by Payne, T. L.
“Why so far away?”
“That’s where the overflow from the one in Dallas and Shreveport went, so they set up a shelter there. That was the day the hurricane came in though. After the lights went out, I don’t know if it’s still operating. Everyone just keeps heading that way.”
As they walked back to the truck, Will filled Monte in on what Kale had told him was happening around Cameron. The man’s face went pale. As he climbed into the vehicle, he lowered his head and shook it. “I gotta try. I have to get to my family and move them out of there.”
Will understood that perfectly. If it had been his family, nothing would have stopped him either.
“Walker, you’re welcome to stay with us,” Will said.
His head pivoted to look at Monte. He paused before speaking. Will knew what he was going to say.
“Nope. I was looking forward to a good ole crab boil, and some of his wife’s famous gumbo Monte was bragging about. I’ll just tag along and make sure he stays out of trouble until we find his family.”
“Why didn’t they evacuate with everyone else?” Cayden asked.
“Cause my daddy won’t leave and let thieves loot the store,” Monte said. “Besides, we all knew it wasn’t going to hit Calcasieu Parish. Daddy was right. It hit somewhere between Galveston and Freeport from the damage I saw.”
“So they should be safe, at least from the storm,” Cayden said.
“They’ll be safe from those damn commie bastards too. They’ll head out to the bayou and stay at our camp.”
“I hope you find them,” Cayden said.
Will placed a hand on his shoulder. “If you run into trouble down there, you head on back up here. My sister won’t mind.”
The men guarding the checkpoint moved the barricades and allowed them through. Kale waved. “It was good seeing you, Will. Tell Savanah I said, hey.”
Will waved. “Will do.”
Walker pulled on through and headed east, eventually turning south just past Starks. The road was rural, two-lanes, lined by trees and occasional rice fields. They were all on edge after learning that the Chinese military might be along the Louisiana coast. Their scouts had gotten the drop on them once. Will wasn’t going to let that happen again.
“They won’t be at Savanah’s,” Cayden said after a long period of silence.
Will wasn’t sure if he was trying to reassure Isabella or himself.
“No. They won’t come up that far,” Will said. However, he wasn’t at all sure.
“If they do, will we all go to Texarkana?”
“Maybe. Or somewhere else safe.”
“At least we’ll be there to protect Aunt Savanah and the kids,” Cayden said.
“It will be good to all be together. I know you’ve missed them.”
Cayden just nodded.
As the miles passed, Will’s thoughts turned to food. He could practically smell bacon cooking. He was dreaming of fresh farm eggs sprinkled with herbs from his sister’s garden. And boudin. Something that had once been a staple of his diet. His sister had shied away from traditional Cajun dishes in her move to more organic, healthy fare, but he thought he might be able to persuade her to make a few of their favorites for Isabella.
Walker stopped the truck at the T-intersection just outside the city limits of Vincent, Louisiana. Will had traveled these roads thousands of times over his life and knew it like the back of his hand, but now it looked somehow foreign. Maybe it was the silence. He listened hard for the familiar sounds. No tractors. That was what was different. Farmers should be harvesting this time of year. He wondered how they would bring in the sugar cane, sorghum, and rice without tractors and all the other equipment. He thought about all those rice fields. That would be a vital food source now. Unfortunately, most of it likely had been harvested in the summer and shipped to places like China. What remained of the late-planted rice would be needed to feed the farmers and their families.
The Cormiers’ tractor sat deserted in their field. Will leaned out the window to see if he could spot anyone outside. He wanted to know how the town had fared so far and if they’d seen his sister, but he saw no one. Even Mr. Cormier’s old Bassett hound was missing from their front porch.
“Maybe they went to stay with their son in town,” Cayden said.
“You’re probably right,” Will said. It wouldn’t have been very safe for the elderly couple out there by themselves, especially with their house so close to the road. There’d be no warning before someone was upon them. Will wasn’t sure how much better the town would be, but at least they’d have their son to watch out for them.
As they drove past the Cormiers’ neighbor’s place, Will noticed their gate was open. They usually kept it locked. On closer inspection, it appeared that someone had broken the lock, and the gate was off its hinges and resting on the ground leaned up against the post. That wasn’t a good sign. Will stopped and inspected the scene. Red shotgun shell casings littered the driveway. It looked like there’d been a fierce battle there.
“Let’s go,” Will said, pounding on the back of Walker’s seat to get him to speed up. He wanted no part of whatever trouble was down that driveway.
A quarter of a mile down the road, Will caught sight of his third-grade teacher’s barn through the trees, or what remained of the structure. He sucked in a deep breath, fearing what he might see when they reached it. He couldn’t believe his eyes as they approached the driveway. Everything was gone. Everything. The house, most of the barn, the sheds. Everything had been burned down. An open suitcase was on the ground in the middle of the front yard. Clothes were strewn all around it. Even from that distance, he could see the blood on them. He lifted his rifle.
“Dad?”
“Don’t look, Cayden,” Will said, even though he couldn’t take his eyes off the scene. “Keep going, Walker.”
“Will, what is it?” Isabella asked.
