Father Nick was in the home of a high school history teacher who was content to be introduced simply as Gerald. He reminded Alexia a little of Frank in the sense he was also middle-aged and wore glasses – which had been mended with duct tape – and presented a haggard appearance. He had taken his niece and her two “tween-age” daughters under his roof, but Alexia couldn’t determine if he’d ever had a wife.

She didn’t know this man. He wasn’t a member of the parish, and because she was home schooled had never met him before. His charges made one brief appearance when she entered the house with Reuben and Frank, but then seemed to hide away. She learned later they were keeping guard.

Gerald had a room he used as an office at the back of the house. While he sat, turned away from his desk to face them, Father Nick and the other three sat in various chairs brought in and circled tightly around the room.

The priest was dressed like a layman. He wore blue jeans and a mostly blue, short-sleeved, button-down shirt. As he listened to Reuben’s rendition of the events at her home yesterday, he exhibited the same intrigue and insight she was beginning to associate with him. His visage was not so haggard, but there was a few days’ growth of stubble on his jaw.

“Your timeline worries me,” he commented after everybody had been updated. “It’s true they’ve scoured through all the buildings in town and taken every scrap of a resource they can find. But lately they’ve been focused on storing up on gasoline. If they planned on hitting the homes south of town, especially Liana’s, in another day or two, they would have to come back through Esperanza to move on to the next town.”

“It’s when they come back through they’ll do their worst,” Gerald grumbled as though talking to himself instead of them.

Frank glanced at him. “I presume you’re referring to the children.”

But it was Father Nick who replied. “We’ve no reason to believe they’d actually release the kids when they move on. Their MO is total brutality. Even though they’re holding the children hostage to keep the citizens under control, we’ve been searching for a way to rescue those poor souls.”

“It must be swift and complete,” Gerald still seemed to be in conversation with himself. “Otherwise they’ll slaughter the whole assembly.”

Reuben kept his attention on the priest. “I understand these gangs move together but still act independently of each other.”

“There seems to be around five or six ringleaders, but their lack of cohesion is part of our problem. They’re scattered throughout the town. We outnumber them, but they outgun us. We can’t hit them in twenty different spots, and at the first sign of trouble their guards will begin shooting children.”

Alexia drew in a sharp breath.

“I would suppose these ringleaders keep caches of weapons?” Reuben asked.

Father Nick nodded. “They keep all the surplus supplies – ammo, medicine, food, gas – and dole it out to their own members as they see fit. And one of them is holed up in the DuBois House with the children. Only three days ago we got together large enough a band of the right people to overcome the guards if we could distract them from their duty. But the fire we set to a nearby house didn’t produce the results we hoped for.”

“You thought enough of them would clear out of the house to check on a fire they didn’t start? That you’d be able to jump who was left inside holding the kids hostage?”

“We’ve been keeping constant surveillance on the place. Nobody goes in or comes out without our knowing about it. But there’s one favorable condition we haven’t been able to take advantage of.” The priest shook his head. “Even though the DuBois House has always advertised it has a secret passage that was used for running all kinds of contraband, none of these gang members have found it. Apparently none of them ever toured the place before the outage or even tried to find it after they got here.”

There was a surreal quality to his information. Yes, Esperanza was a small town and the DuBois House was far from famous, but she would have thought enough people from the surrounding cities would have actually seen the home and learned about the location of the passage that these gangsters would be aware of it. Or a local could have revealed it to them. Then again, touring a historic home probably never made it on most ruffians’ to-do list, and exploration wasn’t on their repertory of revelries.

Reuben looked thoughtful. “You’re right, we need a way to draw the thugs out of the house that doesn’t endanger the children. And I presume by the right people to go in, you’re referring to … assassins … that can dispatch the guards swiftly and quietly?”

“We have a couple of war veterans. Gerald here served our country in the Gulf War.”

