Cami shook her head. "You’re full of surprises, Marty Price.” Before the old man could reply, she embraced him in a hug.
"Looks like you folks are knee-deep in a gang war," the sheriff said. He whistled. “Good grief, what were you shooting?" he asked as he stepped over to the headless corpse. The yard all around the body had been painted in blood and gore.
Marty grinned and hooked a thumb at his house. "Got my M82A1 in there.” He pulled a massive .50 caliber round from his pocket and handed it over to the sheriff with fingers that trembled. "Them babies put a hurtin’ on just about anything."
The sheriff whistled again and loosened the chinstrap on his tactical helmet. "Well, now I know who to call for backup," he said. He handed the round back and grinned.
“You’re not gonna ask me if I got a permit for this here toy?” asked Marty.
The Sheriff wiped sweat from his face. “Ha! Even if the legislature was foolish enough to try something like that, I’d never enforce it.” He looked at Marty with a lopsided grin. “I might ask if I can borrow it sometime, though.”
Marty grunted as if McIntyre had passed a test. “I knew I voted for the right man.”
Cami watched from the side yard as Mia and the kids joined Amber, Mitch, and Gary on the back deck. Everyone hugged. Amber disappeared into the house and came out again with bottles of water.
The sheriff adjusted his helmet. “If you’ll excuse me, folks, my men are coming back now. We need to secure the area and haul away these bodies. I don't want anybody outside for the next hour or so.”
She nodded. “Of course.”
Can you all go inside for a bit or has your house been damaged?” he asked Cami.
“We took some damage to the lower floors,” she replied and cast a critical eye at her bullet riddled house. “But mostly just broken windows. It should be okay. If you or your men need a drink of water, just holler,” she added.
“Much obliged,” replied the sheriff as he touched his fingers to the edge of his helmet in salute. "I’ll come let you know once we’ve secured the neighborhood. There's no telling how many more of those guys are out there. When it’s all said and done, I’ll be needing statements from you all, of course.”
"Gladly," said Cami as she glanced around, sure another attacker would jump out from behind a tree any second. "Come on, Marty, let's get you inside and get you something to drink."
As they shuffled together across the yard, Marty patted her hand. "You're a good woman, missy."
"Thanks…I think. You’re a good neighbor," she said with a chuckle. “And full of surprises.”
"This is only the beginning, you know," Marty said ominously. "If this here Apple Dumplin’ gang has gotten bold enough to full-on attack both our houses like this…there's no telling what stupidity they’re going to get to next." He looked up at Cami as they walked. Kirk ran around them and barked. "If I hadn't got word to the sheriff…”
Cami nodded and wiped the grime from her face with her free hand. "I know. I don't think we would've made it. If that idiot had been able to make the Molotov cocktails work on my house like they did yours…” Cami shivered.
"But they didn't," Marty reminded her. "What I'm trying to say is we got a long road ahead of us."
"We'll have to rebuild and repair both houses…” Cami mused as they approached her back deck. "But we’ll get through it together."
Mitch raised a bottle of water in salute, and the survivors of the Battle of Bee’s Landing cheered.
Chapter 23
Northwest of Charleston, South Carolina
Darien rubbed the knuckles of his left hand. He’d busted them against the road when he’d hauled Jon Boy back to the car to escape the disaster at the Lavelle woman’s place. He ground his teeth at the thought. Half his crew unaccounted for…including the two new guys they’d brought in when they’d raided the first house. He had no idea how many of his men had been killed or just ran off into the woods.
They were just as likely to run to the next town and try to set themselves up as the new kingpin. He looked over at Harriet, who sat in the front seat next to him. At least she’d stopped her incessant whimpering. She hadn’t even taken part in the fight but had watched from the safety of her house.
He reached out and touched her hair as gently as possible. She flinched, then looked at him and forced a smile. Her makeup had run with her tears and she looked like a demonic circus clown, but the smile was genuine. She had faith in him, despite the horrific setback they’d suffered earlier.
Darien sighed and put both hands on the steering wheel. They’d driven for hours, until Jon Boy, wounded and hysterical, had finally passed out. It was like they had a 300-pound baby that refused to sleep unless in a moving car. Darien glanced in the review mirror. Jon Boy’s bulk shifted as he spread out across the entire back seat, let loose a terrible machine gun fart, then resumed his loud snores.
“Oh, my word,” Harriet said as she waved a hand in front of her face. “Open the windows!”
Darien hit the button on his door and the front windows rolled down. Cicadas buzzed loud, right outside the car. He’d pulled them off the road into a service area—from the looks of it, no one had been down the little driveway in years. Once they’d gone ten feet from the road, the little gold Camry all but vanished.
They sat there a few moments and listened to the insects cry to each
