Storm Tide Rising: Blackout Volume 2 (2 page)

When Eric and Chris were against the wall with Henderson, Joe turned to Chris and said, "You and Eric set up here with a good view of the crowd. Henderson, you swing wide right down the street and work your way across to the other side. I'll go left, and we'll meet behind the Pharmacy. It's the third shop from the southeast end of the street. Got it?"

The three nodded, and Chris turned to whisper softly to Eric. Joe patted his son on the shoulder as Henderson took off into the weeds and underbrush, headed for the far end of the strip of shops. Eric smiled slightly, but his eyes were wide and his breath was coming in rapid, shallow gulps. Still, his hands were steady, and when he held his rifle, it didn't shake even a little.

Joe took a deep breath and said a prayer. For a moment, his fingers lingered on the leather thong round his neck and the bottle caps strung there. Four of the caps were new enough to have sharp corners that rubbed painfully at his skin. It would be years before the necklace was even marginally comfortable to wear again. Joe rose slightly from his kneeling position and ran without looking back. He looped far to his left and swung behind an old and collapsed wooden tobacco barn. From there, he crossed the road and dropped into the deep drainage ditch on the other side. He could see the tops of the shops two hundred yards ahead of him, but he couldn't see the crowd.

Joe crept more slowly to his left until a row of young pine trees cut off the view of town. There were only a couple dozen trees in the stand where an old farm house had once stood, but Joe used every one of them he could for cover as he moved. The back side of the stand ran next to the cemetery for one of the oldest churches in town. Joe dropped to a low crouch and shuffled on all fours between the rows of headstones. It was slow going and tough, and as he leaned against the last stone, his triceps were burning and his legs throbbed. But he was behind the row of shops and out of view of the crowd.

Joe made his way cautiously to the back of the pharmacy and found Henderson waiting against the wall. The young Marine started to say something, but Joe held up a hand and shook his head, sucking in wind as quietly as he could. After a moment, he pointed to the back door, but Henderson shook his head. It was a long shot, but worth checking just in case.

"Okay," Joe barely whispered, pointing at Henderson's shotgun, "we're going to go out front together. As soon as we come around the corner, you let off a round into the air with the shotgun. Immediately after, I'll pop two with my Beretta, and everyone will go from looking at you, to looking at me. That's when I'll grab whoever's standing in front of them and put a gun to his head. Hopefully that will grab their attention enough that no one thinks to start shooting."

"You call that a plan?"  Henderson whispered back.

Joe smirked and shrugged his shoulders slightly. "A plan's only good until the first bullets are fired. But this will work."

"What makes you think they won't just shoot us?" Henderson asked softly as he edged his way to the corner of the narrow alleyway separating the pharmacy and the South Eastern Savings and Loan.

"These guys aren't serious," Joe replied. "Remember the man with the beard? He was serious. These people out here are pissed off and they’re scared, but they're not really serious yet. We have to convince them that we are and they should back down."

Henderson didn't make a reply, and Joe was thankful for it. The Marine hugged the pharmacy wall until he was halfway through the alleyway. Joe tapped him on the shoulder, and the two stopped and knelt. Joe gave a countdown then tapped Henderson on the shoulder again, and they made their move. Henderson exploded suddenly from the alleyway; his shotgun raised, and he pulled the trigger.

Joe stayed close to the Marine's back and as soon as the shotgun round went off, he broke to the left. The entire mob in front of the store recoiled collectively at the boom from Henderson's gun. Joe spotted the leader standing ten feet in front of the crowd, his eyes wide. Joe raised his Beretta and fired three quick rounds into the air, and the crowd shuddered again. The man started fumbling at his waist and managed to pull a small revolver as Joe closed the distance between them.

Joe hacked down at the inside of the man's wrist with the back side of the Beretta's metal slide as he brought the revolver up, and the pistol went flying to the left. He struck the man in the throat with the butt of the pistol grip and then in the right shoulder. He hit the man with his left hand hard enough to turn him around in a half circle. Joe slipped his left arm around the man's neck, hooking him in a headlock facing the crowd. With the ringleader's body between him and the crowd, Joe leveled his Beretta and scanned the shocked faces in front of him. Henderson kept his position a few feet to the right, giving the crowd two threats to keep an eye on instead of one.

