All he needed to do was find a boat.
If they could find one still seaworthy, he could sail it and get them out of the insanity that had swallowed Boston. With a boat, their chances of making it to South Carolina improved exponentially. They could rest and let it take them home with more comfort than a car.
Reese frowned. They just had to find one.
Chapter 17
Lavelle Homestead
Northwest of Charleston, South Carolina
Cami frowned as she led Mitch and Amber back toward the house. They’d been on the trail home for almost two-and-a-half hours and approached the edge of the forest preserve, which bordered the northwest corner of Bee’s Landing. Amber and Mitch had tromped through the woods behind her the entire time and had generated enough noise she was sure someone in North Carolina could have heard them.
She added ‘teach the kids bushcraft’ to her list of things to do. If things continued to spiral down the drain like they had over the past week, at some point they might find themselves forced to hunt game for food. Long before then, she realized with a sudden jolt, most people—woefully unprepared for the end of the world save for weapons—would be forced to do the same. It was only a matter of time.
Cami swore to herself as they approached the tree line. She hadn't considered the fact that people less prepared than herself would not only be on the brink of starvation in a matter of weeks—or even days—but that they might turn to the very woods she planned to harvest from in order to secure their own food. That number of people concentrated in the few square miles surrounding Bee’s Landing alone would strip the forest bare of any deer and small game in days. The animals would either move further inland to avoid the hordes of Elmer Fudds, or they would remain in place and be decimated.
Cami was so lost in that line of thought she almost stumbled out of the trees into her own backyard without noticing the man in her backyard. Her breath caught in her throat and she froze, which caused Amber to run into her and curse.
Cami ignored the foul language and hushed her daughter with an iron grip on one arm. She dropped to a knee behind her favorite mulberry bush, which forced Amber to follow suit. Mitch stood where he was, and blinked, then dropped to the ground in a rustle of leaves.
"What is it?" hissed Amber. "What's wrong?"
"There's someone in our yard," Cami replied. Mitch, just out of earshot of their whispers, raised his eyebrows in question. Cami stared at him, pointed at her eyes, then mimed with her fingers a person on two legs. She then pointed at her backyard and waited until the message struck home, and Mitch nodded. His eyes grew wide, and he shrugged.
What do we do?
Cami turned back and watched the stranger as he prowled the backyard and peered in every window, frustrated by the plywood mounted on the inside. Cami smiled. "You're not going to see inside…” she whispered. The lanky, bearded man looked like he’d been living in a dumpster for the past two weeks. There was no telling what he might do if he got in. He looked desperate.
"I don't know who that is—I don't think he lives here,” Amber whispered, her voice tight. “You think it's one of those guys that Mia was talking about?”
Cami frowned. If he was, she planned to put a stop to the harassment. She shrugged out of her pack and instructed Amber and Mitch to follow her lead. When everyone had removed their gear, she drew her pistol, and nodded when Amber followed suit. The kids had proven to be much better shots with the pistol than she'd expected, based on Mitch's performance with the rifle, and Amber's with the shotgun. They weren't expert marksmen by any stretch of the imagination, but what skills they had would definitely serve them in the apocalypse. Cami just had to make sure they stayed alive long enough to get better.
Removal of the threat in her backyard was step one.
Cami thought for a moment and analyzed the layout of her yard. She relied on the fact that she knew every square inch of the property like the back of her hand, whereas the stranger tripped and stumbled over every rock and root as he worked his way around the house.
You’re on my turf now.
"He's over on the far side. I think he's going to check out the side of the house and see if there's a way in over there—I don't think he's been here long,” Cami said. “Soon as he disappears around the corner, Mitch, you head for the shed. Stay around the backside and don't let him see you. Use the shotgun. Amber," Cami said as she turned to her daughter. "You use the rifle. Go around that way.” Cami pointed toward the tree line that separated their yard from Marty's. "If you can, see if you can get Marty's attention. If I know him, he's probably already sighted in on this guy and wondering where we are. Get yourself in the trees and use his house as cover if you have to. You're still almost too close to use that rifle, but I'll feel better knowing you're out there."
"What are you going to do?" Mitch whispered. He crept close but stayed concealed behind the bush.
"I'm going to move along the garden fence. All the leaves will keep me covered until I reach the front corner," she said as she pointed with her pistol toward the garden. "If he comes back around into the backyard in the next five minutes, we’ll have him in a three-way crossfire that shouldn't expose any of us to friendly fire.
