Footfalls echoed through the empty street, bouncing between abandoned buildings and fading into the warm, muggy air. Marcus glanced at Jax, noting his six-foot-plus frame, muscled upper body, and confident stride.

“Are you a local?” Marcus asked.

“For now.”

Silence stretched.

“Here on vacation?”

“Nah. Vacations are for rich people.”

Marcus frowned. “How did you meet my daughter?”

Jax shrugged. “On the bus from the beach. Some lady was harassing her, and I helped her out.”

“Oh. Well, thanks for that.”

“No problem.”

They plodded on for several quiet minutes.

“So,” Marcus prodded, “she told you she wanted to look for me?”

“Yeah. Like I said, Sofia kinda freaked out on me.”

Marcus observed him as they walked and noticed angry scratch marks on his neck and forearms.

“How’d that happen?” he asked, pointing at the red streaks.

“Geez, what’s with the interrogation?”

“I want to know why Sofia went outside during a hurricane,” Marcus said, his tone defensive.

“And I told you, didn’t I?” Jax snapped.

Marcus tensed. “You did.”

Jax let out a breath and slumped his shoulders. “Sorry, dude. It’s been a long 24 hours.”

The older man searched Jax’s face for a moment, then nodded. “It has.”

“If I tell you more about my life, will you stop asking questions?”

Discomfort snaked through Marcus’s gut, but he said, “Sure.”

“I got here a few months ago. Before that, I stayed near Nashville. I looked for work, but no luck. So, I hitched down here.”

“What do you do?”

“Uh, this and that, you know. I dropped outta high school way back when. Daddy left when I was little…the usual story. So, I’ve just been doin’ odd jobs my whole life.”

“Like…?” Marcus pushed.

“I think sharing time’s over, my guy.”

Fatigue crowded the exhausted father’s mind, and he didn’t reply.

“It’s hot,” Sofia whined wiping another few beads of sweat from her forehead.

“Thanks for telling me that – I had no idea,” Jeanie joked.

“I wasn’t trying to tell you anything. Can’t I grumble a little?”

“Won’t do you any good.”

“Whatever,” Sofia huffed. “Did you order those women to stop complaining, too?”

“Sister, it took a lot of patience to get those ladies to share their troubles. Most kept their struggles secret for a long, long time.”

“Why? If anyone earned the right to complain, they did.”

“Speaking up about actual problems takes courage. Fussing about petty inconveniences is easy by comparison,” Jeanie murmured.

Sofia sulked for a few moments, then said, “It makes me feel better.”

“Does it?”

Eyebrows furrowed, Sofia walked on in silence.

As he stood in the center of a debris-filled intersection, Marcus mulled over his options. He peered down one street, then another, trying to discern his daughter’s chosen direction.

“Did she say where she was going?” Marcus asked.

Jax shook his head. “Nope.”

Movement in his periphery caught Marcus’s eye, and he swiveled to investigate. Two women had turned a corner and were walking his way – an older lady with frizzy hair, and a petite figure next to her.

“SOFIA!”

Jeanie and Sofia both jumped at the sound of her name. The teenage girl frantically scanned her surroundings and saw a pair of men jogging closer. As they approached, a sob ripped through her chest.

“Dad!” she broke into a run, joyful tears painted her cheeks. A few seconds later, she caught sight of the man at her father’s side, and she froze so quickly that she almost fell.

Marcus watched his daughter’s face morph into a mask of absolute terror, and he slowed his pace.

“What–” he started, but Jax darted ahead of him, reached a hand under his shirt’s back, and retrieved a small pistol.

Shock roared through Marcus’s limbs, threatening to topple him, but before he could, Jax came to a halt and raised the gun, leveling it at Sofia’s brow.

Marcus stumbled, but kept his feet edged between the metal barrel and his little girl.

“Stop moving, asshole,” Jax growled.

The frizzy-haired woman approached Sofia from behind slowly.

“Who is she?” Jax spat.

“J-Jeanie,” stammered Sofia, visibly shaking.

“DAMMIT!” he roared.

“Put that gun down, son,” Jeanie asked with careful calm.

“I can’t let her live. You two, either.”

“For what possible reason?” Marcus demanded.

“He tried to rape me, Daddy.”

Marcus’s eyes widened in disbelief, and then violent rage hit him in an intense wave of hot fury.

“Rape?” Jax scoffed. “You teasing bitch.”

His control snapped. Marcus lunged toward his daughter’s attacker and tackled him to the ground. A gunshot erupted as Jax went down, and Marcus slammed the kid’s arm onto the asphalt, sending the gun skittering across the road.

Sofia jumped at the shot’s retort, but Jeanie slumped in front of her. She let her gaze follow the descent and then noticed a bright red bloom growing from her chest.

“NO!”

She dropped next to the older woman and planted her hands against the wound.

