The rest of the day was spent in preparation for escaping into the swamp, making repairs to the windows, and packing for their trek into town. It turned out that the marauders had initially driven toward the homestead, but after driving far enough up the levee road to not be seen from the highway, they had parked the vintage car and hiked the rest of the way to the house. Reuben had found the keys on one of the bodies. Probably once a thing of beauty that had been somebody’s prize possession, the battered wreck that he drove up to the house was almost a sorrowful sight.

It did, however, contain a jerry can of gasoline besides what was still in its tank. Other “treasures” included ammunition for both the rifles and the semi-automatic pistol he lifted from one of the bodies; a couple of bottles of vodka and a bottle of bourbon; a couple of packs of cigarettes including a few joints tucked inside; and a fist-full of firecracker packets.

Unfortunately Henry was still nowhere to be found.

After the evening chores, when Alexia and Reuben were packed for their trip and most of what would be needed for flight into the swamp was prepared, the three of them sat at the table to eat a simple meal of salad dressed with goat cheese.

“We’d planned on something nicer,” she admitted after they finished saying grace. “I was even going to try baking a cake on the grill. I’m sorry your birthday turned out like this.”

He looked thoughtful for a couple of seconds before replying. “At least now we might be able to hold off something worse from happening.”

“Well,” Mѐre responded, “we didn’t wait until the last minute on your present. Alexia and I agreed on something we thought you would like, and she did the wrapping.”

Alexia pulled out the box which was small enough to fit into her pocket. It was wrapped in solid purple paper, and she set it beside his plate.

His smile was subtle as he picked up the package. “You really didn’t have to do this.”

“We know how practical you are.” She smirked. “But since you already have the practicalities, we found you something with a little more sentimental value to it, as well.”

“I’m already glad to see it’s small enough to pack with me,” he murmured as he ripped off the paper.

“We kept that in mind.” Mѐre looked at his face instead of the present. “Although if you should change yours and decide to stay, you shouldn’t have any trouble finding a place to keep it here.”

Reuben’s glance toward her mother belied appreciation for more than the gift. He opened the box and withdrew a green, wooden, hand-carved fishing lure. He held it up, and his grin made Alexia grateful that he managed to get some kind of enjoyment on his birthday.

“Well, isn’t that the cutest little minnow I’ve ever seen.” He turned the lure to examine it at all angles. “Thank you, you two. I hope I never use it because it’d be a shame to mess such a pretty thing up.”

“It’s supposed to have been made locally around seventy-five years ago, by some private individual who just carved them as a hobby,” Alexia informed him.

“A little piece of the best of Louisiana.” He nodded. “Thank you again.”

When they retired for the evening, she was able to return to her own bed, but sleep did not come easily. Although she was going with him because of her knowledge of the town, neither of them really knew what they were going to find. And what if something did happen to cause another outburst?

When they got ready in the morning, Reuben packed his slingshot and she was given the confiscated pistol to carry. The rifles stayed with Mѐre, including his .223, because they needed their weaponry to remain hidden. The satchels each carried contained food and some medical supplies, and also included some of the contraband from the car. Reuben thought it might prove useful for bargaining or bribery.

With great care and observation, they hiked back out the driveway and the two-lane road that led into town. Before reaching Esperanza, they cut across the fields again and slipped into town through the backside of the main neighborhood. She hoped to make contact with someone along the edge of town before they traversed too deeply into possible trouble.

The sight of the community was heartbreaking. In only three weeks it had descended from rows of buildings presenting a homey, comfortable living space to a squalid and desolate environment. The quiet that permeated the place was eerie. They passed three homes that were burned to the ground. Almost all the others were marred with broken windows or smashed-open doors. And from the stench she could have sworn a sewer pipe must have been broken in multiple places.

Hardly anybody was out and about, and the ones that were seemed to be almost as furtive as the two of them. The first house she had hoped to find someone they could make contact with was vacant. Besides the windows being broken out, the inside was trashed as though people had ransacked anything of practical value.

