xp_logs | Dixie Dead Shake

Amanda escapes to the one place she feels safe and encounters a surprise.

It had started to rain weakly again as Amanda turned off the highway, now pulling on to the poorly lit and kept county roads that crisscrossed the bayou north of the city. She'd lost her phone during her flight from the city, but fortunately, this was one of the places that the directions were indelibly burned into her brain. She was capable of returning there like a salmon, drawn back to the exact stream where she was born. Which, in a strange way, she had been - New Orleans had been the place she'd basically reinvented herself after leaving the mansion, shedding the drama and trauma of her past to live a life without magic.

The road ahead blurred, even with the wipers working overtime on the 'borrowed' car and Amanda realised she was tearing up as the shock and adrenaline started wearing off. Safe from immediate pursuit, her worries for Marie-Ange's safety resurfaced, almost overwhelming her. And what about the others? Without her phone she couldn't get in touch and all she could do was hope that she and Angie had been the only targets. She swiped her sleeve roughly over her eyes, focusing on the rough dirt road ahead. It was overgrown with weeds and the sides of the car were being sideswiped by overhanging bushes while Spanish moss dragged across the top of the windscreen and along the roof. No-one had used this road for a while, which was heartening for a fugitive. She just hoped the shack was still in one piece.

About fifty yards from her destination she had to stop - the rains had washed out the track and she didn't want to risk getting stuck in the swamp. Amanda pulled the car off the side of the track where it would be hidden from above by the overhanging button bushes and climbed out, looking at her boots with a sigh. Swamp mud was going to be a bitch to clean out of the crevices. She turned up the collar of her shirt against the rain that was already soaking her hair and set off into the muddy water, picking her way until she reached the clearing where Tante's shack sat.

After almost eight years of silence, Tante Mattie sat on her front steps. She was wrapped up against the rain, her brown face and eyes serene as she looked out over her domain, registering Amanda without a hint of surprise.

Amanda paused at the edge of the clearing, rain soaking her hair and clothes. She'd been expecting an empty shack, worn by abandonment and weather.

"Tante?" It was a small croak, squeezed out through a throat suddenly tightening with emotion.

"Jah need a reminder?" She said, without heat. "Welcome back, Amanda."

Despite herself, Amanda snorted a brief laugh before she crossed the space between them. She stopped just short of giving the old woman a hug; she desperately wanted to fall into Tante's arms and sob out the stress of everything that had happened, but she wasn't sixteen any more. And she had a feeling that reaching here wasn't the ending she'd thought it would be. "It's fucking good to see you," she said instead, pushing a handful of wet blonde hair out of the face. "Things have gone to shit."

"Long before now. Jah seen what da city is now, neh? What has happened?" She said, her sphinx-like look never cracking.

Amanda's boots squished as she mounted the few steps and then sat next to Tante. Dropped, really, the fatigue of everything hitting her hard. "Angie and I, we got ambushed. Magical types, strong enough I couldn't counter them. I had to leave Angie." Her throat tightened again at the memory. "But even before that, nothing was the same. None of the drop points, none of the contacts... it was like we were strangers. Or if people were afraid to talk to us."

"We lost. Candra came back but in a face dat we weren't ready for. We expected a child and dis was a woman. Before we knew what happened, half of our people were corrupted by her and de other half had to flee. Even Tante had to go deep in de swamp." She said simply.

Candra. Amanda reflexively shuddered at the name and the memories it evoked, the skin of her back tightening under the scars for a moment. "I... I don't know what to do," she admitted. "I could call in the rest of the team, if I could get to a phone..."

"Non. Dey coming to you, soon enough." The woman stared out straight into the soft rain. "Dey are coming and we need to be ready for dem."

"What do you need me to do?" Amanda had learned the hard way to not ask how Tante knew the things she knew.

Her dark eyes flickered to Amanda and then back out to the grounds. Out front of the shack, against a bench, sat three shovels.

"Dig."

"Dig?" It slipped out before she could reign it in. "What am I--" since Tante wouldn't be digging, that was for sure. "--what am I digging? And why three shovels?"

"Six foot by three foot. And six feet down." Tante said, ignoring her question. "Dat earth is wet and heavy. If jah gon be done on time, jah best start now."

The Brit bit her lip and got up from the step. Her wet clothes were sticking to her unpleasantly, trapping the sweat of her earlier flight. She took the shovel in hand and began walking to the point Tante had indicated. She'd gotten as far as sticking the sharp blade of the shovel into the wet dirt before her brain caught up with her mentor's words.

Six foot by three foot. And six feet down.

A grave. She was digging a grave.