Alexia stared at the school teacher. Father Nick surely knew something about the man she didn’t, but this unassuming host who seemed barely involved with their discussion didn’t come across as anybody who could take down another person. In fact, she’d guess he was in the throes of battling post-traumatic stress.

The priest continued. “We also have some counselor types who can assist with traumatized kids.”

Gerald muttered again. “It’s all for naught if we don’t eradicate our enemy.”

“He’s absolutely right.” Reuben nodded. “We need a way to round up these bottom-feeders and set up a perimeter they can’t slip through.”

“You’re thinking just like the rest of us.” Father Nick smirked slightly and barely shook his head. “We also have a few volunteer snipers. But without a distraction that won’t endanger the children, and until we get the firepower we’ll need, we’re looking at losing far too many innocent people. We estimate we’ve already lost twenty-five percent of the town’s population since the sunburst nearly four weeks ago.”

Alexia murmured, “Like Deacon Bernard.”

The priest’s countenance immediately saddened. “We certainly could have used Bernard. Now his widow and one college-age daughter still at home have been helping in any way they can, but I miss his inspiration.”

Reuben suddenly frowned, but thoughtfully. “You said they’ve been stocking up on the gasoline lately. How are they doing that since the pumps aren’t working?”

“Somehow they’ve got a key to unlock the covers to the underground tanks. They lower down capped-off pipes like buckets to haul the gas to the surface. It’s quite a bit of work, which is why they’re slipshod in getting it done.”

“Obviously they’re focusing a little more on that job so they’ll have enough fuel to move on.” He studied the priest. “Gasoline is pretty high in their priorities. I’m sure Esperanza would be willing to sacrifice a gas station in order to save lives.”

The man who told them how to thicken the fuel for Molotov cocktails regarded him with perplexity. “What do you have in mind?”

“A distraction so explosive everybody will come running. That will give us the chance to rescue the kids, pass out weapons and ammo, and descend upon the horde.”

“What do you have that won’t get you blown up in the process as well?”

“Well, what I have still puts me at risk, but it’s one I’ll have to take.”

Her attention shot to Reuben. “Why you? I mean – isn’t there somebody better qualified that could do it more safely?”

“Probably.” A rueful smirk curved his lips. “But we don’t have time to find that person. Don’t worry, I’m not gonna go blindly rushing in.”

Father Nick, who had been studying the young man during that exchange, spoke measuredly. “As much as I hate to accept your offer, circumstances have forced us all into choices we’d rather not make.”

“Which brings up another matter.” Reuben’s attention remained on her. “Now that we’ve found our resistance fighters, ideally you should go home before the fireworks start.”

The tremor deep inside her had to be the result of opposing forces. By no means did she want to be in the middle of a battle, but she couldn’t turn her back on those poor children. And besides, there were too many other people she didn’t want to just leave in the fray. His reference to fireworks confirmed how dangerous his plan was.

“You heard what Mѐre said.” Somehow she kept the shakiness from her voice. “She told you to bring me back. So you can’t just send me off.”

Reuben studied her for a couple of seconds before responding. “We’ll try to find a safe place to put you.”

“Those children will need to go somewhere safe. Put me there.”

His attention shot to Father Nick, who looked at her and replied, “The plan is to take out the guards and stay with the kids until the fighting ends or evacuation becomes necessary. It will be very dangerous. But we do have need of more people who can tend to the wounded in a secure area. Do you feel up to that?”

“I’ll go where ever I can help.”

Reuben’s gaze remained on the priest. “She can handle it.”

“Then let’s start making plans so we can strike this evening.” Father Nick looked to their host. “Luckily we’re with our main commander, so once we get the strategy devised we can begin sending out the word.”

Alexia, Reuben, and Frank all shot glances toward Gerald that didn’t conceal their concern upon hearing this news. He suddenly sat up and broke into a furtive grin, his eyes gleaming as he returned all their gazes.

“I find I get my best ideas from shutting up and listening to everybody else talk first. So stop looking so surprised.”

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