“Nothing. The house burned,” Will said, trying not to alarm them.
As the truck continued down the road, Will scanned the front of the house through the rifle’s scope. He tried to convince himself that it wasn’t blood, but there was just too much of it to be anything else. Maybe it was animal blood.
The pickup stopped again at the Vincent city limits welcome sign. It felt odd returning to his hometown like this. It had been a few years since he’d been back but still, he hadn’t expected it to look so different. The tire shop on the corner of Fontenot Drive was boarded up, as was the cell phone store across the street. Had they been preparing for Hurricane Epsilon too?
“We’re going through town, Dad?” Cayden asked.
Will hesitated. That route was shorter, but he’d never been a fan of the chief of police and wanted to avoid any possible issues with the man. Mayor Thibodeaux might have issued some order confiscating vehicles or even weapons. He wasn’t about to give up either. The alternative to driving through downtown Vincent would add a mile more to the trip. Was it worth the risk? The ache in Will’s ribs and the hunger gnawing at his belly said it was.
“Just keep your eyes out for Barney,” Will said.
“Barney?” Cayden asked.
He was too young to remember the nickname. Everyone called Chief Benoit Barney Fife because he looked just like him.
“Chief Benoit,” Will said.
“Barney’s from the Andy Griffith show, right? I love that show,” Monte said. “My grandad had the series on DVD.”
Will smiled. “So did my grandmother.”
“Are you anticipating trouble with the police?” Isabella asked.
“No. Not really.”
Isabella shook her head. “Why am I’m not convinced?”
“We just don’t get along well, so I’m hoping not to run into the man.”
Isabella tilted her head to the side and lowered her chin. The corners of her mouth curled up. “Were you an outlaw when you lived here, Will?”
“Not exactly.”
“My mom used to tell stories about al
l the trouble Dad would get into.”
Isabella pointed at Will and wagged her finger. “Aw, I knew it. You were the town rebel.”
Will waved his hand dismissively. “Let’s just try to keep a low profile, okay?”
As they rode east through town, Will began to think maybe they’d evacuated the city. It was deserted, eerily quiet, and he hadn’t seen a soul out on the streets.
“Where is everyone?” Cayden asked.
Will shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“Maybe they all ran out of food and left,” Isabella said.
As they approached the grocery store, Will spotted movement near one of the cars in the parking lot. He leaned forward and pointed. “Watch there.” The person exited the vehicle and looked in their direction. Will watched the man’s hands as he raised his pistol.
“Cayden! Isabella!” Will shouted as the first round slammed into the truck.
As Walker threw the truck into reverse and sped backward, Will pushed Isabella’s head down and grabbed Cayden by his shirt. “Get down!” he yelled.
The truck’s engine whined as Walker accelerated backward. Will heard what sounded like an explosion, and then he was thrown back in his seat, his head hitting the rear glass.
Twenty-Five
Savanah
Day Eight
Savanah stood across the street from the exclusive Sugar Hill community’s main gate and waved a piece of white cloth over her head. Blake was hidden behind a row of bushes that lined the road, his rifle trained on the guard on the other side.
“What do you want?” the guard called out.
“I need to talk to Valson. It’s about his brother, Jason.”
An extended period of silence followed. She narrowed her eyes and tried to see beyond the gate but couldn’t. Were they getting Valson or deciding whether to shoot her?
“What about Jason?” the guard asked.
“I need to talk to his brother. Now!” Savanah said, trying to be as forceful as she could. Jason’s family understood strength and preyed on weakness. She would not show them fear.
A moment later, the gate opened, and Valson stood next to two of his henchmen. He was dressed in a tank top and swim trunks as if he’d just come from the pool. “What do you want, Savanah?”
“Jason’s missing.” She waited for a response, not wanting to divulge that Pete and Rod were too—not yet.
“Missing? Maybe he got tired of playing house with you and found a new ho.” The two clowns with him laughed and smacked each other on the backs.
Savanah turned as if she were leaving and then called back over her shoulder. “Fine, if you don’t care if he’s lying out there injured somewhere, then I’ll go into town and see if your dad will help me find him.”
“Aw, Savanah, you know I was just teasing you. How long’s he been gone?”
She stopped and turned. “Twenty-four hours now. He was going to talk to one of the neighbors and hasn’t returned.”
“Did you check there? Maybe he got to drinking and forgot his way home?” one of the goons asked.
She scowled. “I checked. They’re missing too. Pete Ashby left with Jason and didn’t return. Rob left with some dude in a polo shirt, and he hasn’t returned either. Something bad is going on, and I was hoping that maybe your crew might have heard or seen something while they were out last night.”
Valson stepped into the street. When his henchmen tried to follow, he motioned for them to hang back. Savanah matched him step for step as she moved toward him, a tight knot forming in the center of her chest as they converged in the middle of the road.
“Seriously, Savanah, what was he up to? He wasn’t going to make some dumb move on the old man, was he?”
Savanah stiffened. She’d never considered that. Why would he? Valson and Sugar Hill had been their immediate problem. She could see him appealing to his father to call Valson in and stop his reign of terror, but not Jason challenging his father for control of Vincent. No, that wasn’t it.
