"But what if they come back while we’re gone?" asked Mitch.
Cami shook her head and stepped between them, on her way to the kitchen. "I don't think so," she said as she walked. "For starters, none of them carried any weapons, and I think they'll likely need to change their pants after seeing that shotgun up close and personal. It'll take a day or two to screw up the courage to come back with guns…I hope," Cami added.
"Well," Mitch said as he entered the kitchen. He rapped the knuckles of one hand on the plywood he and Amber had installed over the windows. "If we’re not here when they show up, it won't be easy for them to get in."
"They have a key to the front door, remember?" Cami said.
"There's gotta be a way we can secure the front door," Amber suggested. "I don't know, maybe wedge a chair or something under the door handle? I know it sounds silly…”
Cami turned from the gear spread out on the table. "No, that's not a bad idea…it might delay them a while if they are forced to deal with some kind of unforeseen obstacle like that. Honestly," Cami said as she shrugged, "it might be better for all of us if we were out in the woods when they try to break in. The last thing I want is to put you two in the crosshairs of a firefight."
Mitch grinned. "Yeah, and if we’re out in the woods when they show up, we’ll have the element of surprise and plenty of concealment."
Cami turned and fixed Mitch with a level gaze. "Now you sound like Marty."
"Hey," Mitch said and threw his hands up. "I'm not the one who answers the door with a shotgun."
After a good laugh, Cami implored the kids to get back to their packing. "I want to get out of here as soon as possible. We can still hike a couple hours before sunset and set up camp. Then we can do some firearms practice tomorrow morning and head home. If we time it just right, we might be able to sneak in under cover of darkness, too.” She shook her head and put her hands on her hips. "Man, this is so weird thinking of trying to conceal our movements like this…I feel like I'm living in an action movie."
"Well," Amber said as she left the room. "You’d better start working on your one-liners," she called over her shoulder. "Every action hero needs to have a catchy phrase right before they off the bad guy."
Cami didn't join in the laughter but looked down at her gear spread out on the table. "If this were a movie, Reese would come home before the big fight and save the day…” She took a deep, shuddering breath, and wiped away the tears that threatened to fill her eyes. "But it's not a movie…and Reese might not be coming home…” She whispered to herself.
On the verge of losing control of her emotions, Cami remembered the hungry look on Harriet's face and the smug attitude on display when she thought she could walk into someone's house and redistribute everything they had. Cami's mouth compressed into a thin line and her hand clenched into a fist.
"You can try…”
Chapter 12
No-man’s-land
Boston, Massachusetts
Reese tripped over a rusted piece of metal and cursed. He staggered through the open wall of what used to a be a stationery boutique and blinked in the darkness.
“This the guy that killed Charlie Mayo?”
Reese turned and squinted into the gloom. “Who’s there?”
A figure emerged, as tall as Reese, but with arms like his legs. “Name’s Decker.” He stuck out a thick, tattooed forearm, then paused when he noticed Reese’s right arm in a sling. Decker shifted hands on the fly and shook Reese’s left hand. “Lieutenant Jeremiah Decker, Boston PD.”
Reese looked around the ruined shop. Water dripped from ceiling tiles in the far corner and brown, pungent stains clung to the walls like the world’s worst wallpaper. “So, this is your secret base? Where the resistance meets?”
Decker looked at Harry, Semmi, and Carla. “The resistance?”
Semmi put his hands up. “His words, LT.”
Decker grinned. “I like it.” He turned and walked deeper into the store. “Follow me.”
After a curious glance over his shoulder at Semmi, Reese shrugged his good shoulder and followed. “Why don’t you just use the police building down the block?”
Decker pushed open a door that squealed on rusted, bent hinges. “We tried that—it failed. They were ready for us.” He looked down. “It was a trap. Only a couple of us got out of that nightmare alive.” When he looked up his eyes flashed in the dim light. “I’m not gonna let that happen again. Ever.”
Reese swallowed. He believed every word Decker said. He followed the police lieutenant deeper into the store and found himself in a back stockroom. Beams of light shone down from the high ceiling where cracks had developed in the walls under the tremendous force of the tsunami a week ago. He noticed cracks and holes everywhere he looked.
“How is this place still standing?” he whispered.
“Ah, she’s wicked tough, this old bird,” Harry said as he slapped a cinderblock wall. Crumbles of cement trickled down where his hand hit the wall and he brushed if off on his pants and cleared his throat. “Come on, this way.”
A large rolling door had been partially opened and left half-raised at the far end of the stockroom. Reese walked up to the loading bay behind Decker and watched as the big man ducked low and disappeared into the void on the other side.
“Isn’t that outside?” he asked. “Why’s it so dark?”
“It was,” said Carla as she stepped around him. “Building across the alley tried to fall and