Jeanie groaned and placed her palms on top.

“No, no, no, no! What should I do?”

“Dunno,” Jeanie grimaced. “Your dad’s an EMT, right?”

Sofia’s head shot up, and she spotted the men several yards away, wrestling on the damp road. “Yeah, but he’s…” she trailed off, hopelessness creeping through her middle.

“Don’t worry about me,” Jeanie smiled. “You need to run. In case your daddy doesn’t beat him.”

Tears ran down Sofia’s cheeks. “No way. I am not going anywhere.”

“You have to, sweet pea. I can’t kick this guy’s ass for you anymore, so you have to go.”

Sofia’s shoulders heaved with sobs. “I’m sorry,” she said. “You should never have helped me.”

Jeanie tsked. “You quit it with that. It was my pleasure to get to know you, young lady. So glad I did. I…” The words faded as her eyes grew vacant and her grip on Sofia’s hands loosened.

The teenager stared at her kind rescuer in shock. She was dead.

Marcus yelped as his skull hit the pavement. Shit, this kid is strong. Jax straddled him and landed two powerful punches to the jaw as he struggled to unseat him. He jabbed at the kid’s stomach, but couldn’t land any forceful blows.

Jax encircled his neck with both hands and squeezed. Marcus tried to wrench his arms away — punched and scratched at anything he could reach. But his attacker was too strong. Marcus gasped and choked as his air supply dwindled. The edges of his vision darkened. Sofia. Even the thought of his daughter’s name and potential fate couldn’t pull him back from impending death.

Sofia wept as she knelt next to her friend’s body and watched the man of her nightmares fight her father. But the sight of him strangling Marcus sent lightning through her, and she leaped to her feet.

Looking down at Jeanie, she recalled her words from the previous night.

“Who saved them, then?”

“Nobody, hun. Those women had to save themselves.”

Sofia searched the area nearby and spotted a metal fragment about the length of a baseball bat. Without thinking, she ran to it, swooped it up, and sprinted to the spot where her father lay dying.

She stopped behind Jax and lifted the bar over her head. A scream tore out of her as she brought the makeshift baton down onto Jax’s back with all her strength.

The young man shrieked in pain and fell sideways. Sofia swung her weapon again and again, releasing her fury, grief, and pain into the person who had tried to destroy her.

Bruised and bloody, Jax sneered up at her. “You think you can kill me or something?” He spat at her. “I will find you, and I’ll have you–” a second gunshot sounded, and the words died on his tongue as a bullet cracked through his skull.

Sofia looked up and saw her dad holding the pistol, expression grim, breathing heavily. They locked eyes, then Marcus dropped the gun and they collapsed into a tight embrace.

Three hours later, Marcus stood beside a hospital bed and studied his wife. Sofia slept, curled up in a worn vinyl visitor’s chair across the room. The television played the news at a low volume.

“The devastation brought by these two hurricanes was historic, and local and federal officials say the recovery process will take years and cost billions,” a somber, square-jawed reporter said to his viewers.

Aerial footage showed miles of beach, residential areas, and business centers flooded. Families perched on rooftops, with SOS messages painted or crafted with debris and clothing. Vehicles and dumpsters piled up against light poles, where the rushing water had carried them.

Marcus had seen Matty and Isabella on the pediatric floor before coming to visit Esme. Matty had a severe concussion and bleeding around his brain. Surgeons had drilled a small hole through his skull to ease the pressure, and his son was now stable and resting in the ICU.

Bella had miraculously escaped almost any injury, although she had several cracked ribs and sported a couple dozen angry bruises. After their long ordeal, she slept peacefully in a medical-grade crib, with her nurse keeping a close eye out for her.

Esme stirred and blinked twice before she noticed Marcus.

“Hey,” he murmured.

“Are the kids okay?”

“Take a look,” he smiled, nodding toward their teenager.

The exhausted mother caught sight of her daughter and sighed in relief. “Gracias a Dios. The littles?”

Marcus gave her a quick rundown of Matty and Bella’s conditions, and Esme visibly relaxed.

“And me?” Esme asked, voice tight.

Before he answered, Marcus gripped her hand in his, and fought the prickling tears that threatened to spill.

“They couldn’t save your right leg. You have an above-the-knee amputation. They put pins and plates on the left side, but they’re not positive you’ll keep that one. We have to wait and see.”

Esme stared at the yellowed drop ceiling and nodded. “I knew it. Long before we fled the condos.” Salty moisture carved a path from her eyes to her ears.

Unasked and unanswered questions filled the air as the husband and wife gripped their hands even tighter. “I’m not going anywhere,” Marcus said. “I can’t see the future, but I want to keep trying. We’re a family. We belong together.”

Esme met his gaze and regarded him for a long moment. Then she nodded. “Together.”

Editor: Lucy Cafiero