After The Fires Went Out: Coyote (Book One of the Post-Apocalyptic Adventure Series) (39 page)

Today is Tuesday, December 25th.

Sara ended up having the bed to herself last night; I woke up Christmas morning on the living room floor. Fiona greeted me with a Merry Christmas, a warm hug, and a cup of black coffee.

My head throbbed a little, but I’ve had worse ways to start the day.

We decided as a group last winter not to exchange gifts; it’s not really fair when Graham and I can find all sorts of useless crap in Cochrane while most everyone else is left to fashion gifts from twigs and frozen dirt.

But Fiona broke the rule last year, giving each of us another homemade card, so I wasn’t surprised when she cornered me again this morning after breakfast.

“Sorry,” she said as she handed me a large envelope.

“We’re getting a divorce?” I asked.

I opened the envelope and pulled out a piece of sketch paper.

“I didn’t frame it yet,” she said. “I wasn’t sure if you’d like it.”

It was a charcoal drawing; I recognized the scene from pretty much the only printed photo I have. Me, Alanna and Cassy, standing together at Niagara Falls. Fiona had taken my little wallet-size and turned it into something beautiful... there was more of my wife and daughter in the faces she’d drawn than in that old wrinkled photo.

“It’s perfect,” I said as I pulled her close to me. “Thank you so much, Fiona. It’s just... perfect.”

“I’ve sprayed it, but I just need to find the right frame.”

“Don’t worry... I can find something the next time I’m in town.” I kissed her on the cheek. “It’s wonderful.”

“I didn’t get anything for anyone else this year.”

“Ah... okay.” I wasn’t sure how to feel.

“Sara’s birthday is coming up in February... I’ll make something for her then. I’ve just been busy lately, you know?”

“I know, Fiona. You do a lot around here.”

“No, you do a lot, Baptiste. I don’t remember me rescuing two stranded girls on the side of the road.”

“Two stranded girls?”

“Now you’ve blocked it from your memory? It’s a damned good thing you found those two before someone else did.”

I’d forgotten the story I’d told. To Fiona and Kayla those girls were lucky; in that version they’d been cold and scared... and that was all they’d felt.

I didn’t regret the lie.

“I guess so,” I said. “I got to say, Fiona... your work has really gone far. You’ve got a real talent.”

She blushed a little. “I always wanted to be an artist. Well, that and a supermodel.”

I chuckled.

She smiled at me. “I figured by the time I was sixteen I’d have run off to join one of those eco-collectives, do the whole off-the-grid artist thing.”

“Off-the-grid artist and supermodel, you mean.”

She laughed. “Yeah. They had a few places like that right around here. I wonder if some of them are still around.”

“Maybe it’s not too late for you to live the dream. But make sure you warn me before you go.” I gave her cheek another peck. “And thank you, again... really.”

“You’re welcome.”

It was nice to feel special.

“I want to show you something,” Fiona said after lunch.

“I know how to find the sink,” I said, “I just choose not to wash dishes.”

“Funny. But seriously... come on a walk with me.”

“Outside? In the snow?”

She smiled. “Yeah... in the snow... you big baby.”

We put on our jackets and boots, and I followed her out the front door.

Des and Juju came along, too. They always will, unless you make it a point to block them on your way out.

“I wasn’t sure I should show this to you,” she said as she led me toward the path that runs around the lake.

“Oooh... a dead body...”

“That’s not funny.”

“Sorry.”

As we walked around the bend, I kept an eye out for any new tracks in the snow. I might as well dampen the day by finding out that the coyotes were back after us.

“This is it,” Fiona said, stretching her arms out in front of her.

“It is...?”

“This.” She tapped her hand against a maple tree.

“A sugar maple. Didn’t know there was one so close to home.”

“Look closer,” she said.

I stuck my face an inch from the bark, sticking my tongue out at the same time.

“See the initials?” she asked.

I did. They were carved deep into the bark.

“RB + FR,” I said. “Who’s that?”

“You don’t know?”

“No. Well, I assume you’re ‘FR’.”

She rolled her eyes. “I’m not
the
‘FR’... just like you’re not the original ‘RB’.”

“My last name’s Jeanbaptiste,” I said. “Remember?”

“Close enough,” she said.

“Okay...”

“It’s supposed to be funny, stupid.”

“It is?”

“
Ugh.
Someone carved these years ago, and it’s funny because you’re like old enough to be my grandpa.”

“Harsh.”

“Well... it’s biologically possible, isn’t it?”

