Cami looked at Marty, who shrugged. “Well, I don’t know Jimmy all that well, but—“
“He plays the worst practical jokes on me…all the time—in public. It’s horrible, but I’ve come to accept that’s who he is…a teenager in a man’s body.” She tossed her head and flung the short curly hair from her eyes. “But that…woman…went way over the line.” She glanced around them as others headed home. “Look at everyone,” she hissed. “They stop talking when they get near me…it’s like I’m a leper now or something. Ooooh, look at poor Mia, she doesn’t have enough money—or a man to take care of her…”
“I said it before, didn’t I?” asked Marty. “Harriet Spalding is trouble with a capital ’T’, ain’t no two ways about it.”
Cami put an arm around Mia’s shoulders. “Look, forget about her—forget about this meeting. If you ever need anything, you come to me. Got it? Don’t go to anyone else, don’t tell anyone else, just come straight to me.”
“I can’t accept handouts now, Cami…everyone knows…” she choked back a sob, then took a deep breath. “I just can’t,” Mia said, her voice thick with emotion. “I just want to crawl under a rock and die…”
“Oh, I won’t just give you stuff, you’ll have to work for it,” Cami replied with a smile. “Trust me, we’ve got lots of chores that need doing around the house, from pulling weeds in the garden to helping me secure things in the yard and inside…I’m happy to share what I’ve got with someone who’s willing to earn it.” She frowned at the knot of Harriet supporters who argued with more independent-minded homeowners near the abandoned deck. “I trust this HOA like I trust the IRS.”
“Not at all,” Marty added for emphasis. He waggled a trembling hand toward Harriet’s house, lit from within by candles in every window. “Now that we’re finished with this nonsense, how’s your defensive work coming along?”
Cami sighed. “I’ve pulled all the hurricane plywood out of the shed and got it staged at each window, but I don’t know about installing them all.”
“You got them outside, or in?”
Cami looked at Marty. “Well, outside—why would I bring them in?”
“Oh, we have storm shutters, too!” Mia said, excited. “But I thought they went on the outside? Jimmy usually handles all that…”
“They do,” Cami answered as she watched Marty for an explanation.
The old man nodded as they shuffled down Harriet’s driveway, among the last of the attendees to do so, as everyone else moved faster. “You got to bring ‘em inside because if someone’s up to no good and they hit that plywood hard enough on the outside to break the glass, then y’all got a mess inside, am I right?” He shook his head. “No ma’am, y’all need to put that plywood up inside, and if the glass breaks, let it. Ain’t no worry to you and yours inside.”
Mia thought it over. “But all those screws will destroy my window frames!”
Marty stopped and looked at her. “With all this goin’ on,” he said, and waved a hand at the darkened neighborhood, “your husband’s missing and millions of people dead, you gonna really stand there and tell me you’re worried about your window frames? Besides—everyone puts ‘em up on the outside. The crooks might show up with drills and just pull the screws out if you got ‘em all lined up outside. Can’t get at the screws in your window frames from the outside, now can they?”
“I don’t know if I can do that,” Mia said. “Those plywood sheets are heavy…”
“I’ll send Mitch over to help you out,” Cami replied.
“Y’all better worry about your food first. I bet we got a couple days afore things get bad enough to need hurricane shutters, but that HOA is gonna come sniffin’ around looking for extra supplies tomorrow. Mark my words.”
Mia scoffed. “Well that’s easy for me—everyone knows I don’t have anything now…”
“You need to set up some caches,” he said to Cami.
“Caches?” she asked as they reached the street. The three of them paused for Marty to explain.
“Yep. Get you some PVC pipe or any kind of plastic box or bin…put your stuff in it, and seal it real good, then go bury it in your back yard. Do it tonight, so nobody can see where you bury it.”
“Won’t they just see where I dug up the grass in the morning?” asked Cami.
“Yep. So dig a few decoy holes. Make up a story about gophers or something. In a few days, won’t be any clues left if we get another good rain.” He touched an arthritic finger to the side of his nose. “Works on guns, food, money…anything you don’t want people like Harriet Spalding gettin’ their hands on.”
“Well, thank you for an educational evening,” Mia said. She glanced down the street at the group of people that walked back across the bridge to the other side of the neighborhood. “I don’t want to be out by myself, so I’m going to hurry and catch up to them. Good night, guys.”
“‘Night, Mia. Remember what I said, okay?” Cami called. “Any time, night or day.”
“Thanks, Cami. It was nice meeting you, Marty.”
“Mmmhmph,” he replied.
“Looks like I’ve got a busy evening ahead of me,” Cami said with a sigh.
“Welcome to the brave new world, missy.”
Chapter 8
Boston, Massachusetts
Reese yawned in the passenger seat and stretched his back as best he could. "We may as well pull over here, it doesn't look like the road opens up anymore."
Jo let the car roll to a stop and shifted into park. "I don't understand why there’s so many cars piled up out here…you'd think we’re far enough away from the coast to avoid the damage."
Reese shook his head. "According to Ben's phone, we're barely
