Page 11 of Hurricane Irene

“We were in water knee deep and he hit a piece of metal roofing. Shit sliced through his pant leg and damn near the muscles in his leg. If it weren’t for Cruz we’d be talking about something a lot worse,” said Trevor.

“That’s it,” said Luke shaking his head. “We do not go back out until the water has fully receded. I am not going to risk lives.”

“Luke, I’m okay, brother,” said Jax. Cam stared at the man raising his eyebrows.

“Yeah? Tell my sister that. She’ll have my balls for this one,” said Cam. As if on cue, Ellie turned and ran toward her husband.

“God. What happened? What’s wrong?” she demanded.

“Easy, sis. He cut his leg on a piece of metal roofing. Cruz got it sutured and bandaged.” Cam nodded at his sister, taking her hand and then nodded to Jax.

“Get off of it now!” she yelled.

“Babe, it’s okay,” said Jax reaching for her. She shook her head, tears filling her eyes and he gripped her hand, pulling her against his chest. “I’m okay, baby. It’s a deep cut but you know Cruz. He’s the fucking best. I’m okay it just hurts like fuck. I’ve had a recent tetanus shot. I just need to get cleaned up and I promise, I will rest for the next twenty-four hours.”

“Seventy-two,” growled Cruz. “You’re not going to fuck up my beautiful work. Get off your damn leg and keep the area clean.” Jax smirked, nodding at the other man.

“Yes, sir.”

CHAPTER SIX

As word started to travel and communications returned, the team learned just how lucky they really were. Parts of the greater New Orleans area would never be rebuilt or recovered. The estimate thus far was more than a thousand lives lost. That was the number they knew. The number they didn’t know was the numbers of people in the outer regions of the bayou that didn’t answer census calls or register to vote. Those people might be lost forever.

The silence of the Sugar Lodge was deafening. Soft sounds of sleep, whispers to one another and children watching movies in the far corner were the only sounds heard.

Sara, Tru, Dylan, and Casey were preparing the evening meal. The meals weren’t as extravagant as they typically were but it was delicious, nevertheless. Tonight would be roast beef po’boys, Zapp’s® Cajun potato chips, sliced fruit, and warm apple crisp with ice cream. It was more than most had.

Before anyone at the Sugar Lodge ate, they made sure those at the clinic were fed and had what they needed. With the water receding, they could use the ATVs to get from the Lodge to the Clinic.

“It’s delicious, babe,” said Wilson kissing his wife. She smiled a weak smile at him and nodded.

“It’s good, solid food. More than most have. All of the freezer’s held because of our generator’s, so once we’re cleared to return to the cafeteria, everything will be back to normal.”

“This is normal, honey,” said Tailor. “Wilson’s right. It’s delicious and I’m damn grateful for it.” Eric was walking toward them, an expression they couldn’t read on his face.

“What’s wrong?” asked Sara nervously.

“Nothing wrong. Evie and Chipper just returned with seven more rescues. They’re all doing reasonably well. Dirty, tired, hungry. But okay.”

“What else?” asked his father staring at him. “I know that look. There’s something else.”

“We’ve made the decision to take the boats out tomorrow. We have to start working through the bayou to find people. We’ll mark trees and buildings that are standing with orange tape or paint. We’ll be able to find our way around by those marks.”

The others all nodded. They knew it had to be done and they couldn’t just sit back and do nothing. Pippen walked toward the team and smiled, signing rapidly.

“Slow down,” smirked Tailor. “My eyes and hands aren’t what they used to be.”

“Can we play our instruments?” asked the boy.

“Did you bring them to the Sugar Lodge?” asked Eric. His father laughed, shaking his head.

“Of course they did. We said only bring your valuables. Their instruments are the most valuable things in the world to them,” smirked Tailor. “You can play for an hour. No longer. Folks will want to sleep.”

“We understand. We were going to play music that will help them sleep.” Keith walked up with Alec and Eden. The other children were seated in a corner of the massive room, warming up their instruments.

“They want to play something for all of us,” signed Keith. “They want to thank all of you for keeping them safe again. They’ve selected some incredible pieces that will relax you and help you sleep. They will start with Gymnopédie No. 1. Move to Clair de lune, then Beethoven’s Sonata No. 14. They’ll play Bach’s Goldberg Variations, Chopin’s Nocturnes, and finish, ironically, with Richter’s Sleep. They planned it themselves.”

“Incredible,” smiled Alec at his son and the children around him. The children, once treated as guinea pigs and research subjects, were now thriving in the environment of Belle Fleur.