Their luck was better at the second home they tried. Alexia softly rapped on the door, and the middle-aged man who answered was surprised to see her.

“What on earth are you doing here?” He asked as she stepped inside and motioned for her companion to follow.

“Seeing if there’s some way we can help,” she replied. “Frank, I’d like you to meet my friend, Reuben.”

Frank definitely looked more haggard since the last time she’d seen him. His wire-rimmed glasses were perched crookedly on his nose, and his baggy jeans and tan tee shirt didn’t always fit so loosely. His expression was slightly thoughtful as he shook the young man’s hand.

“Hello.” He spoke the word slowly.

A middle-aged woman gingerly stepped out from behind the doorway, a nine-iron gripped in her hands. Frank quickly introduced her to Reuben as his wife Carlene, and an elderly woman immediately followed her.

“And this is my mom,” Frank said.

“Louise!” Reuben’s response surprised Alexia. “It’s good to see you.”

“I can say the same for both of you,” the matron smiled. “I hope Liana is continuing to recover?”

Alexia nodded as he stated, “As well as can be expected.”

“You two know each other?” Frank asked.

“We met at the church six days after the sunburst,” Reuben replied.

“Don’t you remember?” Louise glanced toward her son. “He’s the young man I told you about who was looking for help for Liana.”

“Oh, that’s where I heard the name before.”

Carlene set the club against a nearby chair. “Sorry to come out with that.”

“Perfectly understandable.” There was a twist to Reuben’s grin. “Although I like to envision Louise with a baseball bat.”

“These invaders never really leave you alone, and they use all kinds of tricks to try to catch you off guard.”

Knowing that Louise normally lived on her own on the other side of town, Alexia presumed the woman was here for her own safety. And it was a relief to begin finding members of the congregation.

“It’s because of them that we’re here.” She replied. “Have you managed to stay in contact with other members of the church since the invasion?”

“For obvious reasons we don’t get out much,” Carlene responded. “But Father Nick made it here once to check on us. According to him there’s no predicting what shape anybody is in, and unfortunately he mentioned a few who had been killed, including the deacon.”

Her relief at hearing the priest was still active was almost obliterated by her dismay over the news about Bernard. “Oh, no. Do you know what happened?”

Frank grimaced. “All he was doing was helping an old man those fiends had beaten up. The poor soul couldn’t even get back up, and he was trying to give him some first aid. One of those animals shot him in the back.”

“It’s inconceivable how much cruelty they’re capable of.” Louise shook her head. “They single out the most defenseless, usually the youngest and the oldest, and use them either to make examples of or terrorize everybody else into submission.”

“What they’re doing with the kids is abject cruelty,” Carlene growled.

She felt a tremor at the pit of her stomach. “Doing what? To what kids?”

Frank looked grim. “They’ve rounded up around a dozen of the youngest ones – preschoolers, kindergarteners at most – and holding them hostage in the old DuBois house.”

She glanced at Reuben, and the scowl on his face reminded her of his expression when he first walked in on Carlo’s proposition to her. It immediately made sense why the ruffians chose the historic landmark as a base of operation. The building was around a couple of centuries old, and its electrical outfitting was limited to what was needed to accommodate the visiting tourists. It would be the structure most suited to life “off the grid.”

Frank concluded, “They’ve threatened to start killing kids if anybody tries to resist them.”

“And they’ve already killed people who tried to negotiate for the children’s safety or check on their well-being,” Carlene added. “Father Nick has been doing his part trying to help organize some way to overpower them that doesn’t threaten the children, but thanks to City Hall we just don’t have the resources.”

Reuben’s scowl had grown even grimmer. “Where is Father Nick?”

“Never in the same place twice,” Louise replied. “If those devils caught whiff of who he is and what he’s doing, they’d make him into one of their examples. He slips around town finding ways to help people.”

“But what if one of us good guys wants to find him?” He looked directly at her.

“You have to ask the right people,” she replied.

“And who knows who they are?”

“I can get you started,” Frank responded. “Although we might have to follow some bread crumbs to get there.”

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