Jo fired again, and the kid screamed. He dropped the shotgun and half ran, half limped back to the car. "She shot me!” he screamed. Two others emerged from behind the car and grabbed their leader and dragged him into the bushes on the far side of the road.
"Now's our chance!" Reese called to Jo. He slipped around his tree and rushed across the road. His backpack made an awful racket as it slammed against his back, but he made it to the car and fired three more shots from his pistol into the surrounding forest. He ripped off the backpack and tossed it in the front seat as Jo did the same in the backseat. “Get in,” he ordered as she fired another shot over the roof of the car.
"Hadn't planned on a carjacking today," Jo observed as she slammed the back door.
Reese shifted into drive and floored it. "I hadn't planned on shooting at a bunch of teenagers, either," he retorted.
"That boy’s daddy ain’t gonna be too happy when he finds out we shot him and stole his car,” Jo said from the back seat as she looked out the rear window.
"We can worry about that later—I plan to be in Boston by the time anybody from Liberty decides to come after us.”
“Preach it brother,” Jo replied. She peered out the window. "Looks like they're headed back to town."
Reese took a curve too fast, and the tires chirped on asphalt until he got the car back under control and took a deep breath. “Okay…okay…we made it…”
“Easy there, chief,” Jo soothed. “Hey, how much gas do we have in this here jalopy?”
“Well…about half a tank,” Reese replied. He glanced at the rearview mirror and met her eyes. Think that’ll get us to Boston?"
Chapter 7
Lavelle Homestead
Northwest of Charleston, South Carolina
Cami, Amber, and Mitch had just sat down to a dinner of steamed zucchini, pasta, and reconstituted meatballs and sauce when someone knocked on the front door. She sighed, put her fork down and looked at the ceiling.
“Even during the apocalypse, people know just when to interrupt things,” she muttered.
“I’ll get it,” Amber said as she put her napkin on the table.
“No, I got it. You two eat.” Cami stood and slipped her pistol behind her waistband at the small of her back. “Be right back.” Cami froze. That was the secret catch phrase she and Reese always said to each other when they left on trips or went to work. It never sounded as final as “goodbye.” She swallowed and left the kitchen, grateful the kids hadn’t noticed her misstep.
A quick look through the peephole made Cami sigh again. Harriet Spalding stood on her porch, and leaned up to the peephole, presenting an enormous eye. “Hello?” she called sweetly from the porch.
Cami opened the door, and fake smiled. “Hi, Harriet, how are you?”
“Oh, no time for small talk, Cami,” Harriet said as she peered over Cami’s shoulder to get a look inside the darkened house. “I’m just doing my part and rounding up folks for the meeting. It’s at my place—we’re starting soon, so come on over.” She looked past Cami again when Amber laughed at something Mitch said. “No need to bring anyone, we’re only asking that heads of households show up.”
“Rounding up folks?” Cami asked and ignored the directive for the head of the household. “I saw several people heading to your place this afternoon—is this an HOA meeting or a cattle drive?”
Harriet blinked at her, then smiled. “Oh, Cami, bless your heart—you’re just too funny,” she said. She waved and turned away. “I had some friends stop by early to help set up. Be a dear and fetch that grouch next door, would you? He doesn’t like me, and I don’t want to deal with him on such a lovely evening. Toodles!” Harriet sashayed down the driveway and turned on the street to walk past Marty Price’s place.
“What was that about?” asked Amber when Cami returned to the kitchen.
“Oh, Harriet’s gathering everyone for an HOA meeting. As if any of that stuff matters right now.” She looked at the steaming food on her plate. “You two have a nice dinner. I’m sure this won’t take that long. I need to go get Marty.”
“Well, we can go with—” Amber said as she stood.
“No,” Cami replied, gesturing for her to stay put. “It’s only for heads of households.”
“Sounds important,” Mitch muttered around a mouthful of pasta.
Cami sighed. “I’m sure it’s critically important. I’ll see you two later. Make sure you—”
“Got it,” Amber said as she patted the holstered pistol on the table. “I’m not going anywhere without this. Even in the house.”
“Me too,” said Mitch, ready to shove another forkful of pasta into his mouth.
She smiled, happy that her daughter wouldn’t be caught unprepared again, and sad that things had devolved so quickly that Amber needed to be armed in the first place. With such dark thoughts in her head, she left her house and walked across the side yard as the sun approached the horizon and shadows stretched across the grass.
Marty, as she’d expected, proved less than enthused about the prospect of going to a meeting at Harriet’s place for any reason, let alone an HOA gathering. He ranted and raved for a few moments, then calmed down, fed Kirk, and gathered a walking cane she hadn’t seen before.
“That’s a nice cane, Marty,” she said conversationally as they slowly made their way down his driveway.
He shuffled along for a moment before answering. “I only use it on special occasions.”