"Okay," Joe said calmly, "who's in charge here?"

A moment of stunned silence slipped by, and then the man in Joe's grip stammered, "Y-y-you are."

Ch.2

Unsafe for Travel

Mike slowly eased the door open and checked the street for any movement. After a long moment, he decided it was clear and stepped out with his rifle at the ready. The would-be cat burglar from the night before was gone, though he'd left a dark brown stain on the door frame. For a couple of nights, at least, that might serve as a warning to others. Eventually, though, someone would kick in the door and try to take whatever was left inside.

Alyssa was close behind him. She paused for a moment at the threshold, took a deep breath, and closed the door. After a brief hesitation, she locked the deadbolt and the handle. Mike started to ask why she'd bothered, but she shot him a mean look, so he closed his mouth with the words unsaid. Alyssa stepped down off the porch and kept walking; she never looked back once.

"You said my sister, Maria is okay?"  Alyssa asked over her shoulder.

Mike stifled a sigh. "When I left her early yesterday morning, she was," he replied as he had every time she'd asked the question. "I imagine she'll still be fine."

"There have been things happening around here," Alyssa said softly as they walked down the empty street. "A notice was left in all the mail boxes about violent gangs and criminals in the area. Said it was best to stay in our homes because the police weren't coming any time soon."

Alyssa mumbled something else under her breath, then turned and looked Mike in the eye. "Everything was fine until that notice came out. It was like they were advertising it to the worst people. Suddenly, doors were being kicked in every night. You could hear the screams some times. On the second day, a Federal Security Services unit came through and arrested six people they said were involved in it, but then the FSS left."

"Same thing happened in the southern part of the city," Mike said. He kept a sharp eye on the shadows between houses and the thin wood line behind them. It was a manicured kind of forest within the neighborhood, but the shadows it cast were just as dark as a natural forest's would have been.

"Did you have the Relief Camps?"  Alyssa asked.

Mike froze as he felt a tingle run over his arms. "Relief Camps?" Mike said. "Run by FEMA?"

Alyssa shook her head. "We had a local National Guard post. They set up the camp, and FSS came in and provided security. Guaranteed safe, or so they said. A lot of the neighborhood went for it. Drew said we shouldn't, though. He said we should stay put as long as we could."

Mike had to swallow past a sudden bitter taste in the back of his mouth. "You made the right choice," he said after a moment. "I've seen those kinds of camps before, and one way or another, it always ends up badly for those who stay."

Silence fell between them again, as it often had the night before. Mike followed Alyssa down the street as she turned right at the stop sign without hesitating. He watched the houses they passed with cautious, wary eyes, but he saw no movement. A few dogs barked faintly in the distance, but other than those quiet natural sounds, the neighborhood was unnaturally silent, and that silence sent shivers up his spine. Mike kept his finger near the safety on his M-4, just in case.

As the pair walked, Mike turned to check their back trail from time to time. He couldn't quite place his finger on why, but he had the feeling a pair of eyes was constantly settled right between his shoulder blades. It didn't seem to matter which way he turned, the feeling was impossible to shake. Alyssa felt the pervading tension as well. She jumped at every stray rustle of wind, and her eyes darted to both sides of the broad blacktopped road. Eventually, she slowed her pace, and as Mike passed her, she said, "Take two lefts at the next stop signs," Alyssa said. "That will take us out to the main road."

Mike nodded and chose not to make an issue out of taking the lead in unfamiliar territory. Alyssa's eyes were wide, her face pale. She was clearly frightened, and Mike couldn't blame her. He followed her directions and made two consecutive left turns. The road widened at the last intersection, and there was a single white line painted down the middle of it. Bradford pear trees lined both sides of the lane, thick green canopies casting deep shadows in the late August afternoon. The neighborhood was beautiful, and in another circumstance, Mike would have enjoyed the walk.

