It only took about eight minutes for the 28 of us to surround the area we knew the kids to be in. Once we were all in place, we began slowly closing in, surveying everything around us. As our perimeter grew tighter, we realized we were approaching a group of makeshift huts put together with old, rotten boards and logs. The crude dwellings screamed rogue inhabitance. The vomit-inducing stench grew heavier as we moved, mingling with the scent of the children.
As our circle reduced to about half, I paused everyone’s advance. “Junior…” I tried linking. I waited a moment but almost howled in relief when I got a response.
“Dad! We need help!”
“I know, buddy. I am not far, okay? Uncle D is here too,” I told him. “But don’t talk.”
“Dad, Leo’s arm might be broken. I tried to protect him; I sw
