Chapter 7: Congregation

Homen Roads

The destination was set: the center of Homen. A presumed housing development according to the vague memories of Nisha and his friends.

And they seemed to be true. Unlike the precarious town they'd set out from, they were increasingly surrounded by paved streets and middle-class homes.

However, one similarity remained: abandonment; not a single person they could ask for directions appeared on the long roads.

They had wandered through the neighborhoods for so long that the sky was becoming increasingly clear. Dawn was breaking.

"Hm… (I don't like the sound of the engine)," Garwin mused, slowing down the minibus. "We'll stop and call for help. It's early morning… They must be sleeping… I highly doubt all these houses are uninhabited either…"

"Uh… uh! What?"

At this point, no one paid the slightest attention to what he said. Everyone was doing their best not to succumb to sleep.

“Hm…”

Sein, swaying from exhaustion, looked through one of the holes in the window beside him. He was startled awake by the sight of a figure hovering in the distance, slinking past as it crossed behind homes.

“Uh? Something…! I see something, Garwin! Over there! It's a boy!”

Until now, the boy hadn't noticed the minibus. He continued to stealthily navigate the streets with a bag on his back.

“Should we get his attention? What do you say, Izzy?”

“Let's just… Let's just follow him. His actions must mean he's trying to avoid just that. If we lose him, so will our only guide here.”

Following her command, Garwin shifted the vehicle's gears and they moved toward him. Stealthily, they followed, keeping a certain distance. After seeing him hurry in and out of a couple more houses, the unknown boy changed direction, heading toward the town's main street.

However, suddenly, he turned onto a different route and disappeared.

"Damn, we'll lose him."

Stepping on the gas, they drove to the same turnoff.

The small boy wasn't there.

But instead, they came across something big.

Measuring almost four meters high, composed of pieces of tin, wood, and conglomerations of rocks, it was a large barricade that blocked the entire street.

It seemed to be incomplete or in need of repair, as two grown men were lying on top of it, working with hammers in hand and nails in their mouths.

One of them stopped when he noticed the presence of the new visitors.

"HEY! Y-YOU! WHO ARE YOU?!" the stranger said, pointing his hammer at them. Several men were leaning out with menacing looks from beside him.

On the minibus, hearing and seeing them was beginning to start a tense atmosphere, but Garwin remained as calm as he could, answering the question from the window.

"Excuse the time, friends! My name is Garwin Stanford! My friends and I have... an address to a certain place in Homen! We were just passing by wondering if this is the right one! If you could help us...!"

"GET OUT OF THE CAR! NOW!"

"...!"

Shifting his doubtful gaze to Izzy, they both nodded.

"S-Should we really get out?" Xiomara questioned nervously, placing a hand on her friend's shoulder. Izzy took it and looked calmly at everyone.

"Stay calm and stay behind. Garwin, don't turn off the engine. In case something happens, we won't get too far from the minibus." Not even Izzy could truly claim to be unfazed at that moment, after seeing about ten men and teenagers emerge from a door in front of them, carrying metal rods, knives, and tools you'd normally find at a construction site. Although they looked threatening, they were obviously afraid.

However, by then they'd already gotten off the minibus.

“Ah... H-Hop on...! Raise your hands!”

“Wait a second...”

“Could it be him, or is my vision already failing?”

“Wait. Seeing him up close...”

“Hm... It's likely.”

“D-Don't lose sight of them.”

“Let's be sure first, shall we?”

Several of the men whispered among themselves until one stood out.

"Don't beat around the bush, he's his son. Clearly he is. Come on, relax."

"?"

Even seeing the residents reduce their hostility, the visitors couldn't relax their shoulders.

A man walked toward them and continued.

"Open the doors so the vehicle can pass as soon as possible, please. We don't want to be here for long, do we? While you... All of you look terrible. Did you just come from a wild party outside?"

The man joked without restraint, trying to ease the tension. It seemed like they knew them from somewhere.