As it was, his gut was twisted in knots and his shirt was soaked through with sweat. Combat training had been his least favorite part of the US Coast Guard's basic training course, and he'd been thankful when it was over. He had put on the uniform specifically to save people, not to fight them. Now, even recognizing the need, he still felt as uneasy as he had on the first day of tactical training.

Suddenly, Alyssa was at Mike's side, pulling on his shirt sleeve insistently. "Something isn't right," she said, pointing toward the trees along the road. There were thin strands of concertina wire strung in broad loops between the trunks of the Bradford pears. If it hadn't been for the angle of the sunlight, he would have missed them altogether. Mike slowed a little, and as they rounded a curve in the road, they came face to face with a group of four men.

"Stop right there," a voice called. "Let me see your hands, slowly, sir."

Mike and Alyssa froze. Mike slowly released his rifle and let it hang in front of him. He kept his hands clear of his body and the rifle, but close enough to reach it if he needed to. Alyssa stopped beside him, her eyes wide, and her trembling hand gripped Mike's sleeve tightly. Two of the four men had pistols in their hands, though they weren't raised. The other two both carried accessorized M-4 rifles. One man with a rifle stepped smoothly in front of the others, his broad grin showing teeth much whiter than they should have been.

"Afternoon, folks," the man said. "I'm the Operations Team Leader for this district. My name's Parker. How are you tonight?"

Mike frowned at the man's extended hand but didn't shake it. Instead, he nodded toward the two Bradley fighting vehicles parked at the entrance gate to the neighborhood and the group of what looked like soldiers stretching more concertina wire across the broad street. "Are you all Federal Security Service?"

Parker shook his head. "No, we're with another unit. Private contractors under orders from FEMA, but we work in concert with FSS. One big happy family."

The man flashed his toothy grin again, and Mike decided he didn't like it.

"Where's my husband?"  Alyssa demanded suddenly. "His name is Drew. Drew McCarthy. He left three nights ago to get water, and he never came home."

By the end of her outburst, Alyssa's whole body was trembling as she fought back tears. Parker frowned as he tapped the side of his tinted glasses, his eyes flickering back and forth. Finally, he nodded and focused again on Alyssa. "That make you the wife of Drew McCarthy, then?" Parker asked. "Alyssa McCarthy? 4228 Wandering Pine Lane?"

Alyssa could only manage to nod, as her lower lip trembled with growing fear. The strength she'd mustered all night suddenly began to evaporate.

"Everything is fine, ma'am," Parker said. "We'll be by later with an announcement for each home, so you'll want to be there to receive yours. Drew wouldn't want you to miss a letter from him."

Unable to stop herself, Alyssa made a sound of pure anguish that rose from deep in her throat, and tears finally began trickling down her cheeks. She opened her mouth to say something, but Mike suddenly took her in his arms and held her as if to comfort her pain. "Don't speak," Mike whispered. "I think he knows more than he's saying."

"Who are you?"  Parker asked as Mike let go of Alyssa. "Do you live in this neighborhood, sir?"

"I'm a friend of the family," Mike replied, careful to keep his hands in plain sight again. "Drew asked me to keep an eye on Alyssa while he was out looking for water. We got worried when he never came back, that's all. Is he okay? Do you know where he is?"

"You'll have to take Ms. McCarthy back home, sir," Parker said, his voice suddenly very firm and official. "This area has been deemed unsafe for travel. The number of accidents and attacks has been up due to the absence of police authority."

Mike nodded. "I understand. I'll take Alyssa back home, and we'll wait for the announcement there, okay?"

The man tapped the side of his glasses again and nodded. "Do you know how to get her home? Two right turns and a left, okay?"

The hair on the back of Mike's neck stood on end. Neither he nor Alyssa had mentioned how to get back to the house, but Parker had nailed it turn by turn. Mike looked again at the glasses Parker was wearing, and wondered if they were smart glasses. He nodded and carefully began backing away with Alyssa frowning at his side. "Yes, sir, I remember."

Mike turned to go, but the man cleared his throat loudly. "And sir, make sure you leave the rifle at home next time. If you carry something like that around, you might get mistaken for a criminal up to no good." Parker paused for a long moment of tense silence. "And you wouldn't want that to happen."