CHAPTER TWO
The rain was coming down at a steady pace as the men worked to fill the sandbags. The islands had been reinforced with Finley’s inventive engineering creations but that didn’t mean it would hold.
If the storm surged to a category four or five, the water would easily swell over the obstructions and could potentially flood everything in her path.
“We knew a big one would come one day,” said Luke. “And somehow I knew it would be named after grandma.” The others laughed until the distinct voice of Irene was heard.
“I’m glad y’all are gettin’ a good laugh about a major storm,” she frowned.
“We were just joking, Mama Irene,” said Hex.
“This ain’t no joke. We might survive this but all them folks along the bayou, the wetlands, even inward to New Orleans may not survive. Have y’all already forgotten about Katrina?”
“No, ma’am,” they all said in unison.
They heard the slapping steps of someone running and turned to see Stormy and AJ.
“What now?” asked Luke.
“Weather service just reported that she’s changed direction. She’s coming right toward the mouth of the Mississippi and she’s big. Gone from a category three to a four. We have to move.”
“We are moving,” said Luke. Stormy shook her head, staring at him.
“No, Luke. I think we need evacuate the area.”
“It’s too late,” said Ghost. “I-10 is completely at a standstill. We wouldn’t get out of New Orleans. We have to buckle down here.”
“But,” said Gaspar staring at the younger men. “We can suggest to others that they get the hell out of Dodge. At the very least, they can try to move west while they can.”
“Already did that,” said Mike lifting his head from sand pile. “We sent an emergency broadcast to all the residents in our database. If they don’t have a radio, television, or cell phone, it won’t reach them.”
“Well, that covers about a third of the bayou folks,” said Antoine. “We know many of them don’t have phones or televisions. Radios? Yes. But they might not be listening.”
“It’s too late now,” said Nine. “We’re not risking our lives to warn people and get caught out there. We fill the bags, take them where they’re most needed and if folks are home, we’ll warn them again.”
“That’s all I can ask of y’all,” said Irene. “There’s gonna be a mess to clean up after this.” She turned and started to walk toward the northern gardens.
“Mama? Where are you going?” asked Gabriel.
“To pray baby. To pray.”
The storm came at them like a thousand freight trains at once. The sound of it was deafening and terrifying. The teams were huddled in the Sugar Lodge, not enough beds for their expanding population.
The men took the floors in sleeping bags, while the women and children shared the cots.
“I guess this is our next project,” said Ham. “We need to build bunk beds, maybe three beds high. If we do that, we’ll have more than enough for now. Plus the cots, we’d be okay for a few years.”
“I agree,” said Gator. “This is fine for a few days but any longer than that and we’ll all go stir crazy.”
“We could put on a third floor,” said Cowboy.
“No,” said Grant. “More floors equals more possibilities of collapse and damage. Higher in this instance isn’t exactly better. This building is certified for up to two-hundred mile per hour winds. If we expand, we expand out, not up. But even then we’d be screwing with a historical building.”
“That makes sense,” nodded Kev. “I’ve been in a lot of fucking storms. Sand storms, tornadoes, floods, blizzards that’ll freeze your balls off. But this? This is beyond my horrible imagination.”
They stood near the windows just watching as four-hundred-year-old live oaks bent, groaning with a desire to hold on but unsure if they could. They couldn’t see the ground. It was completely covered with water.
The old Sugar Lodge was on twelve-foot pylons, raised when it was built. Now, it held modern amenities and safety features, including generators to keep the lights on and air-conditioning.
Grant had done the impossible and created a raised enclosure for the animals on the island sanctuary. A raised, ten-foot platform allowed the animals who were not used to the wind and water to find safety and security in their own little tree house.
“How much longer?” asked Sadie, cuddling into Ham’s side. He kissed her temple, hugging her tightly.
“At least another few hours,” he said. “We just need to relax and let mother nature be her pissed off self.”
“Don’t you be talkin’ about Mother Nature, Hamish,” said Mama Irene. “That’s a powerful amount of magic and we don’t need her against us.”
The others nodded, not daring to laugh or discount Mama Irene’s statement. Standing at the window Rowe moved closer and closer.
“Rowe, don’t stand too close to the windows. They’re bullet- and shatter-proof but we don’t want to test that,” said Grant.
“No. I know,” he said frowning. “What is that?”
The men moved toward the window and all said the same thing.
“Shit!”
“Fucking idiot!” yelled Cowboy. “That’s Mr. Babineaux and his damn coon dog.”
“We got him,” said Matt, nodding at his brother.
The two men carefully opened the door to the Sugar Lodge, Ham and Cowboy there to ensure it was shut tight. As they reached the fifth step, they were able to pull the rope of one of the many rescue boats that had been tied beneath the lodge.
Safely secured beneath, it contained very little water and one small outboard motor.
“Help me boys!” yelled the old man. The dog was drowning, shivering from the rain and wind.
Matt directed the boat toward the man, holding the handle of the motor steady, fighting wind and current and rain. His arms flexed to an unnatural size as Kev reached for the man’s boat. He tied it successfully to their own and Matt fought his way back toward the steps.
Ham, Gator, and Rush waited to help the old man and his dog out of their boat, while Kev and Matt tied the two boats beneath the lodge.
“Henry, what are you doin’ out there?” asked Irene. He knew Irene and Matthew and knew their secret. He was one of their oldest and most trusted friends.
“My place started takin’ on water. I couldn’t wait any longer.”
“You should have left when we warned you to leave,” said Ham with a stern expression.
“Boy, I’ve been livin’ in these bayous my whole damn life. I know what I’m doin’. That storm out there is nothin’ like I’ve seen before. I passed Tick’s place and it was gone, Irene. Plum gone.”
“Oh, my,” she whispered.
“There’s nothing we can do about it now,” said Ham. “When the storm subsides, we’ll all be going out to check on our neighbors.”
Lucy, Sniff, and Violet took the old hound dog to the bathroom area and ran hot water over him in the shower. When they were done, they dried him off and wrapped a warm blanket around him, giving him food and water.
“Is he okay?” asked the old man.
“He’ll be fine, sir,” said Violet. “He’s just cold and scared.”
“He ain’t the only one. I’m tellin’ y’all, this is nothin’ like I’ve seen before.”
“We can find you another place to live, Mr. Babineaux,” said Gator.
“Don’t want another place to live. I’ll rebuild where I was before.” Jethro stared at the old man and then at the others.
“Forgive me, sir, but you nearly lost your life out there because you built you home on sticks, in a bayou, known for flooding and storms. Why?” Nearly the entire room let out a soft chuckle and Jethro frowned at them. “Did I say something funny?”
“In a way,” said Henry. “Let me ask you somethin’ son. You’re a Marine, right?”
“Yes, sir.”
“You been shot at, right?”
“Yes, sir.”
“When you was shot at the first time, did you say, ‘well that’s enough I’m leavin’? Or did you say, this is where I’m supposed to be?”
Jethro took in a deep breath and rubbed his massive hand over the top of his head. He gave the man a knowing smirk and nodded.
“Fair, Mr. Babineaux. Sorry for asking.”
“Don’t be sorry, son. I hope you find a place one day where you would risk your life over and over for it. For just the right to breathe the air on the property.”
Jethro looked around the room slowly. He spotted Grayson holding Jennifer, then looked toward Iggy laughing with several others. He turned to Ham and Rush, then at Mama Irene and Matthew.
“No need, Mr. Babineaux. I think I found it.”