“Most houses have children or people under eighteen,” the wife said, guiding her kids much like Capricorn guided her errant husband. “The red house. Abby looks after some of the children when the parents go to war or go into the city.”

“Do they have weapons?” Capricorn asked.

“Of course. We hunt deer and rabbit when we can.”

“The leadership’s house is totally gone,” the other woman observed. “They hit it first.”

I looked in the direction she was facing. At the corner of the camp, near the point where the road disappeared into the forest, one of the larger houses had been leveled.

On the alert for any drawn weapons, I caught the man putting his hand on his wife’s arm. She looked down.

I hated that. I hadn’t seen it often, over the years, but it got under my skin when I did. From the time I was young, my mom had drawn attention to those things after the fact, when we did some crisis point stuff, responding to domestic violence calls, or when she introduced me to a police detective and his wife she knew. She’d remark on the dynamics between husband and wife, the power plays, and the signs that something else was going on. The intent was to make me aware, and to ensure I’d avoid those same things when I got into a relationship.

“If we send these guys out to the people at the edge of the forest, will you stick with us?” I asked the wife. “I don’t want to repeat this thing with having to fight you guys to help you.”

She looked at the other woman. “You’ll look after my kids?”

“Of course.”

“She’s my sister,” the wife said. “If she’s got my kids, then I’m okay giving you directions.”

“Go,” Capricorn said. He gave the one guy a shove. “Straight line that way. They’re not going to arrest you unless you cause trouble.”

“Don’t be an asshole, Tony,” the wife said. “If you did break your wrists, you’re going to need someone to wipe your tush. I’ve told you before, I’ll only make your life easy if you return the favor.”

“Fuck off,” Tony said, with an exhausted sort of emphasis on ‘off’. “We’re going. I’m getting away from Nan.”

“Yeah,” the other guy said.

The family made their way. They ducked low by the walls, and Tony had to squat and waddle in way I found a little amusing, his knees apart and hands down.

“Nan?” I asked the wife.

“Yeah. Short for Nancy.”

“Alright,” I said. “You’re good, here? I don’t need to worry about you?”

“Family first, friends second, Fallen and faith third,” she said. “If this is what we’re having to deal with here, I don’t want it. I’ll help you get some others I know out.”