rising the more she thought about it. "We'll get you guys checked out in the morning. Before long, they'll be three of us armed and ready.”
Another gunshot split the night, loud and much closer than before. Amber jumped from the couch, muffling a shriek of surprise.
"What was that?" Mitch said from the other side of the room. “That didn’t sound like a pistol. I’d guess a rifle…”
"That was an AR," Cami whispered. “I think Mr. Price just shot at something."
"There goes the neighborhood," Mitch muttered.
Chapter 19
Ellsworth, Maine
Reese looked down at the trash-strewn ground. “You mean we have to sleep here?”
Cal Foster shrugged. “It’s not like I have a Motel 6 ready for you…” He took off his ball cap labeled POLICE and wiped his brow. “Honestly, you’re lucky we don’t run you off. Don’t have enough supplies for the folks from town, let alone outsiders.”
“Outsiders?” asked Jo. “I’m a park ranger on Cadillac Mountain.”
“Sound like a Texan to me,” Foster retorted. “That’s outsider enough in times like these.”
Jo stepped forward, but Reese put out an arm. “He’s right, we can’t look a gift horse in the mouth. Thanks, Officer Foster—”
“Cal’s fine.”
Reese nodded. “Either way, Cal, we’re grateful for a place to lay down and rest. After the day we’ve had…”
Foster lead them away from the already returning group of agitated locals. “Must have been quite some walk to get here.”
“You have no idea,” Jo muttered.
“You see the waves?”
Reese looked at Foster. “Yes.”
The cop took the hint and cleared his throat. Looking at Ben, he said, “Your friend here looks injured. I wish I had an aid station set up, but…” he shrugged. “Power went out, and we got swamped with people fleeing the coast. About half moved on through, but the others stayed…and since then, I’ve been dealing with fights breaking out everywhere. Local against outsider, local against local…it’s like everyone decided now’s the time to even up accounts on old grudges. Doesn’t make any sense.”
“Nothing like a disaster to bring out the best in people,” Reese groused. “You seem to be holding your own here, though. Is the store…” Reese licked his dry lips, thinking of bottled water. “Is it stocked?”
“Ahyup, near as can be expected, I suppose.” Foster stopped near a median in the parking lot that contained two straggly elm trees. “This is close enough to keep an eye on you, but far enough that the riff-raff shouldn’t notice you.” He took his hat off again. “You folks got any means of protection?”
“I got this,” Ben said, holding up his crutch.
Foster exhaled. “Well, that’s something.”
“Is there any way we could get inside the store? We could use some supplies for the trip home—I’ll pay, of course…”
Foster snorted and looked at Reese. “With what? Look, I’ll give you props for asking and not demanding, like those folks over there,” he said, jerking a thumb over his shoulder. “But money’s worthless, now that the feds are shutting down.”
“What?” asked Jo.
“Yeah,” Foster said to her. “Heard it on the radio from the state troopers—D.C. got smacked pretty hard. They evacuated the surviving congress critters and guess they don’t have enough to get things going again, so the government is officially closed for business for now. Heard talk of someone taking over out in Denver, but…” He shrugged.
“So much for my pension,” Jo muttered.
“Ahyup.”
“How long?” asked Reese.
Foster sighed. “Word is, they’re taking an ‘indefinite recess.’ Military’s still spooled up, but who really knows what’s going on?” He rubbed his face. “Near as I can tell, Maine’s on its own—probably just like the other coastal states.”
“What about west of here? The rest of New England?” asked Reese, dreading the answer.
“I can barely communicate with my officers on the other side of town—I have no idea about the rest of the state, let alone New England. Only way I got any news out of Bangor was when a trooper stopped by to hand deliver a printout—hand deliver!” Foster crammed his hat back into place and adjusted the
