“Everyone’s been called to the precinct,” Harry said as he stood. “It’s all hands on deck, you know? Lieutenant’s definitely gonna want to meet you.”
“It’s them versus everyone,” Carla added. “And if you’re not with them, you’re with us.”
“Who’s us?” Reese persisted.
“Everyone else,” Semmi said simply.
Harry put his hand on Carla’s shoulder. “We’ve all lost someone to the waves or the Scavengers, and if we don’t stop them soon, they’ll swallow up what’s left of Boston. We could use the help of a resourceful man—a survivor—like you. We were on our way to join up with the Lieutenant after spreading the signal to attack.”
Reese grunted as he accepted Harry’s hand to get up. “What do you plan on doing?”
Semmi picked up Reese’s knife, looked at it for a moment, then handed it over. “We’re gonna kill ‘em all, while we still have a fighting chance.”
Chapter 11
Lavelle Homestead
Northwest of Charleston, South Carolina
Cami heard a knock at the front door and looked up from her backpack and gear, spread out on the kitchen table. Amber ducked her head into the kitchen and raised an eyebrow.
"I got it,” Cami said as she stood. She waved Amber off. “You guys keep packing. Have Mitch help you go over your gear—we’re gonna move fast, so pack light,” Cami said as she headed out of the kitchen toward the front door.
The insistent knock came again before Cami even reached the door. "Okay, okay, hold your horses," she muttered. Before she opened the door, she took a second to make sure Reese's marine shotgun—the one he bought as his point defense weapon for the sailboat—was within easy reach. Satisfied, she opened the door and found Harriet Spalding and two men from the HOA board behind her.
"Oh, hello," Harriet said, as if disappointed Cami were home. "I didn't expect you to answer the door…”
Cami shrugged and offered a smile. "Why not? Where else would I be right now?”
Harriet smiled, and the four of them stared at each other for a long moment. "Well…” Harriet said uncomfortably. When Cami didn’t reply. She scoffed. “Aren't you going to invite us in?"
Cami smiled. "No.” She leaned against the doorframe to reinforce the idea that entry was not allowed. “What can I do for you, Harriet?"
"I see," Harriet said as she looked over the top of her designer sunglasses. She cleared her throat and removed a piece of paper from her purse—Cami blinked. The woman actually carried a purse.
Harriet adjusted her sunglasses, unfolded the paper and read in a ceremonious voice: "The Board of Directors of the Bee’s Landing Homeowner’s Association has issued an investigative order, effective immediately."
“A what?” asked Cami.
Harriet looked away from the paper and down her nose at Cami. "We’re going around to all the houses in the neighborhood to ascertain what supplies people have, so we can determine who needs the most help and take appropriate action.”
Cami lost her smile. "We're fine here. We don't need any help."
Harriet arched a sculpted eyebrow. "Really? How exactly do you define, fine?" She pulled the pencil out of her purse and licked the tip. "We'll have to come inside and do a count, of course, but…”
“No, you won't."
Harriet paused, then looked over her shoulder at the men from the board. She turned back to face Cami when they grimaced. “I see. And why exactly are you refusing to let us do our jobs?"
Cami shifted off the doorframe and planted her feet square in the open door. She crossed her arms and frowned. "Well, first off, it's not your job," she said and purposely let irritation fill her voice. "You're the homeowners association, not the local government. You have no authority to demand entry into my home. I'm sorry, but the answer is no." Cami stepped back and prepared to shut the door. "Good luck, and have a nice day," she said.
The man to Harriet's left stepped forward quickly and put a hand on the door to hold it open. "I'm afraid it's not that easy, Mrs. Lavelle. These are unsettled times we find ourselves in, and we don't have the luxury of falling back on the old way of doing things. For all intents and purposes, the local government is gone. No one’s seen a police officer or been able to contact anyone in any position of authority for almost a week.”
Cami stared at the man's hand on her door, then slowly looked back. She turned her iron gaze on him and waited until he cleared his throat and removed his hand from the door. "That is not my problem," she said, her voice low and even.
"Then what is your problem?" demanded the older, portly man who still stood a little behind Harriet. "You've resisted every suggestion we've made, you’ve voiced your disapproval at the meeting, and we’re hearing rumors that you’re telling people to take care of themselves and prepare for an extended disruption in our regular lives. Care to explain that?"
Cami smiled sweetly. "It's called common sense." The smile vanished and she moved to shut the door again. “Something that’s evidently not too common around here.”
"Cami, let's not be hasty about this," Harriet said quickly.
Cami sighed, half her body behind the door. "Harriet, I'm not going to let you in my house so you can pick through all my stuff and decide what needs to be taken from me and given to other people. I've already donated to a few people—I don't need to be told what to give away.” Cami realized the words were a mistake as soon as she spoke them.
"So, you have enough that you've already given food away to people in need? Then you shouldn't have any problem with the homeowners association determining who exactly is in the greatest need and making sure that