“There’s a lot that’s biologically possible.”

“So now you’re hitting on me?”

“That’s not funny.”

She laughed. “Yes it is.”

I laughed, too. “There’s no one else who’s as big of a goofball as you.”

“And there’s no one else old enough to use a word like ‘goofball’.”

“Well? What word would you use to describe yourself?”

“Smart... beautiful... sexy...”

“Uhh...”

“I’m getting cold,” she said. “Walk me home, Robert Baptiste.”

“
Jean
baptiste.”

“Who cares?”

“I don’t.”

She leaned in and gave me a kiss on the cheek. “You’re blushing.”

“No... I’m freezing to death.”

She laughed.

I wasn’t sure what to feel.

Justin Porter stopped by just before dinner. Since it was just him, I knew that he wasn’t going to be bringing any cheer.

Sara came with me to greet him. Graham was fidgeting with the stove, but he stopped and looked up.

“I knew it,” Justin said as he stepped inside, bringing the snow with him.

“That you’re a douchebag?” I asked.

“Dave Walker just stabbed us in the back. Listen to this...” He held up his phone before he started to read. “‘We’re not interested in continuing arrangement at SQL. We’ve taken on a new partner.’”

“They’re backing out of Silver Queen Lake?”

“He’s telling us to back out.”

“Fuck that. We’re not giving it up.”

“Don’t tell me... tell him.”

“Well... call him.”

“I have. He’s not answering.”

“Then leave a message.”

“I have. I don’t think it’s his phone not getting a signal. I think he’s avoiding us. I guess he’s a little miffed that you got his son killed.”

I wanted to punch him in the mouth. “Is that a joke?”

“There’s no joke here, Baptiste. Just a series of fuck-ups. Believe me... no one’s laughing.”

“Go home, Justin.”

“Why? You going to get me killed, too?”

“I just might. You think I don’t know what you’ve been doing?”

“You’re a mess, Baptiste.”

“Get out.”

He gave me a smirk before walking out the door.

“What are you wanting to do?” Sara asked me as she wrapped an arm around my hip.

“Besides shoot him in the head?”

She nodded.

“I want to go to Silver Queen Lake tomorrow to get our supplies.”

“It’s not safe,” Graham said. “It’s not worth it.”

“He’s right,” Sara said. “We’ve had way too many close calls.”

“So we just give up?” I asked. “We let Dave Walker shit all over us and take everything while he’s at it?”

“Yes,” Sara said. “We do. We back off and we stay alive. We have other things to worry about.”

“I’m not scared of Dave Walker. You know that.”

“You have too many enemies,” Graham said. “I... I told you this would happen.”

“You told me?”

“Look... we need to take a breath. Things are getting out of control.”

“Out of control? You mean, more out of control than the end of the fucking world?”

“We can’t risk it,” Sara said. “And what about the Girards? I made a promise to check on them. Aren’t you going to back me up?”

“I like this new tactic,” I said. “Everyone just piles on to old Baptiste.”

“Is that what you think this is?” Sara asked. “Some kind of personal attack?”

“That’s what it sounds like. Baptiste is an asshole... everyone hates his guts...”

“Dammit, Baptiste... this isn’t about you. Can you just listen for once? The remaining supplies at Silver Queen Lake aren’t worth any of us dying. We have enough to make it...”

“We don’t have enough, Sara. We don’t have nearly enough. We’re short of flour... we’re short of fuel... how the hell are we supposed to plant crops in the spring when we don’t have any of the equipment or even the goddamn seed?”

“There is no farm equipment at Silver Queen Lake,” Sara said. “No fuel, either... just a little bit of food and apparently a whole lot of stolen jewelry. Whatever’s up there isn’t going to save us. We need to look elsewhere. We
will
look elsewhere. Don’t give up on us, Baptiste.”

“Then you don’t give up on me,” I said.

“I haven’t.”

“No one has,” Graham said. “We’re just scared.”

“So I ustin’s scared, too?”

“Yes,” Sara said. “If Justin honestly thought he could do a better job than you he’d go ahead and do it.”

“So what do you expect me to do?” I asked. “Just let Dave Walker win?”

“If everything we do is based more on winning some undeclared war... my god, Baptiste... then we’re screwed.”

“I can’t let him win.”

“He’s not going to win. It’s a long time before this is over.”

I nodded.

And I gave her a kiss.

“What,” Graham said, “nothing for me?”

“Kiss the stove,” I said. “I heard it’s hot for you.”

Sara groaned.

That was nice to hear.