After The Fires Went Out: Coyote (Book One of the Post-Apocalyptic Adventure Series) (43 page)

“Someday you may get your chance.”

“I do hope so.”

“But for today, just shut up and listen. We’re cleaning up the district... well, a part of it, at least. The Mushkegowuk Nation is sick and tired of having a shit sandwich on its border. And you’ve made it pretty clear that you’re part of the problem.”

“Fuck you, Stems.”

“I’m doing this to protect your people, Baptiste. To protect them from those assholes in the Toyota technicals
and
to protect them from your bad decisions.”

“The only bad decision I made was not shooting you in the head back when we first met.”

“I’m not happy about this either. I want you gone.”

“Then get me gone.”

“Don’t tempt me, Baptiste. My orders are to leave you be as long as you stay on this side of the river. If I have to drag your corpse over the bridge just to cover my ass... well, I’ll do it with a smile on my face.”

Stems was playing it wrong, trying to scare me but really just pushing Lisa to the edge. I didn’t have to look over to her to know that she was pretty close to losing it... I knew that if she took a shot I’d have to take mine, too. If I was lucky she’d take out the man by the truck, and I’d have a few milliseconds to guess where the third man was positioned. I focused my vision on my far left, trying not to move my pupils.

I couldn’t tell if anyone was up in the loft. There was no way to be sure.

I knew that the best thing for us was to do nothing.

“We’re willing to stay on our side,” I said. “As long as you keep to yours.”

“Not a problem,” Stems replied. “Sounds like you understand the situation.”

“I understand.”

“Make sure you share the rules with that piece of shit Justin Porter. You know I’d be happy to deal with him.”

“I’ll tell him.”

“Good. Just remember... I’m doing this for all of us.”

He backed up to the truck and climbed into the front seat. The second man climbed in, and Stems put the truck into reverse. As they pulled away from the cottage I finally caught a glimpse of the third man, running out from his hiding place behind the corner of the porch. He hopped in the box with an assault rifle on his shoulder.

Stems had brought a bigger gun than I’d expected.

I kept the shotgun on them until I could no longer see the truck. And then I waited another couple of beats, just in case.

Lisa and I made our way onto the screened-in porch. Lisa gave Kayla a hug while I wrapped my arms around Fiona.

“I thought that was it,” Kayla said. “My god... I really thought they were coming to kill us.”

“You guys did good,” Lisa said. “I’m so proud of you two.”

“Yes... really good,” I said.

“Why weren’t you here?” Fiona asked me.

“I was out splitting wood.”

“But you should have been here.”

“I know... I should have been here.”

I hadn’t been thinking straight.

I should have stayed behind. Or Lisa. One of us. Always.

That was how it was supposed to work.

I was too tired. I’d fucked up.

“And all this talk about keeping us safe,” Fiona said. “Seriously...”

“Take it easy, Fiona,” Lisa said. “Everyone’s okay.”

Fiona started to sob.

I didn’t know what to do. I let my arms drop from around her.

She ran from the porch and up the stairs.

We all glanced at one another for a moment. Lisa still had that berserker look in her eyes, Kayla was still shaking with fear... none of us seemed particularly well-equipped to follow Fiona up to her room.

“I guess I’ll go,” Kayla said to me. “She’s too mad at you to bother with me.”

I nodded as she left.

“She’s right,” I said to Lisa. “I should have been here.”

“I know,” Lisa said. “You should have been. You won’t make the same mistake again.”

Graham and I went out in in the truck to check the damage to the gate on Nelson Road. The locks were busted open, but that wasn’t a surprise.

“How did this happen?” Graham asked. “The tripwire should have triggered the alarm.”

I knelt down and took a look. “Everything’s intact.”

“So we trip it?”

“We trip it.” So I did.

Graham grabbed the handheld and pushed for Lisa.

“Alarm’s sounding,” Lisa said. “Gate on Nelson Road.”

“So the hop’s working,” I said. “So what went wrong?”

“I don’t know,” Graham said. “I’m more of a hardware guy, and this might be a software problem.”

“Or jamming.”

“Maybe... I don’t know. You know who needs to check on this.”

“Shit.” I didn’t want to hear it. “Do me a favour. You ask him.”

“I can,” Graham said. “But it’d mean a heck of a lot more coming from you.”

“What are you, Sara now?”

“Just pointing out the obvious.”

“I know.”

I found Matt chopping wood, or playing with an axe, which is probably a more accurate description.

“I need you to check the hops,” I said. “Particularly the one on the Dougalls’ roof.”

“You want me to climb up on the roof? That sounds like a bad idea. That place is going to cave in.”

I had to sigh. “First off, it’s not going to cave in... otherwise we wouldn’t have put a hop and panel up there. Second... just shut up and start checking for viruses or whatever.”

“Viruses or whatever?”