In fact, the visitors needed to see themselves in a mirror. Their now-dirty clothes were ripped in places, and they had huge dark circles under their eyes that made them look like captive raccoons.

Izzy sighed and shook her head to wake up, so she could answer the absurd question later.

"Yeah, a party... Sure... Can we come in?"

The huge doors opened before them, followed by a creaking sliding gate of the same size; made way for the silver minibus and the new visitors.

After parking it and leaving it in the care of experts, the recent group looked around with tired eyes.

It was early. The sky was still a dawn blue, and the temperature hovered around 18°C. The sunlight was barely reflected off the dawn clouds in the distance and off the rooftops of the settlements.

They were on a paved road, lined with ordinary residences and culminating in a long, circular, dead-end street with a small recreational park on one side. This street was where most of the pedestrians could be seen.

If there was a simple way to call this new place, it would be the Homen Central, and that's what all its inhabitants did.

"You're the experts on the subject. Is there a fix?"

"Why have you forced it like this? We could try swapping parts here and there, but I highly doubt it. Once our colleagues return with the cars, we'll see what can be done.”

Pushing aside the smoke coming from the minibus, Garwin was chatting with a couple of mechanics in front of it. The man who had let them in had asked them to wait a moment, so they were basically passing the time.

The situation had quickly calmed down. They didn't know why they were receiving visitors in such a hostile manner, but it clearly wasn't with bad intentions. Something was going on that kept them on their toes. Still, for some reason they had been accepted.

"Hm... If there's no other way, feel free to use it however you want. I'll explain to our chief later."

"Garwin, leave that," Doger intervened, still sleepy. "There's something we need to know first."

His friend was right. They traveled from the village of Los Canes to the town of Homen for a reason and an answer, but they wouldn't wait too long for them.

The man had returned, and he wasn't alone.

A slightly older man, dark-skinned and of average height, was accompanying him closely.

His hair seemed to have fallen down to his pronounced grayish beard, which he held with one hand while holding onto a cane with the other. Reducing his limp, he said, "Look who we have here."

"Hey, Coach!" Garwin exclaimed, waving his hand and smiling. "Of all places... How did you end up here? Weren't you going straight home like you said?"

"Were you planning on visiting me? Let's just say I took a small detour along the way. We'll get into details. More importantly..." he answered, clasping his hands as he looked at the rest of the group. "You're taking a while to introduce me. I'm sure I'm seeing some new faces."

"Right. For those who don't know him... or don't remember, this is my old man, Farleigh Stanford."

"Rude. I'm not an old man; just tired."

"Of life? Ha ha ha, sure. That kid over there is Gitta Vintana, and this is... Yong Haeri, or am I mistaken? We met not long ago."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Stanford," Gitta responded formally.

"Just call me Haeri..."

"The pleasure is mine. Garwin never fails to make friends no matter where he goes. It seems he's a natural talent."

"You need to stop saying that about me... Heh heh.”

Farleigh "Coach" Stanford. Originally from the United States, he lived there as a professional football player in his younger years. After retiring, he traveled to the Republic of Manecia with his only son in search of a quiet life where he could rest until his final days.

Through Garwin's connection, he soon found himself working as a physical education instructor at his school, St. Ramael High School, although it was only for a short time. Even so, he was well-known by everyone and deserved his current nickname.

"Mr. Farleigh... I mean, Coach..."

Once again, the hasty Doger intervened in the discussion.

"Oh, but it's Doger. How are you doing? Tell me, are you still practicing that? I must say you look thinner than the last time you were in my training,” he said. “Mm… Why is it bandaged? I’m talking about your hand.”

“We need to know something…”

“Don’t stress yourself out, kid; it’s too early for that. Let them check you out.” The man wouldn’t let him continue. “Garwin, how come he…”

“Please let them finish.” Until Izzy intervened. “That’s why we came.”

“Even Izzy? … What’s your urgency? Tell me.”

Doger didn’t wait any longer.

“Do you know if my… Um… Does anyone here have the last name ‘Quinto’?”

