Prepared as we will ever be, James and Jeanna leave their bikes in the back courtyard, and we all head for the cemetery to meet Luna’s uncle, no big brother in the mix to back me… us… up.
Chapter Twenty-Six
We’ve got this. Good over evil any day.
The air is still, the earth quiet even though the fog from this morning has dissipated. We arrive early and position ourselves along the outer cemetery wall, near the corner. Take a seat with our backs against the brick and our butts on the cold cement. There we wait.
“I am so going to be busted when my mom finds out I ditched P.E. today,” Jeanna says, dropping her head back against the wall.
“This day is going to be like no other.” James twists one of the flashlights in his hand, turning the light on and off and on and off. “You’ll be glad you didn’t wimp out. Who wants to go through their life filling their moments with could haves and what ifs.”
“Fair point,” Jeanna replies.
I half-smile at their exchange, and I stare into the street beyond, not really seeing it, or the people. I grab Luna’s hand and hold tight. Like me, she isn’t talking, but staring into the void laid out before us. Her legs fidget, bouncing on the pads of her feet.
“If I die today, trying to save my dad,” Luna whispers. “At least I die in the company of people I care about.”
“No one is going to die today.” I squeeze her hand with all my might.
“I’m definitely not dying today,” James adds.
“Die?” Jeanna’s voice squeaks. “What’s all this talk about dying? We’re four witches with magickal kits, magickal bloodlines…” she thrusts a point in my direction. “And mini Maglite.”
“You’re right.” I lean forward to see past Luna to Jeanna. “We are totally geared up for success.”
A disorganized response of the word “totally” bubbles around me, the accord of my friends and coven members that tonight, although scary, will be a divine success.
A dark SUV pulls to a stop along the curb, and the passenger window rolls down. Luna jumps up and peers into the cab. “Uncle Andy?”
“I see you’ve brought a few friends with you this evening,” he says.
“Power in numbers.” I jump to a stand.
“Right you are,” he says. “All pile in, then.”
Luna climbs into the front seat, and the rest of us huddle into the back. Uncle Andy takes the car to the highway, and we head toward Baton Rouge and beyond. There is little talk
We drive until the sun slips below the horizon and sky tints to grey, then black. Among the trees and endless sugarcane fields, Luna’s uncle pulls the car to a stop, off the side of the road.
He kills the engine and turns to face the rest of us sitting in the car. “From here, we go on foot. I’ll be leading you in through the back to a farm owned and operated by Chuks. I don’t know what we’ll find there…” His attention swings to Luna. “But it’s my understanding that this is where your father is being kept.”
“Then what are we waiting for?” Luna presses the handle and opens the door just enough to trigger the interior dome light.
“Not so quick.” Luna’s uncle drops his hand on hers and motions for her to tug the door shut. She does. Then stares at him, clear expectation shimmering in her gaze. “Keep quiet and stay out of sight. Got it?” We all nod.
“We’re going to locate Luna’s dad, grab him, and get out before anyone takes notice of us,” I say.
“But if we are noticed,” Jeanna adds.
“We’ve come prepared,” Jeanna and James say in unison. James holds up a small flashlight and magickal on-the-go kit.
“Okay, good. But let’s avoid the need for any defensive magick.” He opens the car door and gets out. Closes it quietly. We all slip out of the car with as little sound as possible and dash into the tall grass at the car’s side, keeping our heads low. We move into and past the tree line, where the land opens into a vast sugarcane field.
The plants are taller than any of us standing on our tippy toes. Tall, thin beige stocks shot from the ground and blossom above our heads into spread blades of green. We are dwarfs in the sugar forest. James puts his trusty flashlight to use, lighting the way, and we maneuver through the field, following the sound of voices and whistles.
It sounds like a roundup of some sort or an end-of-the-work-day ringing of the bell.
A musty, sweet smell accompanies our press through the sugarcane. It’s the scent of brown sugar. The rustle of brush marks our passage between the plants and our progress slows to avoid a heavy crush and crinkle signaling our location.
The tall sugarcane gives way to a crop of younger, shorter harvest, and Andy throws out his arm in a stop signal, halting our forward motion. James and Jeanna switch off their flashlights and scrunch lower to the ground.
From between the tall crops, we scan the nearby open area. Four men direct workers from the field, moving them into a lineup. I’m reminded of elementary school and lining up for class after the end-of-recess bell. Only, there are no children, and it doesn’t appear any fun was being had.
The men and women lining up move with zero energy or personality. They move like zombies… like Luna’s dad had moved. The men in charge blow whistles and swing clubs to signal directions. None of the workers talk. They merely follow orders.
One of the men leads the first group of workers away from the fields, walking them toward a compound visible in the distance. The remaining men continue to get the attention and line up zombie workers still actively harvesting the sugarcane.
“Over there.” Luna points in the opposite