“You know... breaches. I want to know if someone has compromised our network.”

“Someone like Stems.”

“Yes... like Stems. Can you just do this for me?”

“Yeah, alright. I’ll check it out.”

I didn’t want to say it. But I had to. “Thanks,” I muttered.

We decided to stop our wood splitting for the day; it felt like we'd be tempting fate if we divided into two groups again so soon.

Everyone stayed close to home. While we all acted like we were getting things done, I know that every one of us was too busy wondering what we should do next.

“We should have some kind of meeting about it,” I said to Graham as I passed him by the chicken coop. He was collecting the eggs, which was not something I remember him ever doing before.

Carcassonne was following by his heels; I think that big dog was just as surprised as I was.

“Actually, I was meaning to talk to you,” Graham said. “I've been saying that we'd discuss this over dinner. Maybe come up with a few options and have some kind of vote.”

I wasn't so much surprised as annoyed by the way he seemed to be taking charge. “That's a strange thing for you to be taking the initiative on.”

“Someone needed to.”

“I'm sorry... was that a joke?”

“I'm not joking,” Graham said. “I think it's time we made some tough decisions.”

“Okay now,” I said, “you need to think this through for a minute, Graham. It's good that you're taking an interest --”

“An interest? You gotta be freaking kidding me. I'm getting a little sick of this patronizing attitude of yours.”

“Watch yourself.”

“You're not the boss, Baptiste, and you and Sara aren't the only grownups around here. It's time you start listening to the rest of us.”

“I listen,” I said. “But just because you have an opinion doesn't make it right. I know you want us to leave. I'm not an idiot.”

“It's not about me wanting anything... it's about what makes sense for us as a group. And staying here doesn't make sense anymore. It's just not safe.”

I shook my head and sighed; I was being a prick, but I felt it was the right approach to take at that moment. “I don't want to have the same stupid conversation with you over and over again. We are safer right here. If we leave, we won’t survive.”

“You don't know that.”

“You're right... I can't promise that you and Lisa and the rest of us will be shot up and skullfucked somewhere along the highway... or thrown into the big pit and left to die. It's not definite... it’s just highly likely.”

“More scare tactics from the master,” Graham said. He turned to walk away.

I grabbed his arm. “I need to show you something.”

He glared at me for a moment, like he was about to stay on the attack, but I think he could tell that I was about to let him in on something that mattered.

I took Graham down into the basement. I led him past the half-dozen shelves overflowing with aluminum cans and boxes of dry goods, past our three chest freezers, and over to a tower of six long and deep plastic boxes stacked up along the dampest of the damp concrete walls.

I pulled off the top three boxes, one by one. I could tell I was already pushing my heart too hard.

I moved on to the fourth box. I pulled out one of the white and gray binders I’d saved from the committee. I let the binder fall open to the middle, and I flipped over until I found the right page. I began to read.

“Beginning in the month of February approximately five hundred and twenty people left Cochrane for neighbouring areas, including Timmins and Aiguebelle. A public plea was made for all evacuees to make contact with us in any way open to them to assure us that they were safe and that the road was clear. As of March 31st we have not received a single message confirming that any Cochrane residents have arrived at a secure destination.”

“That could mean anything,” Graham said. “Phones and networks were down more often than they were up. And I doubt most people know much about making calls on the radio anymore.”

“I was sent down toward Timmins to see if I could find any trace of our people. I found some of them.”

“And they didn't make it.”

“They didn't make it. They were slaughtered, sometimes by marauders, sometimes by The Souls. Bodies lying on the paved shoulders like roadkill. Who knows how many more ended up in the big pit. Sometimes the marauders would burn the bodies to keep down the stench, but other times the corpses rotted where they were left; they didn't bother to hide the mess, and they certainly didn't bother to dig any graves. It's here in hard copy, Graham. The committee took each one of my photos and printed them out. Take a look.”

I handed him the binder and watched as he flipped through several pages of photographs. I hadn’t shown these to anyone before, and I doubt I’d share them with anyone else in that cottage. To me and Graham, these were just unfortunate people who got caught up in something terrible. To everyone else these could be neighbours, or friends... in Sara’s case, they could be her sisters. No one else needed to see them.

“This was over a year ago,” Graham said. “I'll bet the majority of those marauders have moved on. And I’ll bet The Souls have better things to do these days. Those highways are empty now... there aren't enough people traveling on them to justify lying in wait. I really don't see how this changes the situation.”

“That's why you're dangerous, Graham. You've made up your mind.”

“What about you? You seem pretty stuck on digging in no matter what it costs us.”

“I think I'm starting to understand. This isn't about how many guns we have, or whether or not it's safe out on the highways. This is about how you're so scared of having to fight that you'd rather pin all of your hopes on running away.”

“That's not it.”

“That's
so
it, man. I thought you were naïve. Turns out you're just chickenshit.”