Mayo snarled a curse and raised his pistol, fired two shots, then fled. Reese scrambled behind the nearest car on his side of the street. More gunshots erupted from around the corner of the building that he and Semmi had hid behind. The skinhead screamed and went down, his hand over his stomach.
Only the short gang banger in the red bandanna remained in the fight, as Mayo continued his mad dash for the barricade.
"It's just you and me, puta!” The short one screamed. He thumped his chest, spread his arms wide and charged across the street, as he shouted a stream of Spanish. A single gunshot cracked from Semmi’s direction, and the gang banger’s head snapped back before his body tumbled to the ground like a rag doll.
Reese turned from the grisly scene and threw up. When a hand clamped down on his shoulder, his knife flashed out and sparked against the side of Semmi’s AR-15.
"Whoa!" he blurted. "I'm on your side!”
Reese closed his eyes and dropped the knife from his shaky, hand. He leaned against the cool metal of the car and wiped bile from his face with the back of his hand. "Sorry! Sorry…”
"We cool. Get your knife, it’s showtime.”
Reese groaned. “You keep saying that. I don’t remember buying a ticket…”
“You got a lifetime rewards card when you slit Charlie Mayo’s throat,” Semmi replied evenly, his rifle up and aimed at the entrance door. “Follow me.”
“If there’s any more talking to do, you get to take the lead,” Reese retorted.
“I’m gonna let my rifle do the talking from here on out,” Semmi growled.
Chapter 15
Haslet Forest Preserve
Northwest of Charleston, South Carolina
Cami stretched as she climbed out of the two-man pup tent she’d shared with Amber. Cool morning air, heavy with the scent of dew on grass, filled her lungs, and she smiled. There were no cars, no nervous neighbors, no obnoxious dog barking across the neighborhood, no nothing. Just the sounds of the forest as it woke from a short summer’s night. Squirrels chattered in the trees, Chipmunks skittered through the leaves on the ground, robins and other songbirds chirped and warbled to greet the morning. For the first time since the tsunami hit, Cami was at peace. If Reese had been there…things might have been perfect.
Cami shook off the morose thought and refused to give in to melancholy so early on such a beautiful day. She adjusted the pistol on her hip, took one quick look around the campsite to make sure everything remained undisturbed, then moved to stoke the fire and put on the coffee before she found a tree behind which to empty her bladder.
A few minutes later, the smell of fresh-brewed coffee caused Mitch to stir from his tent. Cami smiled at the telltale sound of zippers on tent flaps, then turned to see Mitch emerge from his one-man tent, as Amber climbed from the tent she’d shared with her mother.
They walked over to the fire like zombies, sat down on the log next to each other and groaned when Cami handed over two enameled mugs of steaming hot coffee.
"Hope you like it black," Cami replied. “You look like you pulled an all-nighter, Amber.”
“You snore,” Amber muttered as she squinted at Cami. She inhaled deeply over the rim of her mug and smiled. “But this makes up for it. The last of dad’s stash?”
“This stuff is so good,” Mitch said after a sip, “it doesn't need any cream or sugar.”
“Good, because we didn’t bring any,” Cami replied as she sat back on her log.
Mitch raised his mug in salute. “To Reese.”
Cami swallowed, then raised hers in reply. “To Reese.”
"To dad," Amber added. They clinked mugs and enjoyed their coffee in relative silence.
After the caffeine began to work its magic, Mitch put the frying pan he’d brought in his pack over the fire and stirred water and pancake mix in a little plastic bottle. Before long, all three enjoyed campfire griddle cakes and a second cup of coffee. When the meal was over, Cami stood and poured the last of the coffee into their mugs while Mitch cleaned up with assistance from Amber.
"So, what's on the agenda?" asked Mitch while he scrubbed the pan.
"After we clean up, we’re going to kill the fire, then pack up the tents. Remember that clearing we came across last night, a little ways back that way," Cami said, as she pointed through the woods along their trail.
"Oh yeah—it was next to that pond. Hey, I was thinking," Amber said, as she held up a charred stick. "That pond wasn't always there. I used to run through these woods all the time, and I don't ever remember there being a pond back in here…”
Mitch looked up from the pan and watched Cami.
"You're right,” Cami agreed. “That's because it wasn't there. It's a beaver pond, guys. We may have to pay them a visit during the winter if game gets scarce.”
Once camp had been struck, and the tents stowed, they hauled their gear and weapons back to the clearing and took up positions. A week after the tsunami, Cami had already grown accustomed to the lack of people in the neighborhood, either in cars or on foot. They hadn’t seen, nor heard, a single soul since leaving Bee’s Landing.
Cami picked a broken tree stump on the far side of the clearing as their target, then settled the kids down to wait. For a few long minutes they listened to the birds and animals in the meadow. Eventually, Cami was satisfied they were truly alone. Only then did she allow Amber and Mitch to break out the long guns she'd removed from the gun safe in her closet.
"Okay, Amber—I want you to focus through