Farleigh placed his staff on the ground and tried to remember for a moment before answering the impatient boy.

“Please bring the record,” Farleigh requested of the man accompanying him. "Where was it…?"

"On that table by the entrance. It's a gray folder, if I'm correct."

Complying with the request, he searched for and handed over the papers.

On them were written nearly two hundred different names in alphabetical order, along with other information.

"Names, ages, genders, dates of birth, and so on… This register contains each and every person who accepted the congregation and currently remains within these barricades. No one enters or leaves without going through this list," he clarified as he handed it to Doger. "Here, boy. Look for whoever you want to find."

Seeing that the boy was busy for a while with the long list to go through, Izzy stepped forward to question a curious detail the Coach mentioned.

"Excuse me, what did you mean by 'congregation'? We need to know if we're in the right place."

"Hmm... I'll tell you the rundown. After the news announcement, these people decided that gathering in one place would be the safest and most convenient; just enough time until the government gets the situation under control. There is no government shelter nearby after all. However, at this rate..."

"S-So it's true?" Sein emphasized. "Is a world war happening right now? Really?"

"I'm afraid so, Sein."

"...!"

The announcement shook the group from their drowsiness. Stupefied, they looked at each other, especially at Izzy. In her case, she'd already seen it coming. By then, the number of signs confirming the fact made it more than obvious.

Taking the shocking news calmly, there was something else that worried Izzy about the interrupted conversation.

"About what you mentioned earlier, Coach, it doesn't sound to me like you're the one in charge of this place. And to go so far as to build a barricade..."

"Did I pretend? I didn't mean to," Farleigh said, modestly rubbing his back. "But it's just as you say, Izzy. I was taken by surprise too. Not to mention running into an old acquaintance on the way back from work... I'm just a curious visitor who happened to know him and is now filling in for him. I'm not entirely aware of the situation, if I'm entirely honest."

"Bhruic, Bhaltair! Who the hell is named Baiaiardo?..." Doger said while checking the records. "Tsk... (They're not here... Why am I not surprised?)"

Seeing him so engrossed in the record, his friend Nisha Quinto approached him.

"Doger...?"

"I'm going to find Mrs. Quinto for you, Nisha." His mood changed before returning his gaze to the list. "It'll be easy. Last names beginning with a 'Q' aren't that common... Or so I think."

"…"

"Let's see... Hm... Here it is! I found it, but..."

"W-What's wrong?"

"Absent? What does that mean?" Doger asked the Coach.

"The names in that section are those who have been allowed to leave the Central temporarily. No one should leave, but there are necessary exceptions. My colleague is there, as well as other men and women who have accompanied him."

"So... We just have to wait for them to return, right? Easy... Guh!" About to drop the folder, his bandaged hand was starting to bother him again.

"Kid, what happened to your hand?"

"Mr. Stanford, you're required..." a voice intervened in the discussion, that of a woman who approached Farleigh.

As they exchanged a few words among themselves, the rest of the group present was invited to sign in.

"I see. Have you moved up the meeting? It's getting earlier than usual..."

"Is something wrong?" Izzy asked as she handed back the register. "There are some questions I must ask you..."

"I know there's a lot to discuss, but it will be at a better time. I must attend," he announced, glancing at the man who had been following him from the start. "Please guide them to the dormitories, and have the boy's hand checked right now."

Seeing him leave with the woman, the group turned again to appreciate the immensity of the Homen Central. Only one person looked back; Izzy, her gaze fixed solely on the large barricade that separated them from the outside.

"('Necessary exceptions...', and this place built in a single day… Yes, there's a lot to discuss.)" she mused, returning to the group.

"Well, let me welcome you to The Central of Homen," the man guiding them, announced. "I'm warning you in advance that the sanitary drainage system isn't working, so you'll have to dig ditches to relieve yourself."

“Are you kidding?!”

“How awful!”

“Not again...”

The man had let out a quick joke but seeing their responses he became worried instead.

"…Seriously, where were you...? We just fixed it, don't panic..."