“No way. Are you sure your guys didn’t do something to him?” Savanah glanced over Valson’s shoulder.
Valson followed her gaze. “Those clowns.” He laughed. “They can’t wipe their asses without me telling them to. They wouldn’t mess with my brother without my permission.”
Savanah lifted an eyebrow. “What about Pete and Rob?”
“They’re fair game, but my crew would have told me if they’d been into it with anyone out here.”
“You’re sure?” Savanah asked, a growing concern spreading in her gut. She’d somewhat hoped Valson was holding them somewhere and that she could negotiate for their release, but she was starting to believe that he didn’t know anything about their disappearances.
Valson gestured. “Stinky, get over here.”
“Yeah, boss?”
“Did you see my brother or anyone from Sugar Cove when you guys were out last night?”
“Jason? No. We were east of the city. Why?”
“He’s late coming home.”
“Did you see anyone you didn’t recognize?” Savanah asked. “Maybe some outsiders coming through the area?’
“My crew didn’t but Buddy claims he saw little Chinamen slinking around the school out by the interstate. We blew him off because he was stoned and not making any sense.”
Valson dismissed him with a wave. “I’ll ride into town and check with the old man. Maybe some of his crew saw Jason and the other two.”
It was too foreign—standing there having a semi-civilized conversation with a brutal killer about the wellbeing of his brother. Could she trust him? No. But she was now confident that he wasn’t holding Jason, Rob, and Pete, and that was what she’d come to find out.
“If you find him, please tell him that the children and I are worried about him,” Savanah said.
“I will. Don’t worry. He’s just fine. He’s a tough son-of-a-bitch.”
Savanah nodded and turned to go. He was right. Jason was tough, so was Pete, but they were both missing. Not knowing where they were or what had become of them was unbearable. And now, she was no closer to knowing than she was when she started.
“You believe him?” Blake asked as they walked toward Savanah’s farm.
“I do. He has no reason to lie about his brother or the others. He’d brag if he’d done something. He’d be full of bravado and inflammatory words for the rest of us. That’s just who he is.”
“What about the theory that Jason and the others went into Vincent?”
“I don’t buy that—unless something came up that we don’t know about. Jason doesn’t trust his family. He wouldn’t go to his dad for help—with anything. Buzz Blanchard beat his kids into submission. He’s pure evil. Jason would expect nothing else from him than that.”
“So we’re back to square one. We still have no leads on where they might have gone.”
“The only lead is the guy in the polo shirt and the fact that Pete’s family took off looking for them. What that means, I have no idea.”
“Well, do we know who wears polos around here?”
“Just those guys from Sugar Hill,” Savanah said, gesturing back over her shoulder.
She paused and then stopped in the middle of the road. She looked skyward and then at Blake.
“Pete’s uncle owns a used car lot a mile south of town. Maybe he was the one in the UTV with Rob.”
When they reached the farm, Savanah stopped and leaned against the gate. “What do you think? Should we go check out that lead?”
Blake turned his gaze to the ground. “I know you’re concerned about your friend, but we really should stay put and prepare in case something is coming.”
Her head said he was right, but her heart wanted to find Jason—and she wanted answers.
Savanah placed her foot on the gate and threw her leg over. “Okay. I guess we don’t have any choice.”
“I’m going to take the long way home, do a perimeter check of the neighborhood. Get some rest, Savanah. I’ll
be back later on today, and we can regroup and come up with a plan.”
Savanah waved goodbye and headed up the driveway.
“Where have you been?!” Savanah yelled as she ran toward the entrance to the barn.
Jason smiled, making her anger boil.
“I’m sorry. It wasn’t like I could pick up the phone and call,” Jason said, approaching her with his arms open wide.
“I was so scared,” she said, slapping him on the chest.
Jason pulled her in close and wrapped his muscular arms around her. “I’m sorry. Really, I am.”
She melted—all the anger fading away. Once the tears started, she couldn’t stop them.
“It’s all right. Everything’s going to be all right,” Jason whispered, stroking her hair.
She was a little girl again, with her grandfather comforting her after she’d fallen off her horse. She wanted to believe Jason just like she’d believed her granddad, but things were not right in the world, and she had a feeling they never would be again.
“What happened?” she asked, this time without the angry tone.
Jason released his grip on her and stepped back. The somber look on his face made her heart jump into her throat.
“Outsiders,” Jason said. “They’re camped five miles from here along the Spring Gully. They are heavily armed and well supplied.”
“Outsiders? Like from Lake Charles or Cameron?”
“Like I have to no idea where they’re from. They were some type of military or maybe military contractors.”
“Military? That’s a good thing, right? Maybe they’re getting ready to get services restored.” Savanah was hopeful for the first time in over a week. She looked into his eyes. He did not share her optimism. “What, Jason?”
“I don’t think they’re with our military.”
Savanah’s knees buckled, and Jason reached out to steady her. He led her through the barn door and grabbed a crate, lowering her gently down onto it before continuing.
